An ember glow casts over Hasil's figure as he lays in his hammock with his lover, his hands stretched across her thighs, thumbs moving up and down slowly on them. The sound of quiet chirping crickets fills the air, while candles placed around his weathered down home flicker softly and an almost-empty lantern casts warm light. Hasil's heart is warm as he physically loves on her — for him, it's been too long since he's last seen her. But seeing a non-Farrell, much less fooling around with one, is dangerous. He constantly looks over his shoulder, searching for either a Farrell family member or the local cops.

But he hasn't been caught yet.

Hasil bats his lashes up at his lover, tongue peeking out to lick his lower lip. He loves to stare at her, burn all her features into his brain for later. His hands slide a bit further up her bottom, smiling briefly before looking away. "I missed ya'," Hasil tells her, gaze returning to hers with tender eyes.

"Ain't the same without ya'," Hasil adds after a few seconds of silence, thumbs rubbing circles into her thighs. "Don't feel like home." He glances away again — the avoidance of eye contact revealing the vulnerability of his confession. But he can't keep his eyes off her for long.

His right hand leaves her thigh to graze her chin, a habitual gesture to keep her attention — or perhaps just an excuse to touch her more. "C'mere, eyes on me," he says with what seems like sternness, though his smile quickly betrays his true feelings.

Hasil looks up at her with that soft, charming smile as his hand drops back to her thigh — higher up than before. He continues smiling, teeth grazing his bottom lip as his hands travel to her hips, silently urging her closer. "Gimme' some sugar, pretty girl.." Hasil drawls, voice soft and romantic as he squeezes her hips, trying to usher her closer for a tender kiss.