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askinkiskarma · 2 years ago

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𝕄𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕚𝕟 𝕄𝕖 | ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕀: 𝕎𝕙𝕪 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝔾𝕠𝕥𝕥𝕒 𝔹𝕖 𝕊𝕠 𝕍𝕚𝕔𝕚𝕠𝕦𝕤

Pairing: Neteyam x (f)Omaticaya!Reader

synopsis: you and Neteyam are the two prodigies of the Omaticaya, and while that unmoving fact brought you together as children, now, as adults, it brings you to your knees, as each day is just another opportunity for you to hurt each other in any and every way your minds could conjure up.

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, enemies-to-lovers, strong language, mentions of violence, blood, neteyam being an absolute dick, mentions of reader being choked (not in the fun way)

wc: 5.4k words

a/n: after a much longer wait than anticipated, my enemies-to-lovers fic is officially here, and I'm so excited to start a new series. As much as I love the one shots and the requests and the drabbles, I am a series enthusiast at heart, and this is something i'm really looking forward to, as I find this whole idea very challenging and hope i do it justice. pls enjoy besties, and as always, thank you for every like, reblog, reply, it means the world x (thank you very much to @cinetrix for her amazing Neteyam art ily bestie x)

na'vi compendium: syä - bitter, rumaut - cannonball fruit tree, tanhì - bioluminescent freckle, parultsyìp - children

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I tried to look for the best in the worst, but like, fuck me, that caused a commotion

You're lucky I'm a private person, I’ve quietly carried your burden

And everyone thinks you're an angel, but shit, I would probably use different wording

“You know, syä, one day, I’m going to be better than you at this, and that day, you will have to swallow your words, and I think that’ll be very hard for you to do.”

“You know, Lo’ak, if you one day do beat me at anything, then I’ll be more than happy to swallow my words. I’ll even swallow my tongue, if you want.” You chuckled as you propped yourself onto a thin branch of a rumaut, maybe 50 metres from the target on the ground, and dangling from it, upside down, you took aim, focusing intently with one eye closed. Breathing in, you took the shot, and watched as it landed straight in the middle, right next to your last arrow, very far away from Lo’ak’s arrows, which were buried somewhere so obscure, you couldn’t even spot them anymore.

“You suck.” Lo'ak puffed, rolling his eyes annoyedly. You laughed and reclaimed your spot next to him, nudging him softly with a hand.

“No, skxawng, you suck. That’s why we’re here.”

These little training sessions have become one of your favourite things to spend your afternoons doing. They started a few weeks ago, when Lo’ak came by unannounced to your tent, his tail sheepishly between his legs. He hated that he had to ask, his enormous pride wounded and scarred, but he figured finally building up the courage to ask you to train him in his bow and arrow practice was better than asking his brother and once more proving the chasm between their skill level true. You were cocky and arrogant on the surface, but deep down, Lo’ak knew you had a heart of gold and wouldn’t judge and, at the end of the day, would do anything for him, and for his whole family.

Well, almost his whole family.

You found the oldest Sully sibling by his tent, masterfully skinning a yarik from his latest hunt. Just like everything else Neteyam did, he excelled at it. He looked peaceful and deep in thought as he worked, expression which quickly melted into annoyance when his lips pursed in a tight line and his eyes hardened, as soon as they spotted you making your way towards him. You smirked when you noticed the change, loving to see him so on edge whenever you invaded his personal bubble, which happened to be all the time, since you were as good as Neytiri and Jake’s adoptive daughter.

You loved Neytiri and Jake. You owed them everything you had, everything you were. After your parents’ death, they provided you with the support and love and care needed to not fall into the pits of despair that came with being orphaned, with being all alone. They saw something in you, ever since you were a child, and trained you side by side with their oldest son, Neteyam. Quickly, it was obvious to everyone who paid attention that you were a prodigy, just like he was. Neteyam liked you when you were kids, and you liked him, too. You loved him, in fact. He was your best friend, and you were his. It was hard not to be each other’s best friends, when you spent so much time together, when you shared every blister, every bloodied gash, every muscle cramp from practice. You shared the good and the bad, and it was just the two of you. Nobody else knew what you went through or could possibly understand, nobody else had to spend their whole childhood being honed into the perfect warriors, the future of the Omaticaya strength. Kids played and kids laughed and kids held hands splashing in the nearby river, but you and Neteyam cleaned each other’s wounds and gave each other words of encouragement, and soft, shy smiles as your eyes met across the practice field.

That was all in the past. Very far in the past. So far so, it was hard for you to conceptualise that it happened in this life, and it wasn’t some sort of fantasy you made up in your head, because there was nothing left of the warmth or the camaraderie you once shared. Whereas before he was a warm shelter from the storm in your life, now he was the storm, cold and ruthless, out to get you and to hurt you, to turn your limbs cold and your heart numb. You don’t know when this happened. You just know that at some point around when you were 12, Neteyam started pushing you away, until one day you were so far away, you were just a dot in his life, so far removed from the vast, centre-stage line you used to represent, a line between his past and future, between a friend and something more, something better, something permanent.

It’s been 7 years since. Seven years since Neteyam was more or less a stranger, albeit an annoying, aggravating stranger. Because a stranger, you could ignore. A stranger, you didn’t have to see every damn day, in practice, in stings, in battles, at breakfast, lunch and dinner. A stranger might have ignored you, or pretend you don’t exist, but not Neteyam. Neteyam was determined to make your life a living hell, to make you feel as unwelcome and inadequate as humanly possible, and so you resigned yourself to returning the favour, because you very rarely ever lost to him, and you weren’t planning on starting any time soon.

When you and Lo’ak approached, you watched as he sized you up, his eyes travelling down your body, lingering for just a second longer on your chest, covered in flowy, silken fabric, your signature look. You loved the beads, and the feathers that usually concealed Na’vi bodies, but what you loved even more was the feel of the luxurious, soft material that you took great pleasure in making yourself from a secret, coveted technique your mum taught you as a child, before she died. You tried to ignore how his stare made you feel, how the tingling that always appeared on your skin matched the bubbling feeling in your stomach, and you pushed it down, choosing to believe that’s just the feeling of hatred, of deep, intense dislike, that you didn’t feel for anyone but him.

“If you’re not actually going to contribute anything of use to the clan, you might as well train instead of wasting time and dragging Lo’ak to your level. Are you not in enough shit with father as it is, baby bro?”

You didn’t even look at him as you walked past, opening the flap to the Sully family tent.

“Well, Neteyam, not all of us have to try so hard all the time to keep up. Some of us are just naturally better than others.” You say with a sly smirk, almost able to hear the steam coming out of his ears, before you entered the tent and closed the flap behind you.

“The two of you will kill each other one day, you know that, right?”

You rolled your eyes at Kiri, who was dutifully making healing pastes by mixing it in a small pot on the fire, and removed the bow from around your torso, tossing the quiver on the ground and sitting next to it, warming your hands off the heat emanating from it.

“Or fuck each other, one of the two.”

“Lo’ak!” You and Kiri hissed at the same time, and you threw a small rock you found on the ground at him, hitting him right in the middle of his forehead. You smiled, satisfied when he yelled in pain. You never missed.

“Ow?! You’re so mean sometimes, no wonder he doesn’t like you! I’m just saying, you guys always have sexual tension, and I’m definitely not the only one that thinks so. Spider says so, too.”

“Oh, well if Spider says so, then it must be true! It couldn’t be that you’re both children, and your mind hasn’t left the gutter since you first had a girl let you into second base.”

“Ah… Mira… she was something, wasn’t she? Haven’t seen her in a while.”

“Yeah, she’s hiding from you.”

Lo’ak returned the rock in a pointed throw, that you dodged effortlessly, smirking in his direction.

“See? Mean.”

Walking through the village in the late afternoon, you are pleasantly surprised at the still bustling atmosphere, all the men, women and children contributing in their own respective ways to the clan’s prosperity and success. People were returning from hunts, crafting arrows, sharpening knives, preparing new garments for the warriors that will be leaving for a new mission early in the morning. It filled you with a sense of wonder, this clan, despite having lived and breathed in it your whole life, it never ceased to amaze you, how beautiful, how grand, how unified it was. It made you determined, more and more each day, to fight the fight, to never give up or give in, to always strive to be better, stronger.

It was a big one tomorrow, a big train filled with guns and supplies, protected by 10 helos and armed guards, that were needed to the clan and would constitute a big loss for the humans. A win-win, as Jake would sometimes say. You couldn’t even remember when the first one of these missions started. It’s been more than 5 years since the humans have returned, 5 years since life as you knew it changed forever, 5 years since death and hurt followed you everywhere you went, since every day felt like a battle for survival, for your clan, and your people, and your world. Back then, that first mission terrified you, it ate at your soul and your body, manifesting itself in chills and shakes, in crying eyes and trembling lips.

You remember that day like it was yesterday, you remember how you and Neteyam were the youngest in the war party, how for the first time in years, you felt a connection to the boy as your eyes met on your respective ikran, and you saw in them pain, and fear… and yearning. For a second, he was your friend again, and the future you dreamt about as a kid, one where it was just you and him, facing this harsh world together, came back in full force, taking the breath out of your lungs. But the second passed and so did his gaze and his vulnerability, and his walls never diminished, but only got thicker and more fortified in time, and yours did too, as a result. It hurt you, his behaviour, how sudden the change had been and how drastic, how he pushed you away with no goodbye, with no chance to defend yourself, how no matter how much you tried to mend it, it just ended up making it worse. So after a while, you gave as good as you got, and blow by blow, your relationship died like soldiers on the battlefield, broken and bruised, rotting away, only the beautiful memory of what used to be left behind.

Training was still in full force at the edge of the village, in the big clearing fortified by trees and a waterfall where Jake now taught you all how to use human weapons. You didn't really need the practice, not anymore, having mastered every weapon he thought fit to throw at you years ago, but still, you went, because you may not need it, but one person you wanted to see did.

You smiled as you saw him, struggling with a Y70 Bullpup Rifle, a deep frown on his face and a small pout on his lips, and your heart swelled at the sight. O'ì'en Te Äfawoo Ìrauyon'itan was many things, all good and pure, all sweet and kind, a good balance for you, all fire and ice, no sense of balance or middling emotions. He was a mighty warrior, and a needed shelter from the new storms in your life. You've known him your whole life, but have started spending more time with him recently, as you started subbing for Jake as a mentor and a teacher, in days he was too preoccupied or otherwise engaged with one of his other many Olo'eyktan duties. He found the human weapons particularly strange and difficult to understand, so you weren't surprised now, finding him like this, struggling as he was, still trying to understand how to put it back together, how to make it work again.

You snuck behind him, careful not to make a noise, and he startled as your hands reached around and found his chest, that you caressed, tracing his defined pecs and abs, laughing as the weapon almost dropped from his hands.

"Tanhì, you scared me. What are you doing? People are watching."

"So? Let them watch." your eyes found Jake, who was eyeing your interaction curiously, an eyebrow raised and an amused smirk on his face. You brought your hand to your forehead and greeted him with a smile, and he waved at you, another human gesture he found it hard to part ways with. He made his way towards the pair of you, enveloping you in a big hug, and you almost suffocated in between his swollen, muscular pecs.

"Woah, Jake, you're gonna kill me right before an important mission." he laughs again, and you feel the deep rumble in his chest, reverberating in the forest surrounding you.

"I see you, ma Olo'eyktan."

"I see you, O'ì'en. Is the gun giving you trouble? I'm sure my little spark here can help you out. Seems you two are... close enough that she might consider it." you rolled your eyes and removed yourself from his grasp, and his knuckles made contact with the top of your head, putting pressure and twisting until it hurt, in yet another human habit you hated, that he called a noogie. He said it was affectionate, but you weren't so sure.

"Good luck." and with a wink, he was gone, focusing on the other Na'vi who needed his help and guidance.

You got on your tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

"Right. So this part is the underslung grenade luncher and it goes -"

It was late at night when you made your way back to your tent, smiling to yourself at the tranquility and joy of your evening, so far removed from the morning that was waiting for you and all you stood to lose when it came. Worry enveloped you like a shroud as you approached, and haunting thoughts tugged at your mind, but they didn't have time to fester, not as soft moans and breathy names percolated in your ears instead and took their place, names and voices you recognised. You circled your tent to the tree that rested right behind it, and you found exactly what you thought you would, exactly what you didn't want to ever see in your life. Neteyam's back shielding his little annoying girlfriend's naked body propped against the tree, with her legs around his hips, as he rutted into her.

You hated Neteyam in that moment. You knew he was doing it on purpose, you knew there was no other reason why he would choose this spot to do this, other than the knowledge that you would be coming to bed soon and the satisfaction he knew he would get from your reaction. But you wouldn't give it to him. The satisfaction, that is. He was good, at the little mind games, at knowing what buttons to push to drive you to the point of considering whether your love for the Sullys was greater than the desire to remove his head from his shoulders, but in time, you learnt all his little tricks, and in time, you learnt how to beat him at his own game.

You cleared your throat, your voice sweet and docile as honeycomb as you spoke.

