[ her inhale is sharp at the fingers against her lips, silenced, and-- of course she trusts him. for all she can razz him for, rafayel... has always taken her seriously, looked out for her, had complained and still gone along with the things she asked. each thing warms her heart the way his touch does her cheeks, flush following down her neck, beneath her lighter clothing, and she shudders beneath it, lips pressed tight against an escaping noise. it's dizzying.
the words are pretty, though. that registers through the heat muddling her mind. whatever it is-- it's pretty, different language or nonsense or-- or just something normal she can barely hear. the question breaks through her thoughts briefly and she laughs, something strained but not unhappy, and her hand eases under his... turns a little, to touch his finger tips back. ]
Worse. I don't know what spell you cast, [ unfortunately and painfully honest, ] but... worse. Like you set fire to me.
[ because malkuth wants him to do it to her other arm, down her back, feel the grazing pressure against her hip and thigh and
she gasps softly at her own imagination, shaking her head as she tries to calm. stop. control. her eyes are still closed though, a testament to her continued trust. it's hard to swallow. she does feel bad, but-- ]
[ it's unusual for him to feel his own temperature rising like this. if he had to ponder upon a similar incident or time, it was ... he breaks the thought quickly, before focusing back on her words as if his own life depended on it. than again, it's easy in this space between them. it almost feels like they're secluded on their own island, away from prying eyes, and sharing in something inexplicable— despite having no shortage of words, he doesn't think he could explain it even if he tried.
each and every word she speaks feels amplified somehow, like there's an itch in his ear that he just can't reach. ... and like he needs to hear more of it to simmer down. not just his emotions, but another more carnal inclination. one he thought shouldn't have been possible in the first place. not like this, at least.
"like you set a fire to me."
there's a certain irony to that considering his evol. he then tilts his head slightly. ] Balance it? [ he then draws his other hand and mimics the same motion on the other side. lets his fingers slide over her skin, but stops just before their fingers touch. instead he leans back in, his neck craning just slightly, and almost... just almost presses his lips against hers. he, fortunately, catches himself at the last minute.
he isn't sure if what he feels is shame or guilt, but he does get out one word. ]
You shouldn't have trusted me, you know. [ okay, that's several but who is keeping count. ]
[ she sure as hell isn't, shivering beneath his touch as it, yes, only continues to lick at her like flames, drawing lines of heat that spread out across her body. it's a very unfamiliar feeling, this desire. elijah hadn't the time, malkuth's metallic body had prevented it, and-- and after, when she did have flesh again, it was better put to dying and killing all over again. the blood on her hands is the last thing on her mind, thankfully, but maybe it'd be preferable to the fact that the only thing she can think of right now is rafayel.
his closeness, his being here at all, the heat she can feel radiating off him same as her and-- how much she wants to rid herself of her clothing to try and cool down, improper as it is, bad as it is, but that only increases tenfold when she feels his breath against her lips and he
doesn't
kiss her, which she's finding herself oddly disappointed by (shouldn't she be relieved? he's right, it isn't scientific, she shouldn't anyway, but she wants to she wants to she)
doesn't, just yet, his words pulling her thoughts to the front and her eyes open, licking her lips before she swallows. malkuth is trapped in more ways than one, but she... doesn't mind, actually, the rush of realization worsening the heat low in her belly as the world deafens to just them.
"you shouldn't have trusted me," he says, but why wouldn't she. each word is loud, warning, but malkuth can't see it as anything serious. rafayel isn't dangerous. he could be, the way rinne and takasugi are (both play at and have proven), but he's-- nice, too. ]
Well, [ her throat feels parched, ] too late now. I do trust you. You've never... given me a reason not to.
[ and he still won't, she thinks. one hand freeing itself to run up his arm back, thoughtless and just wanting-- just wanting to touch him, nothing else to it, earnest even in the smallest of ways. a little damp, more in his clothes than skin, the smell of the sea so tantalizing this close.
malkuth thinks she'd like to be pulled under. definitely her state, but there's no analyzing she can do of it right now. ]
Rafayel.
