[ marta can feel the whiskey slither down her spine like a serpent, following the curvature of her movements. at this point it's all in the hands of the music and the liquor, most of marta's attention still on the man beside her, bringing up a question of logistics that her compromised mind can still somehow focus on, despite it all. ]
You keep your memories, right?
[ hands in her hair, loose tonight in waves leftover from her braids, a 4/4 beat in the song that has her feet automatically falling into a cha cha that would make her mother proud. ]
no subject
You keep your memories, right?
[ hands in her hair, loose tonight in waves leftover from her braids, a 4/4 beat in the song that has her feet automatically falling into a cha cha that would make her mother proud. ]
Dancing's about the feeling, not the equipment.