"Neteyam, I just came from your family's tent. Mo'at was looking for you, she said you've been missing you treatments for your genital warts." You let out an affected noise, trying your hardest to sound sympathetic and concerned. "I'm sure it's fine, though. I'm sure the elders are wrong when they talk about how it makes fungus grow out of your vagina if you're infected by it." You almost broke your composure when the girl let out a pained yelp, but otherwise pushed through.

"Oh, well! Have a good evening!" And with that, you took your leave, grinning from ear to ear as all you heard when you entered your tent was screaming and Neteyam trying to hush her and defuse a newly-chaotic situation.

The mission and the aftermath went as well as could be expected, and you were proud of your contribution that never went unnoticed in the clan, or among the Sullys, much to Neteyam's dismay. He was still enraged about your little stunt, and you were happy that despite his continuous stink eye, you killed 5 humans, and secured the perimeter at all times, keeping the war party safe throughout the duration of the mission. The praise from everyone in the village meant the world to you, it meant everything to you, and by the afternoon, you felt on top of the world. The feeling didn't last, though, replaced with more anxiety than you knew what to do with, as Mo'at asked for your immediate presence by her side, as a matter of urgency.

You were nervous as you made your way to the Tsa’hik’s tent, unsure of why you would have been summoned there in the first place. You were going to see Mo’at for dinner shortly anyhow, so whatever it was she had to tell you was definitely too important to wait, and well, let’s just say you had a bad feeling. The bad feeling worsened when you finally pushed past the flap of the marui and found Neteyam sitting on the ground, the same kind of muted confusion visible on his face, that quickly changed into his signature “you” look as soon as he noticed who it was that walked in. You brought your fingers to your forehead and bowed your head to your Tsa’hik.

“I see you, Mo’at.”

She returned the gesture with a smile, and you sat down in front of her.

“Is something wrong, ma Tsa’hik? Why are Neteyam and I here?”

Mo’at circled the pit of fire that resided in the middle of her tent and placed a hand on one of your and Neteyam’s shoulder, a big smile on her face.

“It’s great news, ma parultsyìp. My latest communion with Eywa brought forth visions and guidance from the our Great Mother. Visions of you, my children.” Her smiled dropped a little and was replaced by a more serious expression, which accompanied her tone of voice.

“I know you two haven’t seen eye to eye for a while now. I know a lot of it is our fault, pushing you both to be the best versions of yourselves and pushing you apart as a result, but you used to be best friends, you used to hold each other close in your hearts, and Eywa thinks that can happen again… that it should happen again.”

Mo’at’s words scared you. She was being vague and the direction of the conversation made you uncomfortable, sending shivers down your spine. You looked at Neteyam, who was watching you already and you stifled a grimace at the way he turned instantly, like the thought of meeting your gaze was too unbearable to even be considered.

“Grandmother, what are you saying?”

“Eywa has chosen the new Tsa’hik, grandson. You two are to be a mated pair, and Neteyam, you will be one of the finest ruling pairs the Omaticaya has ever seen.”

Your mouth fell agape in shock and your brows furrowed as your mind was assimilating the influx of information, the way that your life instantly changed in so little time, in as little time as it took Mo’at to say the words out loud. Mated pair? Tsa’hik? You and Neteyam? Too many contradictions, too many oxymorons when said altogether for it to make sense to you. You looked over at Neteyam, hoping that for at least a second he’d let you in, he’d look at you, so you could work through this together, so you can navigate it together… so you can handle it together. But all you saw was anger and his composure coming apart at the seams, his tail shaking furiously and the tip of his ears a deep purple.

“Absolutely not. This has to be some sort of mistake, grandmother.”

Your own ears twitched and fell backwards at the unfairness of it all, at his booming tone and furious demeanour, at the way it was inconceivable to him that you'd have to spend your life together. It stung, the needles of hurt piercing your skin like a tattoo, marking you, how Neteyam never said no to his family, to his Tsa’hik, but decided to break that rule for himself just to reject you. It’s not like you wanted him, either, definitely not, but there was something about his antipathy towards you, unshaken and unwavering, even after all these years, that will always get under your skin, in the way that only he ever managed to. If there’s one thing you were good at, though, is matching him blow by blow.

“Yes, Mo’at. He has his standards set much too low to allow me to be his mate, and I have mine set way too high for him to be able to do anything but limbo under them.” yet another word you learnt from Jake, that seemed appropriate now, too appropriate to go to waste.

“That’s enough!” Mo’at was no longer in a joking mood as she looked at both of you, a stern disposition about her that you knew better than to cross. “Eywa’s decision is final, and she’s never wrong. I was just as shocked as you are, and I don’t know why she chose you, but she did. We will talk shortly about the ceremony. You can leave now.”

You sighed, your head falling in between your hands as you heard Neteyam scoffing and getting up, and the air that hit your back as he opened the flap of the tent and rushed out of it without another word.

“Mo’at… please. This has to be a mistake. I’m not fit to be Tsa’hik, you know this. I am a warrior, I have been a warrior my whole life. There’s much better suited people for the job, much better girls, I -“

Mo’at silenced you with an affectionate pat on your head. “I think you’d be better fitted than you think. Now go, I’m sure there’s better things you could be doing than sitting here, fretting over a done deal.”

The water in the lake of your secret meadow, your favourite place in the whole world, was colder than you were used to, a welcome respite in a sea of flames that felt like it was engulfing every corner of your mind and body, as you were processing the calamitous conversation you shared with the woman. What was she thinking? What was Eywa thinking? You and Neteyam? The man hated you. And you hated him. What kind of mateship could this ever be, other than one filled with pain and suffering. What kind of leadership could this be, other than one that was disjointed and chaotic. This was a mistake. You would tell Mo’at as much the next time you saw her.

You could at least try to reason with Jake and Neytiri first. They always listened to you, they always took your opinions into consideration. You would tell them that Neteyam has a girlfriend and an intended mate, that you were too young for such eternal commitments, that there was no productive resolution to this, as long as this was still to go ahead. You would do this and it would work. It had to work, because what was the alternative?

A little calmer and with a plan in mind, you swam your laps, enjoying the cold crisp feel of the water against your burning skin. You did this for hours, until you eventually tired, now peacefully laying on the soft grass, looking up at the stars. You have always been able to escape this sometimes harsh reality in the safety of your mind. But harsh reality always had a distasteful way of creeping back in, and it did so now in the form of the one person you never wanted to see, the one person whose presence had the power to burn you and turn you cold all at the same time.

“Leave, Neteyam.”

“No. We need to talk.”

“Oh, what could we possibly have to talk about, Neteyam?” You said sarcastically. Of course he’d want to talk now, finally coming with his tail between his legs. You might put him out of his misery if he was nice about it, if for the first time in years he found it in his tiny, little heart to apologise and talk to you like an actual person, if he came to you with some semblance of humbleness and communicated fairly and honestly. Maybe you could finally come to a mutual understanding. This would benefit both of you, so there had to be a way to finally learn to be civil to one another and put your difference aside.

“Stop being coy, it doesn’t suit you.” You rolled your eyes. This wasn’t off to a great start.

“Stop being a dick if you want to talk to me.”

“You have to go talk to my parents and tell them you don’t want this. Tell them you’re in love with that loser boyfriend of yours, tell them you’ve mated with him already. Tell them you don’t want to ever be tied down, that you don’t think the title of Tsa’hik would suit you. I don’t care what you say, just do it. You and I both know this can’t happen. It won’t matter what I say to my parents.” He looked down to his feet and mumbled mostly to himself. “It never does.” He collected himself quickly, before he continued.

“But they care about your opinion. I have to be Olo’eyktan, you don’t have to be Tsa’hik. So go talk to them.”

You rose to your feet and faced him. Your blood quickly started boiling in your veins at his words and tone, at the way he barely looked at you or acknowledged you, at the way he continued to treat you like a plague or disease to be sneered at, to be demeaned, to be avoided. You wanted to scream at him, to take him by his shoulders and shake some sense into him, and hope that this way the Neteyam you used to know, whose memory you still cherished despite all the horrible, unhappy, strenuous years that followed, would just return to you. But being vulnerable around him is something you’ve learnt the hard way you needed to avoid at all costs, so in the matter with which you’ve been accustomed, in a half-sneer, half-growl, you spoke.

“I have to give it to you, Neteyam, you definitely have some nerve. Coming here, demanding that I take one in the chin, yet again, might I add, and be the one to go and talk us out of this predicament, and not even being civil about it, when it’s you asking me the favour. You’ve always enjoyed letting me do all the dirty work, while you maintain the golden child title you clearly value so much. The mighty warrior. The perfect soldier. We both know, deep down, you’re just a fucking coward.”

You watched as his expression darkened, an edge to his face and beautiful features you’ve very rarely, if ever, seen before. But you were angry, so angry, so done protecting his feelings, so over trying to maintain a semblance of decorum for the sake of the love you shared in the past and the love you still share with the rest of his family, for the peace that you once hoped to protect. No one could make you angry like he could. No one got under your skin as well as he did, nuzzling there and making a home of the warmth of your bones, there to stay, until you were willing to forcefully remove him, until you were willing to finally break free from his unyielding grasp his presence had on your mind. It was finally time, it seemed.

“You sit there and act like this is an inconvenience to you. I’m going to be stuck being Tsa’hik forever. I’m one of the best warriors in this clan. I stood by Jake and Neytiri my whole life, just like you. Why the hell should you get to lead the people in battle, while I have to stay behind, and forsake everything I have ever worked for, all the sacrifices I made and all the years I gave to stand behind and heal your wounds? I should be Olo’eyktan between the two of us, and I think you know that, Neteyam. I think it eats at you at night, the thought. I think that’s the reason you have treated me like dirt since the second you realised this very fact. I think you’re scared your own parents prefer me. You’re scared that comes push to shove, that little bimbo girlfriend of yours might only be with you for the prestige that comes with fucking the future Olo’eyktan, and that if by any chance she finds this out, she’d dump you faster than a banana fruit on a sunny day.”

You knew it was a step too far, and definitely felt it as soon as Neteyam’s fingers wrapped around your throat and squeezed and your breath hitched in your throat with nowhere to go.

“You’re such a little bitch. Take it back.” There was no light in his tone, no levity, just pure rage, burning wildly in his eyes and manifested in his bared teeth, threatening fangs fully on display, the low growl blooming in his throat felt deep within you, and for the first time in your life, you were scared of the man sitting in front of you. You felt yourself becoming dizzy and disoriented as the lack of oxygen was taking over your mind, but you refused to give in to his desires, not when he was hurting you, not when he crossed a line, not when you could be hurting him. You smirked instead, and tried to focus enough to get the words out.

“You’re… a coward. You’re weak, Neteyam. Threatened by a little girl, so you pushed me away and continue to treat me like dirt. I have never thought I am better than you, Neteyam, until right now, that is. I realised something today. I don’t think I’m better than you. You think I’m better than you.”

With all your might and the last of your power, you kneed him, as hard as you could, straight in the groin, and exhaled in relief when his hand dropped from you throat and went to his loincloth, growling in pain. You groaned as you felt the marks he left on you, that will definitely bruise, and struggled to find your balance, as you walked slowly away from him.

“I’m just as unhappy about this as you are. But you crossed a line, Neteyam. The next time you lay a hand on me, I will make you pay, and I promise you that little girlfriend of yours will have to make do without offsprings.”

You left the spot that meant so much to you, that was now tainted forever, rubbing his finger imprints off your now sensitive, raw neck, heart full of deep anguish and mind filled with all the ways you were going to make him pay, and that started with one simple step: forsaking the plan to get out of this little arrangement.

taglist: @fanboyluvr @theycallmesia @afro-hispwriter @soleilmoon @crazy4books1 @bakugouswaif

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astarionmademewriteit · 1 year ago

Text

Make it Hurt

Enver Gortash x f!Durge (pre-tadpole)

Rating: Explicit

MDNI. 18+ only. Minors and blank bios will be blocked.

Wordcount: 1.7k

Tags: Blood play; Knife kink; Mentions of violence and gore; PIV rough sex; Choking; Spitting (in mouth); Act 3 Spoilers; Gortash being a lil' bit submissive but switch-coded.

Summary: Durge and Enver have another council meeting, but it is quickly revealed that Enver was using it as an excuse to see his favorite assassin. The sexual tension had been building up between them for while and Durge finally acts on it, finding quick but mutual gratification in their shared love for pain and blood.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

I grow weary of this cat and mouse game Gortash and I find ourselves playing at. It was no secret that centuries of bad blood bore between Bhaal and Bane. Their respective chosen settling their differences in order to overtake Baldur's Gate. However, the list of differences between Gortash and I happened to be shorter than previously suggested.

He was brilliant, to be sure. His thirst for blood and pain rivaled my own. But I was a seasoned killer, trained in the art of murder and violence. I did not veil the carnal pleasure that ran through my veins at the sight of spilled blood, nor the ferocity of lust that churned deep within me when I was called to dole out executions on his behalf.

Most others saw my duplicitous nature and turned away in quiet disgust, but Enver openly admired me for it. And now we sit at yet another council meeting, carving out our well-laid plans for the city.

Enver’s hand is splayed out over a letter from General Thorm detailing his work in the Shadowlands and the army he continues to amass. The contents bore me into bouts of restlessness.