[ just a quiet call of his name to keep his attention forward. she doesn't know what to say after, wanting as she is, but maybe she doesn't need to if she's gonna be leaning up to kiss him anyway, soft in its uncertainty and decisive in her desire as it might be. ]
[ at present, he doesn't have to capacity to think ahead. nor is he in any state to ponder how his touch makes her feel. instead, all he can guess is if it's anything like how he feels, then maybe they're in more trouble than either of them have really bargained for. to begin with, he isn't sure he should be in proximity of someone else like this. he feels the heat blooming in his lower abdomen, his chest, his cheeks— even when his body still remains cool to the touch. it reminds him similarly of days where tides move in reverse, and where the water continues to ebb, leaving the shores a little lonelier. maybe it's a reflection of how he's felt.
instead of being entirely alone, he was surrounded by others, by the remainder of his civilization and its people, and yet he couldn't have felt more disconnected. he isn't sure why his thoughts are racing, or if he's thinking like this in contrary to how his body is reacting. all he thinks is... yeah, she shouldn't have trusted him.
after all, she didn't even know who he was, right?
she might think she understands, but... just like a certain miss hunter, he'd say it's a horrible miscalculation. he diverts his gaze for the most part, even when she speaks. ] I... [ when he finally looks back at his name being called, almost as if drawn by an invisible force, he feels the touch of her lips. despite how he feels, he can feel the stirring of the natural soul within him, who may have been more fond of hers than he expected.
it's why his head angles itself slightly and his fingers tremble slightly before he holds her shoulder. he isn't sure if he was trying to deepen the kiss instinctively, or get the last word in. it lasts one, two... maybe three seconds, before he pushes her away. his hand pushing on her shoulder as he's already beginning to shift his weight off the bed. ]
[ malkuth has never kissed someone before, nevermind be kissed back as light as the angling is, but... she thinks she likes it, how it eases something in her at the same time only doubles the yearning for company, as if finding a comfortable nook to nap in and lamenting having to leave it any.
that's probably-- no, it's definitely bad, since there's so, so little he know about her, despite what he'd learned already. there's blood on her hands that can't be cleaned. no matter how she might want for this (with him? or anyone? she's only beginning to realize either) there's still... so much that needs to be said, even if her thoughts are gone for the two, three seconds it lasts.
a new feeling rests in her heart when his hand pushes her away, battling with the heat and want that only enflames further, and malkuth unsuccessfully tries to follow for another. ]
Sorry, I-- [ she's not sorry. she wants to kiss him again. oh, that's embarrassing. ] Rafayel, please don't go.
[ if it's more her soul's keen awareness of loneliness or her own malkuth couldn't say, but him leaving feels like tearing a blanket off herself. her hand's a weak anchor against his arm, and
despite her words, despite her feelings right now, she does know she isn't... in the right state of mind, too, that's why she hadn't called-- whoever else, why she's been putting herself into timeout instead, so really, he should leave. he should. even if she really doesn't want him to and, on a baseless hope, she thinks he doesn't either. ]
[ despite the way it slid off his tongue (lol) like a joke, or a really bad attempt at being one— there's something serious in his underlying tone. it's like his own voice sobers him, before his actual body and brain even begins to catch up. to be honest, when it came to intimacy, there was only one person on the other end of his thoughts, and this remained as unchanged as the concept of the sun setting and rising each day. perhaps, precisely because of this, that the comprehension of how much he's messed up seems to hit him all at once, and leave him feeling a whole sea of emotions.
even when he still feels a certain headiness from their kiss, rafayel tries to will himself to get up and walk towards the door. it's a battle he never thought he'd be engaged in, really. walking away when it came to most people had always been so easy, after all. his feet shuffle slowly, as if taking in the way she apologizes to him. normally, this is where he could have been dramatic, maybe even make light of a situation that was clearly out of both of their control—
where'd they would both approach it like it's never happened at all.
but, she makes it more difficult than he thought possible. instead, his brows furrow slightly and bring a finger up to his forehead as if deeply in thought, even with his back to her. he then gives a small wave of his hand. ] You won't be. [ he doesn't necessarily feel guilty over leaving.
is it selfish that even now there's only one person on his mind? ]
I'll send you a message later, yeah? [ at least he's left some folded flowers by her door.
