04-10-2019, 12:08 AM
Their inability to let go is clear in the way they collide.
Though not consciously aware that Kensa misses him, there is a certain rhythm to their movements that gives her away. The cremello’s body responds in kind: a step front to her step back, a lift of her hand, the drift as her hips slowly sway toward his. He presses the palm of his hand to the small of her back, balancing them both to dip her, to sweep her away -
Lie.
Kensa’s own low warning rings in his ears. She matches his ferocity. Oh, she could send him packing with the fiercest gashes and he would love her all the more. It is not just the strange darkness he finds attractive, but the power in her voice that he cannot resist. She is truly a love the likes of which he will never feel again, so fierce and untamed and admirable. The furious kick of her leg only serves to send that endearment surging more powerfully through his chest.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
There is no turning away from the parts of himself Litotes embraced while away from Kensa, but he thinks they both changed in crueler ways. The need to swallow back his knife’s edges is not strong enough. No matter how clouded or desperate the image of the boy he once was claws at the pit in his brain, he is never tall enough to drag himself out. Within this cold man lies the shadow of a burnt and broken youth - formed into the guarded adult he is today.
He wonders, just before the golden woman launches herself at him, if he will ever feel normal again. He hopes to god he will.
When Kensa attacks, there is the smallest calm where he notices every little detail of her face. The sun glints off of her golden freckles, which then reflect in her equally as golden eyes. She sparkles even in her rage, the fire behind that gaze only serving to light her up more. Her ears are tangled back into a mane that whips as she rushes forward - like her own bristling star of energy, like she does not need the sun, like she creates the universe herself.
The blows come as Litotes curls in on himself. First a bruise to his shoulder and then two kicks to his ribs. Wincing, he glares at her teeth as they snap centimeters from his face. He wants to ride the anger of being attacked; instead, he only stares through narrow eyes. They face off once more, entering yet another dance, this one of breathe and blood.
Kensa tastes exactly like he thought she would. Her mouth against his almost comes as a surprise - almost. Pain flares as his lip stretches, yet Litotes leans away to prolong the draw. Blood pools in his mouth as his bottom lip cracks in several places. He leans back in just as quickly as he leaned away, this time less confident than before.
Lie cannot give up, though, not yet -
So he pushes his mouth back to hers, stumbling forward in such a clumsy way that it wrenches his heart. He breaks from her mouth and presses the side of his muzzle to hers:
“Tell me to fucking leave, Kensa.”
@[Kensa]
Though not consciously aware that Kensa misses him, there is a certain rhythm to their movements that gives her away. The cremello’s body responds in kind: a step front to her step back, a lift of her hand, the drift as her hips slowly sway toward his. He presses the palm of his hand to the small of her back, balancing them both to dip her, to sweep her away -
Lie.
Kensa’s own low warning rings in his ears. She matches his ferocity. Oh, she could send him packing with the fiercest gashes and he would love her all the more. It is not just the strange darkness he finds attractive, but the power in her voice that he cannot resist. She is truly a love the likes of which he will never feel again, so fierce and untamed and admirable. The furious kick of her leg only serves to send that endearment surging more powerfully through his chest.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
There is no turning away from the parts of himself Litotes embraced while away from Kensa, but he thinks they both changed in crueler ways. The need to swallow back his knife’s edges is not strong enough. No matter how clouded or desperate the image of the boy he once was claws at the pit in his brain, he is never tall enough to drag himself out. Within this cold man lies the shadow of a burnt and broken youth - formed into the guarded adult he is today.
He wonders, just before the golden woman launches herself at him, if he will ever feel normal again. He hopes to god he will.
When Kensa attacks, there is the smallest calm where he notices every little detail of her face. The sun glints off of her golden freckles, which then reflect in her equally as golden eyes. She sparkles even in her rage, the fire behind that gaze only serving to light her up more. Her ears are tangled back into a mane that whips as she rushes forward - like her own bristling star of energy, like she does not need the sun, like she creates the universe herself.
The blows come as Litotes curls in on himself. First a bruise to his shoulder and then two kicks to his ribs. Wincing, he glares at her teeth as they snap centimeters from his face. He wants to ride the anger of being attacked; instead, he only stares through narrow eyes. They face off once more, entering yet another dance, this one of breathe and blood.
Kensa tastes exactly like he thought she would. Her mouth against his almost comes as a surprise - almost. Pain flares as his lip stretches, yet Litotes leans away to prolong the draw. Blood pools in his mouth as his bottom lip cracks in several places. He leans back in just as quickly as he leaned away, this time less confident than before.
Lie cannot give up, though, not yet -
So he pushes his mouth back to hers, stumbling forward in such a clumsy way that it wrenches his heart. He breaks from her mouth and presses the side of his muzzle to hers:
“Tell me to fucking leave, Kensa.”
@[Kensa]