I shove away from the table, and in one fluid motion draw my dagger and bury it into the table, right between his fingers.

His unflinching dark gaze meets mine and a smirk plays on his lips.

“Enough with this drivel, Gortash,” I hiss, “This is the second council meeting in one week. If I cared what Ketheric had to say, I'd visit that dreaded place myself. Why am I here?”

Enver chuckles darkly, pulling the dagger from the table and testing its sharpness. He presses his fingertip into the sharpened point, until blood rushes from his finger. Red rivulets flow freely from his wound, splattering on Thorm's forgotten letter.

“Does world domination carve into too much of your precious time?” His rhetorical question was full of condescension, “Perhaps, I just needed to find another excuse to conspire with my favorite assassin.” He cocks an amused eyebrow in my direction and a smug grin pulls at the corners of his mouth.

I roll my eyes and yank the dagger from his grasp, hoping it catches against his skin once more so I can watch him bleed so prettily for me.

“There are better excuses than reading letters from that heretic,” I growl with disdain as I gesture towards the letters. Ketheric had his uses, but he never appreciated the finality of death–something I took personally, as his sacrilegious mindset directly conflicted with the tenants of Bhaal.

“Would you rather I prepare some prisoners for torture? Maiming? I understand you are fond of spilling blood,” his gaze never leaving mine, “It's one of the many things I admire about you.”

I circle around to his chair and sit on the edge of the council table beside Enver. I prop my leg over my knee, drawing his attention. He leans back in his chair and watches me closely, his eyes lingering on my form.

“Maiming?” I spit with disgust, “There is art in murder, but maiming is below me,” I grab his wrist and examine his pricked fingertip, “It's about coaxing,” I squeeze the tip of his finger and watch as blood dribbles down his wrist, “It is about taste,” I pull his finger into my mouth unprovoked, sucking and pulling blood from his wound. The coppery taste sends my body into a vibrating thrum of excitement and ecstasy.

Enver sucks in his breath and something between a sound of approval and a low guttural growl escapes his chest. I slowly let his finger retreat, never breaking our intense gaze.

“It's about practicality.” I push myself off the table and stand behind him, grabbing a handful of his hair at the crown of his head, pulling him painfully backwards until his eyes are back on me. The sharp edge of my dagger flush against his throat–one swift movement away from nicking his artery.

Gortash’s eyes watched me carefully, but he was neither scared nor nervous. I couldn’t help but feel pleased at this revelation. A look of longing passes between us, and in one fleeting moment I lean down and crush my lips to his. He receives me eagerly despite the steel of my knife threatening to bite into his flesh.

After a moment I bury the dagger into the table and Enver quickly stands and wraps his arms around my waist. I jump off the ground and wrap my legs around his middle, connecting our lips again. Our kiss is messy, filled with teeth, tongue, and lips–molding together with bruising force. His prickly stubble rubs deliciously against my face.

Enver spins and sits me on the edge of the table, hovering over me as his gilded fingers lace through my hair. He sighs deeply into my mouth as our tongues explore one another. I start thumbing the laces of his robes, pulling them open and running my nails through his thick chest hair–not holding back the way my sharp nails bite into his skin.

His golden filigree gloves claw at my scalp and down the back of my neck as he grows more desperate. I bite hard into his bottom lip until I draw blood, smiling against his abrasive kisses. He groans with pleasure as I suck the blood that surfaces from his wound.

I pull back momentarily, panting heavy as I whisper how good he tastes while pulling the last of his laces free. In a flurry of hurried movements, we undress before our lips crush back together, as if our very survival depended on it.

I lay flat on my back in the middle of the council table as he crawls over my body with a predatory gaze. Enver knees my legs open while he trails kisses down my neck. His cock rubbing torturously between my slick folds, teasing my clit and driving me into a lust-filled craze.

Impatience thrums through my body and I quickly grab Enver’s throat with enough force to cut off his airflow. I pull him up to meet my eyes, his dark gaze boring into me with such frantic intensity.

“Fuck me,” I growl, “Before I change my mind and slit your throat. And make it hurt.”

He chuckles darkly. Clearly amused by my threats, “As you wish, my assassin.”

Without a moment lost, he painfully forces himself inside me, threatening to split me in half. I cry out in pleasure, relishing in the way he fills me completely–his hips snapping into me with newfound ferocity. His golden filigree claws dig into the very wood of the council table, leaving deep splintering grooves.

My nails dig into his back, tracing painful welts into his flesh. The pain only motivates him to rut into me harder, pulling out far enough so that the swollen head of his cock forces me open wider, before snapping back into me with unrelenting force.

I wrap my legs around his waist, lifting my hips up off the table so that he is hitting my pleasure points with devastating precision. His name falls from my lips like a haunted hymn, echoing off the vaulted ceilings of the council room.

Enver’s lips meet mine with such brutality that my skull presses painfully into the table underneath. His back is now spattered in bloody scratch marks, dripping down his back artfully.

I groan in pleasure, my ecstasy building into a dizzying crescendo. Enver’s teeth suddenly dig into the flesh of my lips, and the familiar coppery flavor of my blood spills from the wound. He sucks at my blood, groaning with carnal delight while he continues to thrust relentlessly into my dripping cunt.

He pulls back, reveling in the taste of my blood–savoring it on his tongue. “Open up, dear assassin,” he growls. I comply instantly, opening my mouth wide and letting my tongue fall from my lips seductively.

He hovers over my mouth and allows a mixture of my blood and his saliva to fall back into my waiting mouth. I whimper–elated with our own debauchery. His pace becomes more aggressive–abusive, even, as I chase my release.

My pleasure peaks and I’m falling victim to the white hot flash of ecstasy that rocks through my body, seizing my muscles until I’m coming undone–completely unraveling under his body. My cries ring through the room, Enver’s name the only prayer I care to recite.

Gortash breathes heavily in my ear, chasing his own release. His thrusts become uneven and sloppy. His eyes are glazed over and his pupils are completely blown out as he watches me while I continue to fall apart as he ruins my cunt with his punishing pace.

As my orgasm starts to subside I pull the dagger from the wooden table and press the sharp edge to the soft flesh of his throat once again. His eyes roll into the back of his head, enjoying the cold steel against his neck–the possibility of death lingering close by only motivating him to fuck me harder–deeper.

“Come inside me, Enver,” I hiss, tightening my legs around his waist as he continues to rut into me, desperately. His golden claws dig into the table, further marring the council table–leaving behind evidence of our violent tryst.

“Yes, my assassin,” he relents, shooting ropes of cum deep in my slick cunt, filling me with his seed. Enver whimpers into my neck, biting viciously at the soft flesh of my throat, leaving bruising evidence of his lusty confessions on my skin. His cock spasming uncontrollably inside of me.

His orgasm begins to subside, our sweat mixes with blood and violent ecstasy as he stills inside of me.

I run my fingers through his dark, bedraggled hair, having discarded my dagger momentarily.

“Regain your strength, Gortash,” I command arrogantly, “We are not done yet.”

He laughs breathily as he tries to regain some semblance of composure, “Whatever my favorite assassin commands, I shall happily deliver.”

I felt momentary relief now that we have finally acted on our building sexual tension. The feeling is quickly replaced with a new kind of hunger–one that rivals the murderous fantasies that occupy my mind. We complement one another, like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle coming together to create a beautifully violent masterpiece.

I knew at that moment that something incredible would have to pull us away from one another. The impossibility of it amused me greatly.

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viktoriaashleyyx · 6 months ago

Text

Cover art by Konstantin Turovec

Here we begin to see more of where Sky has been this time, I am trying my hand at multifandom, but i feel i explained it well. If you're going to start reading this please finish it before getting mad at me. Rhysand is starting shit.

This is a pro Tamlin, anti Rhysand self insert revenge fic. All characters belong to SJM, but she wasn't treating them right. Tam x reader, Tam x Rhysands Sister (OC), First person narrative. This will also reference Elucien and Neris in the future but we aren't there yet.

Tw: violence, blood.

Ch1

Ch 5 >>> Ch 7

Chapter 6:

After dinner in Adriata, I portaled Tamlin and I home to the foyer of the manor, him shouldering the bags of clothes I purchased from the shops in Summer. It wasn't terribly expensive, I have just always loved supporting the local shops in the towns I visit.

There came a knock at the door just as Tamlin was heading upstairs. “Oooh! Visitors!!” I said excitedly as I ran to the door. Tamlin trailed closely behind me, setting the bags on the ground, because, for a while there, visitors didn't necessarily mean good things.

Pure fear consumed my face as I opened the door to see my brother, standing there holding his breath, and Lucien. It took only a second for my brother to drop Lucien and winnow away. “No! Lucien!” I screamed as I caught him, falling forward into me. His face was beaten and bloodied and a dagger stuck out from his back. I sat down on the ground, holding his head to my chest. There was so much blood, and it was pooling around me.

“Lucien, Lucien, stay with me. You survived Baron and your brothers, you will survive this.” Tamlin was panicking. “What about that potion you gave me when you first got back?”

“He would need to be able to swallow it.” I cried, tears streaming down my face. With shaky hands I grabbed his knees and pulled them up to me. Cradling him in my arms. I looked Tamlin dead in the eyes, “Trust. Me.” and Lucien and I fell through a portal.

We landed, just outside of the gates of Darnassus. I was kneeling, still holding him up in a seated position while the rest of his weight laid on the cool cobblestone underneath us. If I could get him to this realm, I could revive him myself. He had eaten the food of Azeroth many times, albeit unknowingly, it should be enough to send his soul to the angel that guards the grave. I hope it's enough. “Are you still with me?” I asked, looking for any sign of life. The only other step was that he die, here. Death in Azeroth is not as permanent as it is in Prythia. It's still terrifying, but if you can find your corpse you can resurrect, and I brought him directly to the graveyard where his soul would go.

He let out a soft groan, blood still pooling on the ground. Good, he's barely there, but he's still alive. “Let go.” I whispered to him, my voice shaky, he was obviously just the catalyst used to send me a message.

As I felt his skin growing colder, I looked to the graveyard in front of me. “Come,” I called, “come back to your body, you will be okay.” I could never see the spirits unless I was one, I had hope that I wasn't too late. Tears streamed down as I buried my face in his cold chest. “Please come back.” I cried

“You dare bring a blood elf onto these lands?” The sentries that guard the gates noticed me and were drawing weapons. In my haste, I failed to register that Lucien, and hell even Tamlin, could be mistaken for a Blood elf, enemies of the Night elves, I just brought us to the place I called home for many years. While Night elf skin is more cool toned, they are associated with greens, blues and purples, Blood elf skin is more warm toned associated with red, yellows and oranges.

“He's not a blood elf.” I snapped as I pulled the dagger out of his back, immediately putting pressure on the open wound. Please leave me alone, this is already traumatic enough. “Lucien,” I looked toward the graveyard, “come back to your body.” Fuck, this has to work. It worked for me the first time I died.

“Get out of here or we will kill you too, traitor.”

Just then a familiar purple raven with dark sigils designed on its feathers nose dived straight for us. As he neared, he shifted back into an elf and positioned himself between me and the guards. “Leave the lady be, I will take it from here.” The guards bowed and returned to their stations.

“Thorin,” I breathed, happy to see him. “Can you resurrect him?” Thorin was a good friend of mine during my time in Azeroth that I, occasionally, had sex with. We had risen to King and Queen together before I left him to move onto the next adventure. He looked like the closest version of Tamlin a Night elf could be, long blonde hair, glowing fully green eyes, impeccable figure. What can I say? I have a type. Also, he was a druid, and druids could heal and resurrect.

“I will give it my best effort.” He began his spell and it stopped. My heart sank until Thorin spoke again “the motherfucker is still holding on.” There is too much blood, there is no way. Thorin shot a healing blast straight into Lucien's chest and Lucien woke up, inhaling heavily. The blast speeds up the healing process to almost instant.

“Where am I? What's going on?” Lucien asked, trying and failing to jump up as my arms were still around him.

“You're fine, this is Darnassus, I lived here for many years and this is my friend, Thorin. He saved your life.” I explained gently. There was still a lot of fear in Lucien's eyes as he took in his surroundings and the elf that stood before him. The vibrant purple sky and soft green moss resembled a healthy mix of the scenery in Night and Spring, while the massive trees surrounding us added a flair of Autumn. I turned to Thorin “thank you, your timing was amazing. I would love to stay and catch up but we really need to get back.”

He bowed his head slightly, “the pleasure is mine, I'm glad I heard you when I did. Don't be a stranger, come back and see us when life settles down for you.” He bent over to give me a kiss on the forehead and he shifted back into his raven form and was off.

I whispered to Lucien “we should get back before Tamlin destroys the manor again.”

“That's a terribly dark joke,” he laughed, still resting in my arms, head back and eyes closed, “I won't tell him you said that and we will be even.”

“Fair,” I giggled as we fell back through a portal home.

Tamlin was pacing just outside the manor as we returned, dashing over to us the second his gaze met mine. I held Lucien still, one arm supporting his neck, the other under his knees. “Walking is going to be painful for a day or two due to where the knife was, but he should make a full recovery.” I said as I passed him off to Tamlin. “Help him out of his bloodied clothes and into bed.”