... but, is that comfort or something worse? he doesn't know. ]
[ funny, isn't it. how she's always left looking at someone else's back.
the guilt chews at her. it doesn't sober her the way she wishes it would, it doesn't lessen the flame -- just deepens the shame that came with it, even with the promise of a message later it
doesn't help
at all, the gnawing loneliness furthered by her soul, the heat and memories he's left her with. malkuth's got no other words even for herself, just a groan and curling up where he'd sat, the scent of the sea an unfortunate reminder. the flowers will be collected when she's sure he's far gone, and they'll find a place in her room like all the others, it just
won't
help, at all, the flush in her cheeks that won't go away even once her week ends. ]
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no subject
the words are pretty, though. that registers through the heat muddling her mind. whatever it is-- it's pretty, different language or nonsense or-- or just something normal she can barely hear. the question breaks through her thoughts briefly and she laughs, something strained but not unhappy, and her hand eases under his... turns a little, to touch his finger tips back. ]
Worse. I don't know what spell you cast, [ unfortunately and painfully honest, ] but... worse. Like you set fire to me.
[ because malkuth wants him to do it to her other arm, down her back, feel the grazing pressure against her hip and thigh and
she gasps softly at her own imagination, shaking her head as she tries to calm. stop. control. her eyes are still closed though, a testament to her continued trust. it's hard to swallow. she does feel bad, but-- ]
Maybe... you need to balance it?
no subject
each and every word she speaks feels amplified somehow, like there's an itch in his ear that he just can't reach. ... and like he needs to hear more of it to simmer down. not just his emotions, but another more carnal inclination. one he thought shouldn't have been possible in the first place. not like this, at least.
"like you set a fire to me."
there's a certain irony to that considering his evol. he then tilts his head slightly. ] Balance it? [ he then draws his other hand and mimics the same motion on the other side. lets his fingers slide over her skin, but stops just before their fingers touch. instead he leans back in, his neck craning just slightly, and almost... just almost presses his lips against hers. he, fortunately, catches himself at the last minute.
he isn't sure if what he feels is shame or guilt, but he does get out one word. ]
You shouldn't have trusted me, you know. [ okay, that's several but who is keeping count. ]
no subject
his closeness, his being here at all, the heat she can feel radiating off him same as her and-- how much she wants to rid herself of her clothing to try and cool down, improper as it is, bad as it is, but that only increases tenfold when she feels his breath against her lips and he
doesn't
kiss her, which she's finding herself oddly disappointed by (shouldn't she be relieved? he's right, it isn't scientific, she shouldn't anyway, but she wants to she wants to she)
doesn't, just yet, his words pulling her thoughts to the front and her eyes open, licking her lips before she swallows. malkuth is trapped in more ways than one, but she... doesn't mind, actually, the rush of realization worsening the heat low in her belly as the world deafens to just them.
"you shouldn't have trusted me," he says, but why wouldn't she. each word is loud, warning, but malkuth can't see it as anything serious. rafayel isn't dangerous. he could be, the way rinne and takasugi are (both play at and have proven), but he's-- nice, too. ]
Well, [ her throat feels parched, ] too late now. I do trust you. You've never... given me a reason not to.
[ and he still won't, she thinks. one hand freeing itself to run up his arm back, thoughtless and just wanting-- just wanting to touch him, nothing else to it, earnest even in the smallest of ways. a little damp, more in his clothes than skin, the smell of the sea so tantalizing this close.
malkuth thinks she'd like to be pulled under. definitely her state, but there's no analyzing she can do of it right now. ]
Rafayel.
