Kiss me again
Kiss me until I am sick of it
It’s his nerves that bring him to Loess in the pale pink light of dawn. He’s not much for early rising either except in those cases of when he didn’t sleep in the first place. This was one of those days, having stood on the southern cliffs looking over the sea until he could hear the song of meadowlarks and sparrows greeting the first rays of light that stretched over the Mountain. There had been many thoughts he had chewed over, many different ways this meeting could go. There was no point in putting it off any longer and he would only know the outcome once he was in it.
They don’t have to wait long once Aela’s call comes through the canyon. A winged mare, colored in the fine evening threads of dusk, comes to rest on the lip of the canyon. He would bet his life that this is the gunmetal man’s beloved Queen purely based on the confidence of her greeting. She seems a mare use to running and controlling things, a sure sign of a leader, and although the red of his eyes refuses to soften he does allow his smile to ease in its smugness. “So you’ve heard of me? Only good things I’m sure.” The grin on his dark lips giving off more confidence than he truly feels although he knows that his takeover of the Pampas had spread as rampant as the wildflowers of his home. Oceane easily steers the conversation and asks for their patience. Asks for them to wait for Cheri.
“Not a problem.” He responds casually, a single flick of a red iris going to Aela before landing back on Oceane. Not a twitch of dark skin or a flick of his finely pointed ear gives away the sudden boiling of his blood at her name. The bane of his existence. Of course she was here, of fucking course. There had been no hide or hair of the young jeweled mare since the autumn day he had left her in the Pampas. After he had kissed her like a starving man who may never know the luxury of food again. He reminds himself that it doesn’t matter if she is here or not as he falls into his favorite mantra. She is nothing. She is nothing.
Another joins Oceane, this one with a heavy musky scent (like a predator, he thinks) mixed with the fresh brine of the sea. The older stallion is covered in various scars and brands and has a missing eye to boot. He can’t help the curious gaze he gives the flaxen man who settles behind his Queen and as he offers his name, the red eyed Fae gives a slight gesture of his muzzle in acknowledgement. “I am Obscene and this is Aela.” He looks to his companion for a moment and can’t help the rare twinge of warmth he feels when he looks at her. The fact that she stood proudly at his side, the fact that she had agreed to do this. That for once he wasn't alone.
Her scent hits him like a ton of bricks but it’s only the merest flicker in the depths of red that acknowledge who has joined them. Outwardly he is as stoic as a statue but his insides suddenly writhe with discomfort. She still smelled of storms, of sweat and dust, of another stallion that strongly intermingles with her own feminine fragrance. "Mr. Prayers" he rightly assumes and something deep within him hisses with displeasure. The corner of his mouth curls into a ghost of a frown before it’s quickly schooled into a more appropriate expression of indifference. Deep down he had known that it had been foolish to think that whatever had happened between them, whatever words had fallen from her drunken tongue, had held a splinter of truth. It had always been a lie, that day amongst the flowers, when she had told him she had wanted to touch him, that she wanted him to touch her. He had known, he had always known… but it still doesn’t stop the sharp pain that manages to slip past the hard armor and momentarily stab the crumpled thing that was his heart.
Crumples that small part of himself that had dared to believe her even just a fraction.
She never mattered. He reminds himself of this again and again and then looks at Aela. Takes in the cool hues of oceanic blue and the coy smile on her soft lips. Hardens his resolve and latches himself to the heat of his anger, the fire that roars to life when it finds it’s much easier to hate the green and onyx mare now than it ever has before. As she speaks his name, as if it’s nothing, he allows his crimson gaze to turn to her. It lingers darkly for only a moment (taking the memories of their kiss and feeding them to the hungry flame in his hollow chest) the smug smile locked in place as tightly as the indifferent mask he wears, before sliding back to Oceane. As if nothing had ever happened between them. As if she wasn’t even there. The only lie he could still tell even if it was only to himself.
“Shall we?” He offers to the Loessian Queen, an invitation for her to lead the way as well as the conversation. His muzzle extends to Aela and briefly rests along the supple skin of her fair curved neck, a gesture to walk with them as well as a subtle dig to the young diplomat that shouldn't even matter. A gentle current flows through his glittering strands of gold and black, sending them spiraling around him before settling in tangled tendrils across his broad neck. Metallic glitter catches in the sunlight as he falls into step beside Oceane, a single pointed ear swiveling slightly back to keep an eye on whatever conversation may fall behind them. His focus however remains on the one he’s come to see. “I told your informant that if you needed a break from all this..” And here he gestures to the sweeping expanse of clustered cliffs that make up her home, “That you were more than welcome to visit and let down your hair. The offer still stands if you wish to frolic amongst the flowers.” He laughs lowly with that impish wry smile. Trying to gauge Oceane's temperament as much as he’s trying to gain insight on what she thinks of him and his recent rising.
Obscene
@[Aela]
@[Oceane]
@[Cheri]