Tamlin looked down at Lucien, still trailing in and out of consciousness, “He's alive? What happened? Where did you go?”

“Yes, my ex revived him, and Darnassus.” He knew when I kept my answers short like this, to not press further. “I am going to bathe this blood off me, and I just got this dress too, damnit Rhysand, always starting shit, just leave us alone….” I complained out loud as I walked away. I assume Tamlin did as I asked, I did my part, and I am tired.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

I woke up the next morning, threw on one of my new dresses and headed to Lucien's room. I knocked “Lucien? Can I come in?”

“Come in,” I opened the door slowly and peeked in. He tried to get up, and I stopped him, sitting on the edge of his bed by his side.

“How are you feeling?”

“Groggy, weak.” He muttered, annoyed.

“That's to be expected, you died yesterday.” I reassured him softly. “I am truly sorry for what my brother did–”

��Don't pity me.” He snapped harshly, avoiding eye contact.

“Hah, this is far from pity. I am terrified of you. That much blood? For how long you held on? You are a tough one that's for sure, remind me to never get on your bad side.” I laughed and he tried to hide the smile forming on his lips. He was still holding onto that anger.

“Why? Why save me, you barely knew me?” He accused.

“Because you matter.” My tone was flat. My intention was not to flatter him, but to actually convince him. “Your value does not reside in how you can be of use to me, Lucien. You do not need to suffer for me to see you as a person whose right to life I respect.” His glare softened slightly, seeming to almost believe me. “What would you like for breakfast? I'll bring it up to you.”

“Just some fruit and maybe some water would be nice.” He whispered.

“Okay, I'll be right back” I pushed his hair out of his face and gave him a kiss on the forehead. “Door, open or shut?”

“You can leave it cracked.”

I returned moments later with a tray of mixed fruit and a couple glasses of water. He sat up as I placed the tray on his lap, sitting down next to him. “What happened when you returned to Night?”

Lucien sighed. “Rhysand initially sent me, ordered me, here to convince you to come back with me. I have been at his mercy since leaving Spring, and he figured the curse you put on him wouldn't apply to me since you didn't know of me. What I didn't expect was to return to a rebuilt manor and a Tamlin that not only welcomed me back with open arms, but also an apology. Spring has always been my home, until it wasn't, but after the day I spent with you and him, I felt like I got it back. I returned to Night to tell him that you had no interest in returning and I wouldn't be the one to force you. And, well, your brother doesn't like to be told he can't have what he wants.”

“If you had truly come to Spring with the intention of harm at my brother's behest, the curse would, most definitely, apply to you.” I clarified. “I don't believe you have it in your heart to ever really betray Tamlin.”

“I didn't, and even now it looks as though I owe Spring another life debt.” Lucien sighed.

“You owe me nothing, Lucien. I am not keeping score. That dagger was buried in your back because you stood up for me. You did the right thing and risked your life for someone you barely knew,” I reassured. “I would like to request that you stay here, or at least stay away from the Night court entirely. They believe you to be dead, and we can use that to our advantage later.” A small lie, but Lucien is too proud for his own good, so I knew I had a better chance of convincing him if he thought it to be strategy instead of worry.

“I understand, I would like to remain here, at least until I regain my strength, but I don't want to be treated like a fragile child.” Lucien pressed.

“That is fair, and while I do not, could not, see you as a child in any capacity, I can understand that my kindness may translate that way at times. Just let me know when it is too much and I will back off. Deal?”

“Deal.” He sighed.

I bid him farewell and left the room to allow him to rest. Tamlin was waiting out in the hall.

“How's he doing?”

“Better, he should be well enough to join us for dinner. But I fear I may have to face my brother sooner than I wanted to. It looks like he is going to keep leaving us these grotesque gifts until I hear him out.” I replied calmly as we made our way to the kitchen.

“I don't like the idea of you going there alone. I will be worried sick the entire time. Everyone I care about that has left for Night, has come back in pieces.” Tamlin admitted sternly.

“I need you to trust that I will be fine. His wards have no effect on my portals, no one in Prythia has any understanding of how they work or how to hinder them. I am no longer affected by ash or bloodbane. I will be okay. I promise. I need you here.”

“That's not going to stop me from worrying. Someone needs to protect you.”

I stopped walking and he turned to me. I relaxed the tension I held in my shoulders and looked up at him with a pout on my lips. I knew damn well I was powerful enough to take every High Lord in Prythia with one hand tied behind my back after taking six shots of pure bloodbane. But, I didn't have to fight anymore. I wouldn't have to. He wanted to protect me. Someone wanted to keep me safe. This is all I've wanted. He pulled me into his chest and I whispered, “Then come with me.”

Tag list: @ladythornofrivia @rcarbo1 @rin-u-pos @knoxic @lilah-asteria

#pro tamlin #tamlin x reader #tamlin x you #tamlin x oc #acotar fanfic #anti rhysand fanfic #anti rhysand #lucien #lucien vanserra #pro lucien vanserra #pro lucien #tamlin fanfiction #tamlin fanfic

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belovedmusings · 1 year ago

Text

More than I dare to think about.

Choso Kamo x You x Suguru Geto

Explicit Smut 18+ 🚫Minors DNI🚫

Part two of the ‘Two + One’ story. Click for story masterlist.

Guitarist! Choso Kamo is your boyfriend, and you’ve been together for a year. He recently left his previous band and has been looking to join a new one, so when he has an audition with a local up and coming one, you accompany him to give him support. That’s where you meet the band’s Bassist, Suguru Geto. The mutual attraction is immediate—but you love your boyfriend, and you resolve to keep your desires for Suguru suppressed, even as Choso is accepted into the bad. The question is, can Suguru stay away from you?

Relevant tags: sexual tension, love triangle, slow burn, thoughts of infidelity, guilt, unprotected sex, mild choking, masturbation, shy and nervous Choso, Choso is a sweetheart as always, Suguru is a quiet and confident flirt, both men are charming as hell, you are addressed without the usage of “y/n”, AFAB reader with minimal usage of gendered language, reader has no defining characteristics for realism & inclusivity

Recommended songs to listen to while reading: Can’t Get You out of My Head (Kylie Minogue), …baby one more time (The Marias), In Your Eyes (The Weeknd)

A/N: part two is out!! I hope you enjoy more angsty mutual pining and deepened sexual tension.

Read below cut:

For two weeks after the temporary lapse in judgment that caused you to have a voyeuristic quickie in your car, things have returned to normal. Well, on the surface, anyway. Choso is with the band five days a week, rehearsing and also writing and recording new music. You haven’t been back to Suguru’s house, but despite that, you can’t seem to get him out of your head.

You hadn’t known Suguru was the frontman of Curse Manipulator. You’d never even seen any of the band members prior to meeting them—they were just word-of-mouth stars on the local level. Friends told friends about them, shared their music, and that’s how you and Choso had found a few of their songs that you both like.

With Choso busy with the band, you’re left to your own devices a lot. Curiosity gets the better of you quickly and you deep-dive Curse Manipulator’s discography. Their music is a perfect blend of alternative rock and a plethora of other styles on top—it’s unique and genuinely really good. The lyrics are great, too. Deep and meaningful, loaded with allusions to other works of literature and art that speaks to a writer who is intelligent and well-read.

Once again, curiosity gets the best of you, and you end up searching more about the band on the internet. You find out that Suguru is the genius behind the lyrics as well, having written most of the songs himself.

So, you torture yourself by listening to his beautiful, thick, and warm voice singing pure poetry into your ears. It makes you think of him, of his face, his piercings, his eyes, his hair, his tattoos, his hands, his body—

He’s possessed your mind completely.

It seems like you’re horny all of the time now, which never used to be the case. You and Choso had a very healthy and normal sex life before all of this, but now, you’re on him every single night. You spend the entire day fantasizing about Suguru. You dream about him taking you on every surface in your place. You imagine his head buried between your thighs, and then you envision yourself on your knees in front of him, mouth stuffed full of his cock. You know he’d have all of the control, and you would love it. Your pleasure would be his to manipulate.

You’re so hot and bothered by the time Choso comes home that you often try to initiate right when he walks in. He greets you happily, but insists he wants to shower and eat first before sex to wind down.

You let him, but secretly you don’t want him to wind down. You want him wound up tight, so tight that he takes all of the day’s stress out on you.

Choso has never been rough with you in bed. He doesn’t even often take control, though power dynamics as a whole generally stay out of the bedroom. He likes whatever you like, and enjoys whatever you give him.

When you’re fucking him, you can’t help but wish sometimes that he’d go harder. You want him to hold you down, to pound you into the mattress, to put his hands around your neck and hold them there until you tap on his arm for air. You want him to manhandle you into whatever position he wants, to fuck your face, to just take from you. But he doesn’t. He can’t. He loves you too much to even think of treating you that way.

You know that Suguru could do all of those things to you. He would use the strength of his big arms to keep you pinned beneath him while he ruins you from the inside. He’d keep going even if you begged for mercy, pushing you past your limits, controlling your body like it’s nothing but a marionette. He’d pull all of the right strings.

You know he would look and sound beautiful while doing it. You want to see him with no clothes on, with all of his tattoos on display, his hair down from its tie so that it spills over his broad shoulders. He’d groan, pant in exertion, praise or degrade you—it wouldn’t matter. You’d have him.

Today, Choso is at Suguru’s house working with the band, so you’re alone at home again. You could have gone to watch but Suguru would be there and you don’t think that after what happened last time you’d be able to maintain your sanity around him.

As you sit on the couch in the living room, your thoughts drift to Suguru. You think of his flawless face, of the piercings framing his bottom lip, and of the stud in the center of his tongue.

Just the mere memory of his damned tongue piercing is enough to have a wave of heat crash into you. You lay your head in your hand—Suguru is truly making you lose your mind.

You can’t stop your mind from continuing to follow the thoughts of him. You’re reminded of the look in his eyes when he watched you ride your boyfriend. Not at all flustered or embarrassed that he was caught staring. Just watching with a smirk like he has the biggest dick in the world. Fuck. You mean, just look at him, the way he carries himself, the way he talks, of course he’s big.

You’ve never acted like this before. Size never really mattered to you. Choso is well-endowed and he satisfies you well enough.

Well enough?

You hadn’t thought about it. He’s great in bed, always eager to please—but maybe that’s just it. You usually lead. Sometimes he’s a little bit more on the initiative side but he never ever just takes from you. You long to just give someone all of the control for once, to lay there and take whatever he feels like giving you, to be pushed to your limits.

Choso is too much of a sweetheart to do that to you. You know he respects and thinks too highly of you to treat you like that.

Suguru, on the other hand…

Fuck.

He would just make you take it. He’d hold you down with all of his strength, manhandle you into whatever position he feels like, do whatever he wants to you.

That sinful tongue comes back to mind.

He could just throw you onto the nearest surface and push your legs apart. He could even rip your underwear to shreds and you wouldn’t even care—he can do anything he wants to you.

You feel yourself getting wet, shifting on the couch. You know you shouldn’t feed into these desires, but now that the thoughts have started you can’t turn them off. Maybe if you got off to the thoughts of him, you’d have a clearer head.

You might just be making excuses so that you can have this, but regardless of your reasoning, your hand is already dipping below both of your waistbands, finding the slick warmth beneath quickly.

What if Suguru was with you right now? What if somehow the two of you were alone together? What would Suguru do?

Maybe he would grab you by the legs, push them open, and get on his knees. You’re wearing loose shorts today. What if he just moved the fabric aside and started giving you head, right there in the living room?

You bite your lip as your touches simulate the imagined movement of his mouth, envisioning his beautiful face between your thighs, lazily confident eyes boring into yours with something dark and wild, pink tongue flicking up and down your neediest spot. He wouldn’t look away. He’d want you to watch him. He’d want to put on a show for you, to give you pleasure not only by sensation but by sight as well.

You moan in your throat as the thought gets you even wetter, speeding up your touches.

He’d rub his silver stud right against that swollen pearl, and maybe he’d smirk when he sees what that does to you. He has to know what it does to you, god does it fuck you up?

You want him to fuck you up. You so do, you need him like you’ve never needed anyone before. Maybe it’s because you can’t have him, but the desperation you feel for Suguru is so severe it’s like the sky will come crashing down if you don’t get him.

Maybe he’d even start to finger you as he eats you out. He’d make you take two at once, two of those thick, long fingers, calloused and rough from his playing, covered in his rings. You’d feel the contours of the metal inside of you—

“Fuck,” you hiss, already nearing your peak. It’s been a while since you orgasmed this quickly. The only other time was when you’d jumped your boyfriend outside of Suguru’s house, when you were looking right at him and he was looking at you while you rode Choso, eyes dark against the dim streetlight.

It wasn’t completely just your boyfriend that had made you cum that night. It was Suguru, too. His presence, his gaze on you, the feeling of his lust even from far away. You know he wants you. He couldn’t look away, either. He’s interested.

You want him to do as he pleases with you. To eat you out until you cry, maybe even to devour you whole. You don’t care, you’d even give your very fucking soul to him.

