[Little by little, the tension melts away from Jamie's muscles beneath the insistent stroke of his fingertips, light and even and rhythmic. Pressure sensors register the unexpected smoothness between old scars and textures, the blood moving beneath in steady pumps. Calmer than he expected.
The junker's eyes crack open a little. Zenyatta keeps going, but as words rise to his vocaliser he discards them and, instead, begins to hum: a light, fluted folk song from the villages near the Shambali monastery. His voicebox doubles over, polyphonic as it replicates the floating tones of the bansuri and the delicate sārangī.
Even hearing it in his own voice makes him feel sleepy and peaceful. Vibrating gently with the sound, he edges all the closer and nestles into Jamie's longer frame.]
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Date: 2017-01-08 05:53 pm (UTC)The junker's eyes crack open a little. Zenyatta keeps going, but as words rise to his vocaliser he discards them and, instead, begins to hum: a light, fluted folk song from the villages near the Shambali monastery. His voicebox doubles over, polyphonic as it replicates the floating tones of the bansuri and the delicate sārangī.
Even hearing it in his own voice makes him feel sleepy and peaceful. Vibrating gently with the sound, he edges all the closer and nestles into Jamie's longer frame.]