[ just a quiet call of his name to keep his attention forward. she doesn't know what to say after, wanting as she is, but maybe she doesn't need to if she's gonna be leaning up to kiss him anyway, soft in its uncertainty and decisive in her desire as it might be. ]
no subject
instead of being entirely alone, he was surrounded by others, by the remainder of his civilization and its people, and yet he couldn't have felt more disconnected. he isn't sure why his thoughts are racing, or if he's thinking like this in contrary to how his body is reacting. all he thinks is... yeah, she shouldn't have trusted him.
after all, she didn't even know who he was, right?
she might think she understands, but... just like a certain miss hunter, he'd say it's a horrible miscalculation. he diverts his gaze for the most part, even when she speaks. ] I... [ when he finally looks back at his name being called, almost as if drawn by an invisible force, he feels the touch of her lips. despite how he feels, he can feel the stirring of the natural soul within him, who may have been more fond of hers than he expected.
it's why his head angles itself slightly and his fingers tremble slightly before he holds her shoulder. he isn't sure if he was trying to deepen the kiss instinctively, or get the last word in. it lasts one, two... maybe three seconds, before he pushes her away. his hand pushing on her shoulder as he's already beginning to shift his weight off the bed. ]
Next time I'll really scream. [ lol. ]
no subject
that's probably-- no, it's definitely bad, since there's so, so little he know about her, despite what he'd learned already. there's blood on her hands that can't be cleaned. no matter how she might want for this (with him? or anyone? she's only beginning to realize either) there's still... so much that needs to be said, even if her thoughts are gone for the two, three seconds it lasts.
a new feeling rests in her heart when his hand pushes her away, battling with the heat and want that only enflames further, and malkuth unsuccessfully tries to follow for another. ]
Sorry, I-- [ she's not sorry. she wants to kiss him again. oh, that's embarrassing. ] Rafayel, please don't go.
[ if it's more her soul's keen awareness of loneliness or her own malkuth couldn't say, but him leaving feels like tearing a blanket off herself. her hand's a weak anchor against his arm, and
despite her words, despite her feelings right now, she does know she isn't... in the right state of mind, too, that's why she hadn't called-- whoever else, why she's been putting herself into timeout instead, so really, he should leave. he should. even if she really doesn't want him to and, on a baseless hope, she thinks he doesn't either. ]
... I don't want to be alone again.
justice for malkuth
even when he still feels a certain headiness from their kiss, rafayel tries to will himself to get up and walk towards the door. it's a battle he never thought he'd be engaged in, really. walking away when it came to most people had always been so easy, after all. his feet shuffle slowly, as if taking in the way she apologizes to him. normally, this is where he could have been dramatic, maybe even make light of a situation that was clearly out of both of their control—
where'd they would both approach it like it's never happened at all.
but, she makes it more difficult than he thought possible. instead, his brows furrow slightly and bring a finger up to his forehead as if deeply in thought, even with his back to her. he then gives a small wave of his hand. ] You won't be. [ he doesn't necessarily feel guilty over leaving.
is it selfish that even now there's only one person on his mind? ]
I'll send you a message later, yeah? [ at least he's left some folded flowers by her door.
... but, is that comfort or something worse? he doesn't know. ]
we should kill him
the guilt chews at her. it doesn't sober her the way she wishes it would, it doesn't lessen the flame -- just deepens the shame that came with it, even with the promise of a message later it
doesn't help
at all, the gnawing loneliness furthered by her soul, the heat and memories he's left her with. malkuth's got no other words even for herself, just a groan and curling up where he'd sat, the scent of the sea an unfortunate reminder. the flowers will be collected when she's sure he's far gone, and they'll find a place in her room like all the others, it just
won't
help, at all, the flush in her cheeks that won't go away even once her week ends. ]