You grip a pillow beside you with your free hand as you imagine him fucking his fingers in and out of you at a rough pace, not caring if it’s too much too fast, his pretty mouth covered in your essence, working over your mound like it’s his last meal. He’d have your legs spread wide, wanting as much space as he can get, entire head moving along with his mouth in effort to get you to cum. You’d pull his hair out of its tie and let it spill over his face, gripping it in your hands, unable to look away.

He’d press wet kisses to your swollen bud, tell you how good it tastes, curl his fingers up just right as he flattens his tongue and licks with force—

“Oh fuck, Suguru!” You gasp as it hits you, climax causing you to cease up. Your eyes shut as you imagine him continuing through it, overstimulating you until you can’t take it anymore. Maybe he’d keep going. He’d force another out of you. And another after that. Maybe he’d even make you cry from it.

Your mind is reeling with even more lewd possibilities and you sigh heavily as you try to calm down.

Suguru is a very very bad idea. But you can’t get him out of your head.

At the very least, you force yourself not to fantasize about him while you’re having sex with Choso. Your love for him doesn’t waver in the slightest. Though you wish he’d be rougher, you never resent him for it. He treats you like you’re precious, to be given only the utmost care, and you wouldn’t trade him for the world. The thoughts of Suguru are for when you’re alone, and only when you’re alone.

You ask him one night to choke you during sex, and the request has him completely flustered. He agrees after some convincing, so he wraps his hand around your neck and applies pressure.

You moan out immediately, tightening around him. “Yes, baby, just like that.”

“It’s not too hard?” He asks you worriedly, pace on his hips slowing. You nod.

“It’s fine, baby,” you confirm, trying to get him to go harder, to test rather than ask what your limits are. He watches your face for any sign of discomfort, his pace slowing down even more.

“Harder,” you encourage, “Keep fucking me, Chos’.”

He swallows thickly and puts more power back into his thrusts, keeping his hand around your neck. You nod, eyes fluttering shut.

“Yes, yes…more…”

His hand squeezes a little harder and it gets difficult to breathe. Your eyes flutter shut, pleasure overwhelming you as you’re forced to feel only that—

“I can’t—I don’t want to hurt you,” he draws his hand back, air suddenly filling your lungs again, and he frowns at you. “I’m sorry, I just…I don’t think I like that.”

He’s still now, and you realize you pushed him too far. He has a guilty look written all over his face and it crushes you.

“No,” you shake your head, reaching up and cupping his face, pulling him down so you can kiss his cheek. “No, you did nothing wrong. I got carried away. I’m sorry.”

“I want to make you feel good.”

“You do,” you tell him, feeling shitty for making him feel like he’s not doing enough. “I just wanted to try something, baby. We won’t do it again.”

He sighs heavily, turning his face to kiss your lips. “Thank you. I love you.”

“I love you too,” you murmur, pecking his mouth again. Slowly, the two of you get back into a rhythm with some coaxing.

The two of you finish a few minutes later and after you’ve cleaned up and gotten back in bed, Choso kisses your forehead as he pulls you to lay on his chest.

As he hugs you tightly, you can’t shake the dull pang in your chest that cemented itself after you went too far with him. You can’t sleep like this.

“I should’ve talked to you about it beforehand,” you begin, searching for the words. “I know you like when I squeeze your neck a little but I shouldn’t have assumed you’d like doing it to me.”

He sighs above you, hand rubbing up and down your arm. “I’m just aware of how much stronger than you I am. I don’t want to lose control and hurt you by accident. I'd rather you be the one with my life in your hands than the other way around.”

The poetry of that statement warms your heart. He’s the sweetest man you’ve ever known. It brings a smile to your face as you balance yourself up on your elbow to look into his eyes.

“You’re always so caring,” you say, taking in his gorgeous face, glimmering with a thin sheen of sweat. “What did I do to deserve you?”

He smiles softly, huffing with a laugh. “You’re just you. I had a crush on you for the longest time, and even now the fact that you still want me—you just make me so happy.”

You shake your head with a grin, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he chuckles, wrapping you back up in his arms as you settle on his chest. There is a period of silence before he speaks again. “You know, there’s that new horror movie that’s out in theaters. Do you want to see it together tomorrow?”

It has been a while since you went on a proper date with him. He’s been so busy with the band—but isn’t he busy tomorrow as well?

“That sounds fun. But I thought you have band rehearsal. And we can’t go before ‘cause I’m seeing my friend tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I do, but we can just go after,” he replies, “How about I drive myself to practice, and you have your friend drop you off at Suguru’s place? It’s closer to downtown anyway—that would work, right?”

An involuntary sharp breath that you have to cover up with a simple shift to get more comfortable overtakes you. You haven’t been to Suguru’s house since you met him, and the thought of seeing him again makes you both nervous and thrilled. You don’t think being around him is a good idea but Choso’s plan makes too much sense for you to dispel it. Besides, maybe you can just go in, greet him quickly, and then leave. It should be fine.

“Yeah,” you finally agree. “That works.”

“Then it’s a date,” there’s a smile in his smooth voice and you press a kiss to his sternum in response, letting his heartbeat lull you to sleep as you try not to think about who you’re going to be seeing tomorrow.

It takes a while, but eventually, you fall asleep.

—

You’re on the doorstep of Suguru’s house after having just parted ways with your friend for the day. Seeing as you had a day out and are about to go on a date, you made yourself look a little bit more done-up than you would on a usual day, and you keep trying to stifle the little voice in your head that says I hope Suguru notices.

Taking a deep breath, you text your boyfriend to let him know you’re there. A minute later, the door is opening to reveal Miguel.

“Hey,” he greets with a casual grin. “Choso said you’d be coming. Come on in, make yourself at home. We’ll be done in a bit.”

“Thanks,” you smile, entering the house and taking off your shoes. “Do you mind if I just wait in the living room?”

“Not at all, Suguru told me to tell you his house was your house,” Miguel shrugs. “Hell, make some tea if you want. He’s chill with anything.”

You laugh breathily. “Okay, cool.”

“We’re in the middle of recording Choso’s backing vocals so he’ll be out in a little.”

“Okay, it’s no problem,” you say, and with that, Miguel walks up the hallway to where the recording studio is.

Just like that, you’re left alone in Suguru’s house. It looks just as stylish and serene as it did the last time, and you have to admit he has really good taste. You sigh, considering your options. You could just sit on the couch and wait, but that might give you a free-pass to start ruminating on all the ways Suguru could make you his on the surfaces of his furniture.

You blink. Nope, not a good option. You feel like making tea is overstepping, but maybe getting a glass of water would do you some good. It’ll give you something to do, anyway. You figure you’ll try it.

You pad to the left where the kitchen is, realizing you don’t know where anything is. You debate giving up and just going to sit, but curiosity gets the better of you. This is Suguru’s kitchen—you want to snoop a little bit, just innocently, to see if there’s any quirks hidden in the items he has.

You make your way to the counter and open the first drawer, finding silverware. Basic silver spoons and forks, sleek black chopsticks, and pretty porcelain chirenge spoons. You smile to yourself at the white and black design—even the small things have a touch of his aesthetic to them.

You close the drawer and decide that the glasses are probably in a cabinet above the counter, so you take a look at them. That’s when you notice that the black wooden doors reach all the way up to the high ceiling. You hum, deciding to open the first one. The first shelf has bowls and plates, and the second one has mugs. No glasses.

You move on to the next one and open it, seeing bigger bowls on the first shelf and glasses on the second. But that's just it—there is a large space between the first and the second shelves.

The cabinets in this place are ridiculous. Why are all of the cups placed so high? You can’t even hope to reach them. You’d take any glass, the one on the very edge seems easiest to get, but even that seems impossible.

You extend your arm up futilely, rolling your eyes at your own bright idea. You look around, searching for any kind of stool to use. Your eyes only find the counter and internally, you sigh. The counter is what it’s going to have to be.

You raise your leg to start climbing up when a familiar deep voice stops you in your tracks.

“Need some help?” Suguru.

Your heart jumps into your throat and you turn your head to look at him. Your mouth goes dry.

Today, he has his hair completely down, layers falling around his chin and over his shoulders effortlessly. There’s a bar in his right ear that you hadn’t seen when you met him, hair tucked behind his ear, and the rest of his piercings lay on his face like constellations. He smiles at you warmly, showing off perfect, straight teeth, and the flutter it gives your heart is almost violent.

“Uh, yeah,” you force yourself to talk like a normal person, “I-I wanted to get some water—Miguel told me I could. Can’t reach the cups.”

“These cabinets are ridiculous, huh?” He asks with a grin, leaning against the counter beside you.

“Yeah,” you agree, still trying to school your body’s reaction so he doesn’t see how weak in the knees he’s making you feel.

“I’ll get one for you. Which one caught your eye?”

You look up and point to the one closest to the edge of the shelf. He makes a move and before you can step out of the way, he’s reaching over you.

By doing so, the entire expanse of his body presses into you from behind, sandwiching you between him and the counter as he stretches for the glass. His body is firm and warm. Like this, you can smell his cologne, a smoky jasmine, and you swear your mind turns into mush then and there. You suck in a breath, leaning your hands on the cool marble for support and maybe for mental purchase too.

He grabs the cup, and as he’s bringing it down, he backs up to where he’d been standing beside you before. You feel like you might faint. You just felt his entire frame pressing against you. You even felt the print of his dick through his black sweatpants against your hip—fuck, your mind is going haywire. Your knees are going to give out at any moment. Holy shit.

“You’re a little dressed up today, aren’t you?” He asks, still holding the glass in his hand. He hasn’t offered it to you yet, like he’s making you wait for it. God.

“Oh, yeah,” you manage, doing your best to retain normalcy. “Yeah, uh, Choso and I are going to see a movie after this.”

“Oh, really? What movie?”

“It’s that new horror one—we like scary movies.”

Suguru nods, humming. “How long have you been together?”

You shift just to give yourself something to do. “Uh, coming up on a year now.”

“Really?” He asks, an appraising face on his features. “You seem happy with him.”

Your lips part. What sort of reply is he looking for here? And why do you feel…guilty agreeing with that statement?

“Yeah,” you say, “He’s great. We’re happy.”

“Choso is a lucky man. You’re beautiful.”

If you felt near-faint then, now you feel near-death.

Suguru just called you beautiful. He didn’t say ‘you look beautiful’, he said ‘you are beautiful’. Oh god, you’re going to run wild with that when you’re alone with your thoughts again. Right now you aren’t.

You’re alone with Suguru.

“Oh,” you exhale, a small smile stretching over your lips. You avert your eyes to the side, to where his hand still holds the glass. Like this, it’s like he’s holding you captive for a conversation. You like it. “Thanks.”

“Was that too bold? You’ll have to forgive me,” he tells you, and when you look at him again, he’s smiling sheepishly. God, he’s so gorgeous. The white t-shirt he’s wearing today hugs his muscles perfectly and shows a bit of his tattoos through the fabric—wait, are those piercings in the centers of his pecs? Fuck. Where else is pierced?

Shit, he can see you checking him out. Focus.

“No, it’s…don’t worry about it,” you say, and he sobers up, suddenly turning more serious.

“You know…I wanted to say that I’m sorry for that night. I know you saw me,” his voice is low, and you realize with a shock that he’s talking about you and Choso in the car. “It was wrong to watch. I intruded. I…I’m not usually like that at all.”

You swallow thickly. Words. Find words. “I…well…I mean, it was my bad…we were outside of your house. It was wrong of me to want to then and there. He’s not at fault.”

“You started it?”

Your eyes lock with his. “I did.”

“Do you do that a lot?”

This conversation is treading into dangerous territory and it’s absolutely thrilling you.

“That was the first time.”

“Why?”

You inhale slowly. It was because of you. I want you and I know I shouldn’t, so I took it out on him. You can’t tell him the truth, but you feel like he can see it in your eyes. You can’t lie, either. Fuck.

“I could’ve stopped once I saw you watching,” you choose to say, an indirect answer, and his dark eyes flicker with something you’re instantly drawn to.

“You kept going.”

“I did.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “Are you…usually like that?”

Voyeuristic? Horny? Impatient? Risky? Slutty?

“No,” you answer, “Something came over me.”

His lips pull into a smirk, and he steps closer to you. The glass slides along the countertop with his movement. “Something? What did?”

He’s so close you can smell his cologne again. It makes you almost dizzy. The distance between you two is less than respectable now.

“Hmm?”

Oh. You haven’t given him an answer and he expects one. You can’t divulge fully. It would be wrong. You have a boyfriend…where is he? Still in the studio, probably. But Suguru needs some kind of answer. You decide to be vague.

“Thoughts.”

The teasing expression widens, and he reaches up, laying his fingers gently on your cheek. His thumb brushes your lower lip.

His touch lights an instant fire inside of you. You feel hot all over and it’s almost like there is electricity scattering between you two like a power surge. Your heart rate picks up even more.

“Thoughts? Of…?” He prompts, voice dipping even lower, to just above a whisper. It sends a shiver down your spine. It’s like he commands the truth out of you.

“Of you.”

His honey-colored eyes spark to life. “What kind of thoughts about me?”

Oh god, oh god, he’s so close and you want him so badly. You’re itching to just grab him and kiss him then and there.

