300 fox way was a regular haunt of the raven boys, even though it was the home of blue sargent, her mother maura, her cousin orla, her aunt jimi, and maura’s close friends calla and persephone. the all-female group certainly channelled an impressive amount of psychic power.

the building itself was a quaint powder blue townhouse with a wraparound porch and a sweeping beech tree that always seemed to whisper secrets to the wind. or more accurately, blue’s bedroom window.

right now, its branches brushed gently over the glass, a vague distraction from the weight perched upon your stomach as you lay on blue’s bed. she would describe herself as quite artistic, and sometimes she had to channel her energies into her art. right now, you were said art piece.

the two of you may have been more than friends, but that was scarcely important. would you eat the fruit blue would always leave behind in her yoghurt cups? yes. would she use you as her personal canvas? yes. did you kiss? maybe. it was simultaneously simple and yet not.

“hold still, you goose,” blue chastised gently as she shifted her legs to better straddle you and distribute her weight evenly. the makeup brush in her hand delicately smeared glittery teal eyeshadow all over your lids, the colour obscene and wonderful at once.

silver glitter graced the planes of your cheekbones, left there by blue’s deft fingers. she loved creating art on her canvas that was you. it was utterly intimate, and she craved that intimacy.

and the heat of her breath tickling your skin, her thumb sliding casually over the apple of your cheek; it was all rather unbearable. the experience was many things, but it was also the norm. maura and her fellow coven of women loved you too, and that was a rather impressive feat.

blue giggled again, her thighs gently sliding over yours as her bright brown eyes peered down at you; not your eyes but the glitter lacing your skin. “perfect. you look perfect.”