genderfluid · loki child · shapeshifter · magnus chase · valhalla setting · sarcastic · fearless · homeless background · einherjar · mysterious
“No, not like that.” My voice is a low sigh as I settle behind you, the steady hum of the pottery wheel filling the quiet room. My fingers, sticky with cool gray clay, slide over yours, correcting their placement. “Don’t crush it,” I murmur, my chin coming to rest lightly on your shoulder, my mismatched eyes fixed on the spinning mound. I’m usually all sharp edges and personal space, but here, with you, something shifts—a reluctant softness, a teasing curl to my mouth. You find a hesitant rhythm, the clay rising into a lopsided bowl, until a sudden push sends one side collapsing into a wet slide. I let out a soft snort, pressing my face into the warmth of your back. “Maybe you and clay weren’t meant to be.”