He seems to share your sentiments because he leans in, nose brushing against yours. You can feel his breath on your Cupid’s bow, eyelids fluttering shut automatically.

“Tell me,” he whispers above your mouth, and you breathe out shakily, trying to find the words but all of them have left you high and dry to deal with Suguru alone. Your lips move to form some form of answer, or maybe to close the short distance to feel his mouth on yours—

“Baby?”

Choso’s voice ringing from up the hallway shocks you both back into reality.

Suguru is off of you faster than a wisp of wind, backing up and putting an appropriate amount of distance between the two of you. You feel like ice water has just been dumped over you.

“We’re in the kitchen!” Suguru answers for you, seeing how flustered you are.

Choso rounds the corner and a soft smile appears on his face. “Hey.”

At the sight of his sweet face, remorse floods your body like a tidal wave. You almost kissed Suguru. And before that, you were flirting with him. Behind the back of your precious, loyal boyfriend.

You shouldn’t have come here. You can’t control yourself around Suguru and you almost did something you would have regretted after the fact.

Choso looks at you in concern. “Baby? What’s wrong?”

Say something to him. “Oh, oh—nothing. Just,” excuse, excuse, excuse, “I just feel bad for interrupting your recording session. I got done sooner than I thought and figured I’d come early.”

“Oh,” he smiles in relief, shaking his head. “No, no, it’s fine.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” Suguru adds, grabbing your attention again. He gives you a smile, but his eyes are muddled, swarming with millions of indiscernible thoughts. “We could take five anyway. I figured since I was on the way back from a smoke I’d say ‘hi’.”

You force yourself to breathe slower. Having them both here in the room with you is overwhelming you. Two of the most beautiful men on Earth, their attention solely on you, the angel that you were blessed with and the demon tempting you away.

“Thank you for being so welcoming,” you say, regaining your composure. “I know I’m still a stranger.”

“My house is your house,” Suguru furrows his brow as if to say ‘nonsense’. “You’re welcome any time.”

Choso moves over to you and slings an arm around your waist. You lean into his touch, the smell of his cedarwood cologne familiar and grounding.

“You look amazing,” Choso tells you with a dopey smile, like a teenager with a crush, one that fills you with warmth. He presses a kiss to your cheek, and under the watchful eyes of Suguru, you feel bashful.

That doesn’t add up. Especially when he watched the two of you fuck the last time he saw you.

You meet his eyes, which are boring into your face. You can’t tell what he’s thinking but you can guess by the tight expression on his features. He clenches his jaw for a second before fixing his demeanor.

“Well, I’ll give you two a minute while the break lasts. You’re welcome to come watch him record,” Suguru tells you, and with that, he exits the room, leaving the glass alone on the counter.

As soon as you feel his presence exit, you relax minutely.

Choso turns his face to plant a kiss on your lips, hugging you tightly. “I think I scared him away. I can’t help it—can’t keep my hands off of you.”

The two of them are going to give you whiplash. How can you possibly stand this?

Your hand finds his chest and you look into his eyes, butterflies stirring up in your stomach. The completely infatuated look in his eyes is easy to read. He’s so in love with you and it’s written all over his face. With the way he’s gazing at you now, you wouldn’t question it if he got down on his knees and kissed the ground you walked on.

You touch his jaw and plant a kiss of your own on his lips. “I’ll never complain about your affection.”

He smiles. “I’ll never stop giving it to you.”

You stroke his cheekbone with your thumb. This man is perfect in every way. You wouldn’t trade him for the world. You know that no matter what happens, your feelings for him could never waver. “I’ll never stop loving you.”

The bridge of his nose pinkens underneath the black line of his tattoo. “Well, I’ll never stop loving you, either.”

That warrants another kiss. This time, it’s deeper and it makes your heart pound just like it had the very first time you did all of those months ago.

When you pull back, you’re both slightly breathless, and he grins shyly at you. “Come on, we should get back. I don’t want someone to come looking and catch us making out in Suguru’s kitchen.”

You laugh softly, nodding your head to turn out of the embrace and grab his hand instead. “You’re right. We have a movie to catch soon.”

He squeezes your palm and leads you out of the kitchen, the glass of water you’d originally tried getting slipping your mind completely.

When you and Choso enter the recording studio, Suguru is at the mixing board while Miguel experiments on one of his keyboards against the wall, Larue laying across the couch.

“Hey,” Larue waves at you, and you wave back.

“Hi.”

“Perfect timing. I think I have a good balance going for the vocals,” Suguru says, turning towards the two of you. “I want to record you doing a lower harmony than the one we did for another layer, because I like how your voice sounds in the background. Think you can?”

Choso nods, pulling away from you to walk towards the door of the soundproof-booth.

“Yeah, sounds good.”

He enters the small room, closing the door behind himself. You start walking towards one of the empty chairs to sit, but then Suguru calls your name.

Just the sound of it in the contours of his voice is enough to stop you in your tracks.

You turn around, and he’s holding the chair beside himself open. “Come sit here. Watch your boyfriend make magic with me.”

That makes your insides twist with heat.

“Okay,” you say, sauntering over to the open seat and lowering yourself into it, right beside Suguru. Your eyes scatter over all of the dials, notches, and buttons before you. It looks sort of like an airplane control panel, you think. So many different knobs.

“It’s not as complicated as it looks,” he smiles easily, “I’ll show you while he sings.”

You nod smally, laughing softly. “Okay.”

His eyes linger on you for a bit longer before he turns to the small microphone on the desk, pressing a red button near him.

“Okay, Choso,” he begins, and you look at your boyfriend, who dons headphones and is poised in front of a microphone with a pop-filter. He has his own set-up in the extra room at your place, and he’s explained the basic components, but this place is definitely professional-grade. Even the headphones look expensive. “I want it a third lower than the last take. Like this.”

You aren’t prepared to hear Suguru start singing right beside you.

You’ve heard him sing before, it’s a well-kept secret between you and any deities invested in your drama that you’ve probably made the curve of Curse Manipulator’s streams spike up an embarrassing amount. Lately it’s all you play.

Even still, to hear his buttery vocals ring out right beside you in person is almost an entirely new experience.

When he finishes, you feel like you can finally breathe again. He takes his finger off of the button, and you hear Choso’s voice through the speakers, repeating the harmony you just heard but in his smoky, breathy voice instead. You’re melting. Holy shit.

Your eyes meet his through the glass and he smiles, raising his brows as if to ask ‘how was it?’ and you nod, mirroring his grin.

“Sounds great. Okay, I’ll play the track.”

Suguru moves the playhead of the program on his computer with the mouse near his hand, clicks it back, and presses the ‘space’ bar on his keyboard.

Music flows through the speakers, a bass-heavy track with a really slow yet catchy beat, and the first thing you hear is Suguru’s recorded vocals before harmonies hit and Choso starts to sing under them.

The two of their voices blended together sends you right to heaven. At that moment, you find god. It’s a religious experience. Lyrics about love and desire, dark and poetic ride the contours of the beautiful sounds gracing your ears.

“He’s great, isn’t he?” Asks Suguru, and you nod, unable to find a verbal reply. You’re in awe. “How’s the song sounding?”

“It’s…I mean, it’s amazing,” you reply. It’s a song about wanting what one can’t have. You think it fits your situation a little to well, because jealousy and anguish is laced into the mix also. “I like it.”

“Yeah?” Suguru smiles at you. “I wrote it last week. I can’t get it out of my head—so it’s come to life pretty fast.”

Last week. Forbidden feelings…could it be…?

“I’ve just been feeling so inspired,” he continues, and you see that same look in his eyes. You know exactly what—no, who, rather—the song is about, and you take a deep breath.

“I love it.”

The thought of being Suguru's muse goes right to your head. This talented, walking god was inspired by you?

He flashes you a grin, looking almost rewarded, and he turns back to Choso, who is finishing up his last line. Suguru hits the ‘space’ again and the music pauses. He holds down the red button again.

“That sounded great. I’ll have you do it again just for doubles. Sound good?”

“Sounds good.”

Just as he did before, Suguru moves the playhead back to the beginning of the section and presses ‘play’. The same part of the song starts playing, and Choso begins to sing again.

“So,” Suguru speaks. “You see all these dials? See how they’re lined up in columns?”

You direct your attention to the board again. “Yeah.”

“Each column is for a different track,” he explains, pointing to the screen at the top row. “That’s the main vocal, my voice. It corresponds to this first column.”

He points to the left-most section on the board.

“Then you just go down the line. The next row is the next column, and so on. These dials control things like ‘panning’, so it moves the sound to the right,” he turns it accordingly, moving his voice to the right speaker only, “or to the left.”

He does it the other way before turning it back to the middle.

“The switch here is for volume. Up is louder, and down is quieter,” he says. “And that’s pretty much it. Not so bad, right?”

You nod, looking at the mixing board again. Suddenly, it really does seem less imposing.

“Yeah, actually.”

What else could he teach you?

You internally slap your forehead as soon as that thought hits you. Calm down, you tell yourself.

“Glad I could show you something,” Suguru is saying to you as he hits the ‘pause’ and starts speaking to Choso again. All you can think about is ‘you could show me a lot of things’, and then right after, ‘damn it, control yourself’. It’s a loop on repeat, over and over, lust and then berating self-awareness.

The next thing you know, Choso is coming out of the booth.

“All right, are you ready?” He asks you, and it’s then that you realize he and Suguru probably just finished up while you were having a small-scale mental breakdown.

“Oh, yeah,” you say, eager to leave yet reluctant to part ways with Suguru. You like being next to him. You like when he talks to you, his attention on you. But that’s bad. You need to go, and ideally never come back to prevent a mistake.

You stand up and walk over to Choso, taking his hand.

“I’ll see you guys on Monday,” Choso says, and Larue and Miguel reply in kind. You wave as well, and Suguru stands.

“I’ll see you guys out.”

The entire walk down the hallway feels like ten years. Suguru walks behind you and Choso, and you wonder what he’s thinking. Choso is completely oblivious to what had happened earlier, to how close you came to cheating on him.

You frown. That isn’t a pretty thought, but it’s the truth. You almost let Suguru take everything you’ve built with Choso away in the matter of a few seconds. What is going on with you?

You get to the door and start putting your shoes on, forcing the thoughts back. You didn’t do anything. Everything is fine.

“Great job today,” Suguru says, “I think this track’ll sound awesome. That gig we have coming up at the end of the month is a perfect time to debut it, don’t you think? An exclusive before we drop it.”

“Yeah, I think it would be great,” agrees your boyfriend. “It’s coming together really well.”

“I agree,” Suguru replies as you stand back up. He turns his attention to you. “What did you think of it all? Pretty cool to watch it come to life, right?”

Your smile is partially forced. He’s troubling the hell out of your thoughts and you can’t seem to stop wanting him. “It’s sounding great. I can’t wait until it comes out. Thanks for letting me hear it beforehand.”

“Oh, it’s no problem. You have special access,” he says, leaning against his wall. “I’m glad you came by. Your presence is always welcome.”

And that right there is the problem.

“Well, thank you,” you say, taking a breath. “Uh, so, Choso, we should get going. I want to be there in time for the previews.”

“You’re right,” he says, “See you next week, Suguru.”

“See you then. Have a good night,” Suguru smiles, raising his hand in a parting wave. He opens the door and lets the two of you out, allowing you to finally get some space from him.

As soon as you’re down the driveway, you feel a lot more in control of your actions, and your head is clearer. Thank fuck.

“I’m excited to see this movie,” Choso states, getting the car keys from his pocket.

“Me too,” is your response, letting his hand go to get into the passenger seat. As soon as you’re buckled in, he starts the engine and drives off.

You look out of the window to see Suguru standing on his balcony, poised with another cigarette or joint or something between his fingers, looking down at you.

He waves this time, leaning on his hand, and you surreptitiously place your hand on the bottom of the window in a silent response.

Then, you’re driving down the street, away from him.

For the sake of your sanity, you really hope that you don’t end up alone with him again. You fear that you might not be able to control yourself.

—-

A/N: the response I’ve gotten for this is wild!! Thank you all for liking this so much. I hope you enjoyed the update. More drama ahead!

Please don’t repost/translate, but feel free to reblog and share.

Tag list (comment to be added): @jaegerstan222 , @cosmicstarlatte , @dabisdolly , @moonriseoverkyoto , @propheticfire , @bontensbabygirl , @crlyhairedwxtch , @alittlebirdahgaselx , @okkovtsu , @notbellasstuff , @uchihabbynic , @polaroidnana , @childof-iluvtar , @shadowfoxy , @jordan-network , @dreamtravelersade , @unmatchxd

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boo-hoo-hooligan · 4 months ago

Note

So why spy tf2 is a psychopath??

answering both asks in one! (@milowoof @wofs117)

caution, this is a long post. you can find a shortened explanation at the bottom. also the autism makes me bad at putting my thoughts into words, so this may be incomprehensible.

to the first anon, here's what happened. so i was talking to the body's dad and somehow, spy tf2 was brought into the conversation. i mentioned how he sees killing as an art and our dad went, "oh so he's a psychopath?" his reasoning was, psychopathic killers usually see what they do as an art, like spy. (example, a voiceline of his; "Six unstabbed backs: smooth, healthy, untouched by knife wounds? I do love a blank canvas!")

i honestly didn't know the answer to the question, so i searched up the definition of psychopath, and jesus fucking christ the symptoms matched so hard.

to the second anon, i'm truly sorry. i didn't realize it was insensitive of me, and thinking back, i probably should've said something different, or educated myself better.

lemme show you the proof i got. (i will say this, i am no expert, this is just what google showed and we all know google is pretty unreliable.)

