04-07-2019, 11:34 PM
Litotes cannot repress the inappropriately amused smile that stretches his lips upward when her presentation remains as cold as a stranger’s. The cruelty twisting devilishly within him rather likes this sword-like Kensa - wants to clash against her silvery edges. He thinks his smile will infuriate her, but he does not mind. Something about her icy gaze does the exact opposite of their desire: draws him closer.
She smells of plums and the cleanest air. Lie is almost certain that if he were to press his lips to hers they would taste of iron and sugar. He draws in a deep breathe, almost forgetting she has rebuttals to his confused replies, forgetting for just a moment that she fucking despises him. Then he remembers suddenly that she does hate him, at least in the wiring of his brain that will not connect, and that makes him love her so much fiercer.
At this point, he cannot tell where his love begins and his lust ends.
Ivar. The kelpie’s name jars Lie from his reverie. He meets Kensa’s gaze with a ferocity he has never felt before. Of course the kelpie - having once been a leader himself, he knew the names of those who ruled as he did. It takes everything within him to not curl a lip at her, to bare those canines that marred her flesh months ago. His rage wants to scream that she is so stupid for falling for the supernatural wiles of a kelpie, but he does not; instead, he presses his teeth into his tongue until it bleeds. Eventually the race of his heart relaxes.
Kensa spits at him like a cat, and Lie thinks she is so much more feline than he has ever been. I don’t owe you anything. That same grin creases his lips again, topaz eyes falling darker and darker as she presses her chest so close to his. The threat is clear in her eyes: hurt her again and she will be gone forever.
It is in that moment that Litotes realizes how little of each other they have let go. The way Kensa presses close, the way she does not banish him from her sight, the way she welcomed him back into their home - all actions mirroring the way he sought her out with no clear direction. They do not know what they want, not yet. A growl builds in the back of his throat. He will be damned if he does not find out.
“Kensa.” He says her name in so low a rumble that he is not sure it came out. A warning hides behind those two syllables, but he knows she will not heed it. She is shorter and more delicate, making it easy for Litotes to place his lips just barely against her ear: “You’re right,” he whispers, then hangs on a pause, “you don’t owe me anything.” The tip of her ear rests gently between his teeth, the flesh so soft as it drags through the pressure.
He has stepped into a minefield and he does not care.
At first it is just his lips against her neck, but he decides he does not like that, and grabs her skin in a bite much different from the last time they met. The growl from earlier has not subsided, now just a low burble like a tune to this dangerous dance. Lie does not care if she shirks him, if this is his last wrong move. Nothing makes sense anymore, but her skin against will never feel wrong.
She smells of plums and the cleanest air. Lie is almost certain that if he were to press his lips to hers they would taste of iron and sugar. He draws in a deep breathe, almost forgetting she has rebuttals to his confused replies, forgetting for just a moment that she fucking despises him. Then he remembers suddenly that she does hate him, at least in the wiring of his brain that will not connect, and that makes him love her so much fiercer.
At this point, he cannot tell where his love begins and his lust ends.
Ivar. The kelpie’s name jars Lie from his reverie. He meets Kensa’s gaze with a ferocity he has never felt before. Of course the kelpie - having once been a leader himself, he knew the names of those who ruled as he did. It takes everything within him to not curl a lip at her, to bare those canines that marred her flesh months ago. His rage wants to scream that she is so stupid for falling for the supernatural wiles of a kelpie, but he does not; instead, he presses his teeth into his tongue until it bleeds. Eventually the race of his heart relaxes.
Kensa spits at him like a cat, and Lie thinks she is so much more feline than he has ever been. I don’t owe you anything. That same grin creases his lips again, topaz eyes falling darker and darker as she presses her chest so close to his. The threat is clear in her eyes: hurt her again and she will be gone forever.
It is in that moment that Litotes realizes how little of each other they have let go. The way Kensa presses close, the way she does not banish him from her sight, the way she welcomed him back into their home - all actions mirroring the way he sought her out with no clear direction. They do not know what they want, not yet. A growl builds in the back of his throat. He will be damned if he does not find out.
“Kensa.” He says her name in so low a rumble that he is not sure it came out. A warning hides behind those two syllables, but he knows she will not heed it. She is shorter and more delicate, making it easy for Litotes to place his lips just barely against her ear: “You’re right,” he whispers, then hangs on a pause, “you don’t owe me anything.” The tip of her ear rests gently between his teeth, the flesh so soft as it drags through the pressure.
He has stepped into a minefield and he does not care.
At first it is just his lips against her neck, but he decides he does not like that, and grabs her skin in a bite much different from the last time they met. The growl from earlier has not subsided, now just a low burble like a tune to this dangerous dance. Lie does not care if she shirks him, if this is his last wrong move. Nothing makes sense anymore, but her skin against will never feel wrong.
