That grin he wears makes her want to wipe it off his face - that knowing look is something she is known for sporting and she finds it less than amusing on another’s face. However, because it is Isakov, she allows it; he is beautiful and mysterious and lovely, and if anyone is allowed to be smug (beside herself), she decides that it is a look that suits the galaxy-strewn boy quite well. She returns his smile with her own knowing smirk, something like fondness twinkling in her vibrant gold irises.
Sunlight watches him carefully in the darkness, inspecting the soft glow he emits. It’s curious to her and in the darkness she draws nearer to him, unfamiliar with the starlight as compared to her firelight. It is soft where her flame is bold and brash - a gentle glow, cool and inviting, like meadow grasses in the shade of a sunny day. She watches as the spirals move on their own accord, shimmering splendid now that her light does not steal from him. She’d never admit it, but in this moment, she didn’t mind that she was not the center of attention. She nearly touches him, taking the gold of her mouth to the dark patches that run in spiraling nebulae across his face.
When he speaks is when she realizes she had been lost within his galaxies. She snorts softly, lifting her chin slightly and raising her brows, her expressive eyes finding his. She returns his smile as he affirms her dislike of silly games by announcing he doesn’t either and there is even a trill of a laugh that expels from her throat.
Her flame brightens the darkness that had surrounded them, making their shadows dance on the nearby trees that have gone unnoticed by them for quite some time. “I’m not sure yet,” she replies with a grin, wondering if she should follow the urge to let her lips sweep across his cheek. “Maybe I’ll trust you with nothing.” She’s lying, of course, and he would see that easily in the way she smiles at him, “but maybe I’ll trust you with everything.”
There is something in his mind that is suddenly out of place, jumping out at her. She plucks it carefully, her own expression becoming thoughtful for a moment. “What do you see beneath my surface, Isakov?” An innocent enough question, brought to life by a thought of his own.
sunlight
@[isakov]