SO the first symptom is gilbness ("the quality of being easily fluent, especially in a way that is thoughtless, superficial, or insincere") and superficial charm/charisma, basically meaning psychopaths can be extremely persuasive people.

tell me how this isn't spy. only valve can tell me this isn't how spy is. we all know how spy is likely a conman, and not actually as rich as he plays himself up to be. this links in with pathological lying, and how is seems like second nature for him to act as rich as he probably thinks he is. heck, even in spy gameplay you lie to the opposite team, making poor medics heal you and heavies hate you.

the second is a sadistic enjoyment of pain/suffering. (Not all psychopaths are sadistic, but this quality is not an uncommon trait in a psychopath)

spy very clearly enjoys the suffering of other people. in expiration date, he makes scout repeat the confession he said he didn't want to get out of the room. on the loudspeaker for everyone to hear. here's some voicelines i also found.

"Does it hurt when I do that? It does, doesn't it?!" (dominating a medic)

"At least you died for honor -- and my amusement!" (dominating a soldier)

"Did I throw a wrench into your plans? (laughs maniacally)" (dominating an engineer)

"Oh, please, just stay down!" (dominating a sniper)

"May I make a suggestion? Run." (duel accepted)

next is boredom and thrill-seeking behaviors.

since psychopaths lack some of the normal emotional wirings that most people have, it takes a lot more to excite/thrill them. (I WILL REPEAT THIS ONCE AGAIN I AM NO EXPERT ON THIS TOPIC.) this can lead psychopaths to engage in crime. being a psychopath would give spy a reason to be a, well, spy. he, like every other merc, enjoys the thrill of battle, but spy needs the thrill, unlike the others.

sure, in his spare time he prefers to isolate himself and stay in his smoking room, so this may not necessarily be a symptom. but haven't you noticed how he gets a lot more manic than the calm, collected spy we normally see? just saying.

fourth is a detached, cold, and callous demeanor.

this is basically spy broken down to his core personality points. after scout dies, he doesn't cry or anything. all he does is walk away, and when sniper offers the idea of burying him, all spy does is ask if he can use a shovel sniper's hiding as a weapon. not even like "oh yeah, to properly bury him and all that because i love and treasure him even though he's a whiny bitch." hell, after being SHOT IN THE KNEE AND ABOUT TO BE TORTURED BY SOME GRANDPA, he doesn't react! like damn bro i understand you're a spy, but damn.

plus, in situations when others are upset, scared, etc. a psychopath may appear apathetic, maybe even bored.

OH WAIT LOOK AT THIS

bro does NOT care.

there's a lot more stuff i noticed, but i'm way too burnt out from school for this shit. the tism fuels yet the tism tires me.

sources:

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 spy #spy tf2 #tf2 comics #tf2 theory #psychopathy #i don't know how to tag this uhhhhh #cluster b #i guess #tf2 headcanons

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jadedrrose · 5 months ago

Text

𝐀 𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧'𝐬 𝐇𝐨𝐩𝐞

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧: 𝐀 𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐒𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

art/other info is available on my masterlist.

warning: this chapter has mentions/descriptions of a wound (including blood and stitches)

The deafening roar of the dying lynel rang out, leaving Rose feeling as though she were going to be sick. Had Sooga done it, was it over? But more importantly… was he okay?

As the vines she’d been using the last of her energy to create burst apart, evaporating into the air; Rose immediately got up, heart pounding wildly as she looked at Sooga. He was alive. Relief flooded her, and her lips just barely began to form into a smile, when…

Sooga had been staring at her, clutching at his arm once again. He said nothing though, before dropping to his knees, his body tensing up as he then fell face-down into the blood-stained grass.

“Sooga!” She cried out, terror filling her veins all over again.

Rushing over to where he lay, Rose dropped down, grabbing a hold of him in order to turn him onto his back. But with how much bigger he was than her, she struggled. Pulling her hands back to try and get a better grip, she looked at her pale hands, now bright red and wet with his blood. Eyes widening, Rose could only stare. She hadn’t seen this much blood since-

Breathing in unevenly and sharply, she felt frozen. This was much more blood than she’d anticipated. She needed to do something before he lost too much.

Shrieking, she began to sob and wiped her hands on the grass, before returning to trying to get Sooga onto his back so she could better examine him. Her attempts were weak before, but now, with so much adrenaline bubbling within her, she was able to roll him to be face up.

“Please, please don’t leave me,” she begged, looking for signs of life.

He was definitely breathing, at the very least. But the way his chest moved indicated that he was incredibly weak. However, she knew that more than likely, he’d passed out from energy loss, much like she had so long ago. Still, she needed to address the bleeding wound before it became life-threatening. Trying to find a solution quickly, Rose looked over his body to find something to tie over the wound on his arm. Her eyes then settled on the sheaths of his swords, tied to his belts with a thick rope. That would be more than enough. Reaching for the one closest to herself, she began to untie it with bloodied hands.

Once the rope was free, she scurried over to the other side of where he lay, pulling the piece of armor he wore off of his upper-arm. She then began tying the rope just above the wound, as tightly as she could. His uniform was torn badly where the lynel had struck, and seeing the wound was enough to make her nauseous. Gagging, she tore her eyes away, before trying to think of how to get Sooga back to the hideout. She’d only ever transported herself. How was she meant to also take him, especially when he was so much larger than she was? Not to mention, she was just about out of energy; she wouldn’t even be able to transport herself at this rate.

A sob escaped her lips as she realized she wouldn’t be able to get him to the hideout. He was going to die here, and it would be her fault. Rose was going to lose yet another person she cared for, and once again, she’d be all alone.

No. She wasn’t going to let that happen. Getting to her feet, Rose began to think of a new plan. They were in Faron, which luckily, was full of herbs that she could use to try and heal him temporarily. Immediately, she began to look around, wandering back into the forest and out of the clearing they’d fought the lynel in.

To her relief, it only took mere seconds before she found a cluster of medicinal herbs. Picking as much as she could, she ran back over to Sooga, but then it dawned on her; how was she supposed to get the herbs into an edible form? Crying loudly again, Rose shook her head and buried her face into her hands.

But then she remembered something. Years ago, Cotera had informed her that the small fairies that floated all around Hyrule could be used to recover from serious injuries, albeit only a little. But it would certainly be enough to save Sooga. If she remembered correctly, the small fairies could usually be found near ponds. So with that in mind, Rose began to frantically search for a pond.

By some miracle, she quickly came across the top of Faron’s three giant waterfalls, which had plenty of fairies floating just above the waters. She’d need to be careful in order to catch one, though. Walking slowly, Rose kept her eyes on the one that was closest to land, flying just along the sides of the pond. Inching closer and closer, she bit her lip, holding her breath as she concentrated on not alerting the fairy.

It felt like forever, but after a couple more patient and slow steps, the fairy was within reach. Carefully, she reached out, and then clasped her hands around it. Releasing the breath she’d been holding, she clutched the creature close to her chest, and hastily made her way back to Sooga.

She’d been worried she would return to find him no longer breathing, but thankfully, he was still alive, though barely. Running over to his side, Rose fell to her knees and brought the fairy to Sooga’s arm. As if it could sense his near-fatal wound, the fairy then glowed brightly and swirled around him, before disappearing with a puff. Eyes wide in pure awe, Rose watched as the wound ever so slightly closed up, and the bleeding finally ceased. He was going to be okay.

It then all hit her at once. For twelve years, she had spent her every living moment dwelling on how she’d lost everyone she’d loved, and that despite the fact she was incapable of doing so, she hadn’t been able to save any of them. But now, she’d managed to save Sooga. Tears began sliding past her eyes once again, and with another sob, she collapsed onto him, holding Sooga’s unconscious body tightly.

The thought of him dying had truly shaken her to her core, she then realized. It terrified her so much more than she would’ve ever imagined, and… as she held him, more thoughts crept into her mind. Did she really only care for him as a friend? It wasn’t until now that Rose began to notice how everything he did made her heart pound, caused her stomach to flutter, or how often she felt her face growing warm around him. And up until just now, those ‘symptoms’ she’d felt didn’t seem to mean anything more to her. But with this fight against the lynel, the idea of never seeing him again, losing her one and only friend had wrecked her so badly, that Rose couldn’t help but wonder; was she… falling for him?

Sighing, she didn’t know what to think of that. She’d never been interested in men like that, so what if she was confusing her feelings for platonic ones? And even so, Sooga was the second highest-ranking member of the clan, and she was his apprentice. It wouldn’t be approved of, right?

Resting her head against his chest, the exhaustion of battle was quickly catching up with her, especially with the adrenaline rush wearing off. As she began to struggle with keeping her tear-stained eyes open, Rose listened to Sooga’s heartbeat, the proof that he was alive and still with her, and began to fall asleep.

—

Eyes fluttering open, Rose found that a golden hue was cast onto the earth surrounding her. She stared straight ahead at the sky, seeing that the sun was setting. She’d been asleep for a few hours, then.

Slowly raising her head, she looked over at Sooga, who was still laying down, although… Was he awake? She couldn’t tell with the mask.

Gently, she placed a hand onto his chest. “Sooga?”

“Yes?” He answered, though his voice was hoarse and weak.

Unable to control her emotions, she burst into tears and held him close again. “Thank the gods you’re alive,” she gasped.

“Rose…” he croaked, causing her to pull away again. “Are you alright?”

“Me?” She shook her head, “I-I’m fine. You should be more worried about yourself,” she scolded. “You nearly died.”

“It would’ve been a sacrifice to save you,” he spoke. “But nevertheless, thank you… for helping me.”

Now sitting up, Rose finally looked around to see that their weapons, along with anything the lynel had dropped were still laid out in the grass. There was also blood everywhere, though it was all mostly dry by now. Looking back to Sooga, she noted that she’d need to clean his wound now that they were both awake.

“I need to clean it,” she nodded to his arm. “Although… I have no bandages.”

“Here,” Sooga weakly used his left hand to undo the dark red ravelings on his lower-right arm. Once they were loose enough, the spiked armor fell from its place.

Taking the fabric, Rose got up, stretching. “I’m gonna go wash this. I’ll… be right back, I guess,” she muttered, feeling warmth spreading over her.

She’d suddenly remembered the realization that she had come to just before falling asleep. But still, she tried to deny the idea. They were just friends, and she was only feeling this way since he was the first friend she’d ever been so close with. Forgetting the ridiculous thought, Rose headed over to the pond where she’d found the fairy earlier.

Rinsing the red fabric in the flowing water, she ensured that it was as clean as she could get it before pulling it out and wringing through it. As the last of the excess water dripped from it, she realized she’d need a way to carry water back over so that she could clean up all of the blood on Sooga’s arm. What could she use, though?

As she tried to think of something, she stared off into the distance, past the lake where the three waterfalls flowed down into. Her eyes then landed on a stable, brightly lit up with lanterns as it was beginning to get dark out. With a new idea, she turned around and ran back over to Sooga.

The injured man was now sitting up, part of his uniform removed. It seemed as though he’d taken his gloves and dark gray undershirt off, but then put the collared shirt part of it back on, leaving his arms exposed. Perhaps if she wasn’t so squeamish from seeing the wound, Rose would have spared an extra glance at how muscular his arms looked.

“O-okay, so, I’m going to sneak down to the stable nearby and steal some supplies,” she explained. “It may take a while, since I’ll have to move slowly and wait until anyone inside is asleep, though.”

“Do not worry about that,” he replied. “It would take much longer to sit around and wait until I have the energy to transport us home.”

“Right,” she agreed. “Um, how long will it be before you can do that?”

“Possibly by dawn,” Sooga said. “Though maybe sooner if I eat something.”

“Oh, uhh,” Rose turned around, looking for the banana pile that the footsoldiers never got to bring to the hideout. Spotting it about twenty-feet away, Rose walked over to it and took two bananas from it.

“Is two enough?” She asked, holding them out for Sooga.

He nodded, taking them. “Yes. Thank you.”

“No problem,” she hummed. “Well… I’ll go down to the stable, then. I guess do that energy-call thing if you need me.”

“Alright. Just be careful, Rose.”

“I will,” she promised, before heading off to the waterfalls again.

—

With the sun now fully set, the outside of the stable was deserted. Rose had spent around twenty minutes sitting behind a cluster of trees behind it, waiting for the perfect moment to sneak over.

Eventually, the owner left the check-in desk and went to extinguish all of the lanterns, leaving the majority of the stable darkened. This gave her a new advantage. When that was done, he returned to the front desk and sat down.

Cursing inwardly, Rose wished she could just transport herself back to the hideout and get help from the other clansmen. But she didn’t have the energy to do so, or even the skill to go such a far distance. It was on the other side of Hyrule; there was no way she’d make it on her first try.

