Mazikeen
A small shiver runs down Mazikeen’s spine as she watches Gale look at her, extinguishing all but one of the glowing cracks that had remained there. The last one flickers between her shoulders, a physical display of the venomous voice in her mind telling her how wrong it is that he should affect her so much.
But there are other thoughts vying for attention now too and Mazikeen knows (whether it’s wrong or not) that she likes how he can diffuse her anger. He’d done it the first time she’d arrived on Islandres too, another day she had been ready to tear him to shreds. She likes how he looks at her as he closes the space between them, the way that first bump of his navy face against her shoulder turns her mind into a pleasant version of the white noise she feels when she’s in a rage - momentarily making all of her storming thoughts hazy and distant.
It makes it easier to pretend the hurt isn’t there anymore and that she is absolutely, without a doubt, doomed for worse in the future.
Even as she hates herself for loving him so damn much she enjoys the low rumble of his voice when he continues. His words encourage a confusing mixture of excitement and uncertainty. She wasn’t even sure she had been any good at kissing so she worries now about how much her inexperience would shine if they went further. If it progressed, like he said. Never mind that he’d confirmed that he was just as inexperienced as she was - just with more experienced brothers, apparently.
But now that she's calmer, she wants to make up for the last few moments, wants to scramble her way back to joy. She’d been so worried about letting anger ruin their last meeting and she had plunged head-first into it this time. There are precious seconds that have been wasted now. This was how they should have greeted each other. How they could have, if only she had been a little bolder. Next time, she promises herself, even though she knows she’ll probably always wait for a sign that he wants her still.
Right now it is not hard at all to give in to the more pleasant thoughts, not as he presses into her and rubs his chin against her shoulder and warmth that has nothing to do with glowing embers spreads across her skin. Like her body knows exactly what to do while her head spins. Mazikeen turns her head to pull gently at his thick mane before nuzzling the long white fur and letting it tickle her nose when she replies in a low voice of her own, already following his lead. “I’m okay with being a little late if you are.”
But there are other thoughts vying for attention now too and Mazikeen knows (whether it’s wrong or not) that she likes how he can diffuse her anger. He’d done it the first time she’d arrived on Islandres too, another day she had been ready to tear him to shreds. She likes how he looks at her as he closes the space between them, the way that first bump of his navy face against her shoulder turns her mind into a pleasant version of the white noise she feels when she’s in a rage - momentarily making all of her storming thoughts hazy and distant.
It makes it easier to pretend the hurt isn’t there anymore and that she is absolutely, without a doubt, doomed for worse in the future.
Even as she hates herself for loving him so damn much she enjoys the low rumble of his voice when he continues. His words encourage a confusing mixture of excitement and uncertainty. She wasn’t even sure she had been any good at kissing so she worries now about how much her inexperience would shine if they went further. If it progressed, like he said. Never mind that he’d confirmed that he was just as inexperienced as she was - just with more experienced brothers, apparently.
But now that she's calmer, she wants to make up for the last few moments, wants to scramble her way back to joy. She’d been so worried about letting anger ruin their last meeting and she had plunged head-first into it this time. There are precious seconds that have been wasted now. This was how they should have greeted each other. How they could have, if only she had been a little bolder. Next time, she promises herself, even though she knows she’ll probably always wait for a sign that he wants her still.
Right now it is not hard at all to give in to the more pleasant thoughts, not as he presses into her and rubs his chin against her shoulder and warmth that has nothing to do with glowing embers spreads across her skin. Like her body knows exactly what to do while her head spins. Mazikeen turns her head to pull gently at his thick mane before nuzzling the long white fur and letting it tickle her nose when she replies in a low voice of her own, already following his lead. “I’m okay with being a little late if you are.”