Taking in a deep breath, she forced herself to leave the cluster of trees and began sneaking over to the cooking pot. With the lights out and clouds covering the moon, she hopefully wouldn’t be spotted.

Staying low to the ground, Rose looked around the cooking pot for anything she could use to help clean Sooga’s wound. A small chest sat beside the pot, and inside were items that stable visitors could use to cook with. Spotting a small bowl, Rose grabbed it along with some flint and some firewood from underneath the pot. Now struggling to hold everything, she quickly focused her energy and transported herself back to where she’d left Sooga.

Reappearing with the puffing of smoke surrounding her, Rose rushed a few steps forward before dropping everything to the ground.

“Sorry-“ she hastily dipped down, picking up the flint and bowl, leaving the wood in a neater pile on the grass. “I’m going to start a fire. Can I use one of your throwing knives?”

Sooga nodded, reaching into his belt with his good arm. Handing the small weapon off to Rose, she held the flint nearby the wood and began to strike at it, desperately hoping the wood would catch fire sooner than later. The night temperature was dropping fast. Even though they were in the humid region of Faron, it was still technically winter, after all.

Cursing, Rose kept trying to get the wood to light. Sparks flew, and after another short moment, she finally got the fire going.

“Finally,” she huffed, getting back to her feet with the bowl in hand. “I’m going to get water,” she said, not wasting a second.

—

Coming back from the waterfall again, this time with a bowl of water in her hands, Rose carefully approached Sooga and got down on her knees, examining the wound.

Forcing herself not to gag, she determined that the fairy had probably healed it enough to keep the wound from bleeding again, therefore it shouldn’t be life-threatening. So long as it didn’t get infected, that was. Taking the bowl, she poured some water over Sooga’s arm and then onto her hands. Hesitantly, she placed her hands on his arm, and as her right hand got closer to the wound, he tensed up. That only caused the muscle in his arm to flex, though, and Rose’s heart skipped a beat as she felt it beneath her palm.

Gods, he was so strong. Even though she should’ve been focused on the horrible wound she was meant to be cleaning, she couldn’t help but let her thoughts stray… how would it feel to have those muscular arms wrapped around her, squeezing her closely? She’d gotten a glimpse into that every time Sooga transported with her, but what would it be like in an intimate setting? Without their armor and uniforms keeping their skin from touching?

Sooga coughed, awkwardly, and Rose was then snapped back into reality. Face and ears burning, she moved her hand to the skin around the wound, gently rubbing the dried blood off of Sooga’s tanned skin. He sucked in a sharp breath, but didn’t move or jerk away from her. She couldn’t imagine how painful this must be for him.

“I’m sorry, I know it hurts,” she whispered, pouring more water onto his arm. The blood was clearing up, and she’d be able to wrap it soon. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” he grunted, but he was still incredibly tense, and his fist was balled up, veins prominent as he tightly held it against his leg.

Feeling terribly sorry, Rose began to wish she could do something to help soothe him. Maybe run a hand through his hair, or even kiss his hurt away? What?! What was wrong with her? Why did she all of a sudden feel the need to dote on Sooga? Biting her lip, she used her left hand to rub his back as she continued washing the last of the dried blood off of his skin with the other.

“Okay, blood’s gone,” she muttered, rinsing the last of the water over her right hand. “I’m going to wrap it now. It might hurt.”

Beginning to wrap the dark red fabric over the wound, Rose held her breath the whole time in anticipation of Sooga making a sign of being in pain. But, fortunately, he didn’t. When the makeshift bandage was secure, he visibly relaxed.

“So, it’s done, but it’ll need stitches once we get back to the hideout.” She told him, sitting down.

“Thank you,” he then quietly said.

“Of course,” she tried giving him a small smile. “It’s my fault anyway… it’s the least I can do.”

“It’s not your fault,” Sooga shook his head. “That lynel was going to kill you if I hadn’t risked injury.”

She wanted to argue, say she’d been too eager to try using her new skills on the beast, but decided to let it go. After a moment, she got up, taking the bowl with her.

“I’m going to get more water,” she informed him. “Otherwise we'll both die of dehydration.”

“Okay,” Sooga nodded.

—

After boiling the water and letting it cool, Rose and Sooga then shared the bowl, facing away from each other as they took turns drinking from it.

Face warm, Rose couldn’t tell if it was from the burning fire nearby or the fact that her lips were touching the same bowl that Sooga’s had been on. It was such a childish thought, yet her heart thudded heavily as she dwelled on it. The idea of losing him had really sent her into a love-stricken spiral, it seemed.

The fire was still going fairly strong and keeping them warm, but the wind had begun to pick up, as the clouds grew darker above them.

“Do you think it’s going to rain?” She asked, staring at the sky.

“It seems that way,” Sooga replied, voice clearer without the mask muffling it. “Hopefully my energy will be sufficient enough before it starts, though.”

As though the sky was taunting them, Rose just then felt a wet drop against her leg. “I don’t know about that,” she said, worry evident in her voice.

She could hear Sooga sigh from behind her, and he passed the bowl over again. “You can finish it.”

“Thanks,” she took a sip, tilting her head back to get every last drop into her mouth.

With their drinking water now gone, she set the bowl aside and hugged her knees to her chest, hoping the rain would stay as light as it was right now.

But that didn’t happen. With every minute or so, more and more rain began to fall, until it was completely pouring. The fire was put out instantly, leaving Rose shivering.

Sooga apparently took notice, reaching over with his left hand to feel her arm. “You’re freezing,” he muttered, “come to my side.”

“H-huh?”

“You’re going to freeze to death, Rose,” Sooga bluntly said. “Come sit by me, my body heat will keep you warm.”

Hesitantly, Rose got up and made her way to Sooga’s left side. As soon as she sat down, he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer until she was squished against his side.

Heart pounding wildly, she instantly felt herself warming up. While he was right, his body heat would help her, the idea of being so close with him was making her burn up too.

“I’m sorry if you’re uncomfortable,” he then said. “But I’d rather you be safe.”

“N-no,” she stammered, “it’s fine.”

As the wind blew harder and the rain slammed down, Rose shoved her foolish thoughts aside and focused on the fact that she’d be warmer if she stayed as close as possible to Sooga. Snuggling closer, she began lowering her head against his shoulder, seeing if he’d react to it.

But Sooga said nothing, and so she allowed herself to fully rest her head against him. And now to wait out the storm.

—

Starling awake, Rose found herself once again opening her eyes to Sooga next to her. Though they were still sitting the way they had been throughout the storm.

The rain was gone, and the sky was turning blue again as the sun began to rise beyond the eastern horizon. It was just before dawn, it seemed.

Looking up to Sooga, her eyes widened to find his mask staring right back at her.

“Wha- how long was I out for?” She asked, rather startled.

“Only a couple of hours,” he answered. “I figured you needed to rest after running back and forth.”

“I mean, y-yeah,” she stuttered, pulling away. “But I fell asleep on you, you should’ve woken me up.”

“I didn’t mind,” Sooga shrugged.

Huffing, Rose got up and stretched, finding she was still wet, especially her hair. It was tangled by now, too. Groaning as she tried running a hand through it only for it to snag, she looked back to Sooga. “Are you able to transport yet?”

“I am,” he confirmed.

Instantly, she grinned. “Oh thank Hyl- Ganon,” she corrected, feeling awkward about it. Just another thing she’d need to get used to.

Rushing to gather their belongings, Rose secured her katana back to herself, and helped Sooga get his swords in their sheathes and tied to his belts, as he still couldn’t use his right arm.

Now they both stood up, and Sooga wrapped his left arm around her again, in preparation to teleport.

Glancing to the banana pile, Rose gestured to it. “What about the bananas?”

“We’ll send someone else to retrieve them,” Sooga replied.

She nodded in response.

Holding tightly onto him, Rose blinked, and when she reopened her eyes, she found herself surrounded by familiar stone walls.

At last, they were back at the hideout.

The relief of finally being back home washed over Sooga. But at the same time, a wave of weakness rushed over him, and he felt his legs become somewhat wobbly. He was still injured badly, and using up what little energy he’d regained to transport himself and Rose across Hyrule had completely drained him all over again.

Rose took notice instantly. “Sooga, are you alright?”

“No,” he managed to say, clutching at his right arm. The pain had returned, too.

“Let’s get to the infirmary,” she beckoned, keeping an arm around his back. “The fairy’s effects are wearing off, I think.”

Ah, that’s what it was. Though it made sense; one small fairy would never be enough to heal a wound as bad as the one he had.

Stepping out of the hallway he’d transported them into, Rose walked with him, keeping her hand on his back the whole way. So far, nobody was around to realize they’d returned. It was still quite early, after all.

When they finally reached the infirmary, Sooga felt discouraged when he realized nobody was there, either. Rose made a sound of disappointment, but had him sit at a wooden chair.

“Why are none of the healers around?” She frowned. “Ugh, I’ll just have to do it myself.”

Do what, exactly? Did Rose have experience in healing people? If she did, when did she learn to do so?

The brunette headed over to a wooden table that had supplies gathered on top of it. Unable to see what she was getting, Sooga waited patiently.

When she came back over, she had bandages, cleaning solution, a hand-towel, and… a needle with thread.

“I’m going to have to stitch it,” she muttered, looking incredibly nervous. “It’s going to be really painful.”

“Have you done this before?” He then asked, genuinely curious.

Her frown deepened. “…no, but I have sewn clothing, so…”

Well, at least she knew how to sew properly. Despite her inexperience, Sooga decided that he trusted Rose to stitch his wound up. Relaxing his arm, he then waited for her to move. First, she pulled the makeshift bandages off of his arm. Looking at the wound, he frowned. It looked pretty bad.

Hesitantly, Rose then poured some of the cleaning solution over his arm and wiped it with the hand towel, causing it to sting. Then, she held up the sterilized needle, ensuring that the thread was through it correctly.

“O-okay,” she stuttered, glancing between his arm and the needle. Her hands were shaking, too. Rose was certainly more nervous than he was, to say the least.

“Don’t worry about me,” Sooga then tried telling her. “I’ll be fine.”

“I just… I’m scared of hurting you…” she timidly whispered, placing her hand next to the wound, bringing the needle closer with her right.

“It’s going to hurt me no matter how gentle you are,” he bluntly said. “Rose… just trust yourself.”

“Okay,” she replied, sucking in a deep breath. “I’m gonna start now...”

“Alright.”

He watched as she forced her hands to become steady, and with a cringed expression on her face, she pushed the needle through the first bit of his skin. He tensed up and hissed, but for her sake, tried to suppress any other signs that he was in pain.

She then bit down on her lip, continuing to stitch up the wound. It hurt like hell, but Sooga continued to stay calm, more worried about making Rose panic.

After a few agonizing moments, she finally closed up the wound, and let out the loudest sigh of relief he’d ever heard. “Shit,” she cursed, wiping the sweat from her forehead. “That was the scariest thing I’ve ever done.”

“Well, you did a good job,” Sooga said, looking at the now closed wound. It looked just as good as the medics of the clan’s stitching, especially for her first time.

“I hope so,” she muttered, getting more cleaning solution onto his arm. “I’m gonna wrap it up.”

Taking the bandages she’d brought over, she began to wrap the dressings around his arm, and after a moment, she tied it.

“Alright, now, uh… you should go wash up. I’ll tell Master Kohga that we’re back and make you a healing tea.”

“Don’t bother, he’s most certainly not awake at this hour,” Sooga told her. “You should go bathe, too.”

She looked down, glancing over her bloodied uniform. “I guess so…”

Standing up, Sooga waited for Rose to put the supplies away before heading over to the door. She followed suit, and with that, they headed over to their quarters before going their separate ways.

—

After stripping himself of the dirtied, bloody uniform he’d been stuck wearing for the past two days, Sooga showered, watching as all of the dried blood on his body washed off and went into the drain system beneath his feet.

With his left hand, he pulled the white ribbon off of his hair, his long black locks instantly falling over his back and shoulders. It seemed his hair hadn’t gotten too tangled, probably due to the neat hairstyle he kept it in. Rose’s hair, on the other hand… he felt bad for her, knowing how long it would take to brush those knots out, based on his own experiences.

Once he was done showering, he decided to wear sweatpants and a tank-top, as he probably wouldn’t be doing any of his normal work for the next couple of days. And even if he wasn’t injured, he certainly needed a day of rest after everything he’d gone through in the last twenty-four hours.

As soon as he was dressed, Sooga got into his bed, but laid atop the covers, not quite ready to fall asleep yet. After a few minutes of him sitting there, gazing at the wall in front of him, there was a knock at the door.

Getting up, Sooga grabbed his mask and put it on before heading over to the door. He opened it, finding Rose on the other side.

Her hair was still dripping wet, but now brushed out and clean. She was wearing the pink nightgown he’d spotted on her bed all those weeks ago, revealing all of her markings. For a brief second, he looked over her right arm, his eyes following the vines that traveled up her skin. But quickly, he realized he must’ve seemed creepy with the way he was staring at her. Blinking, Sooga spotted the steaming cup in her hands. So she’d made the tea, after all.

“I showered as fast as I could so that I could make this,” she nodded to the cup. “Although… my hair took forever to brush, so, sorry for the delay.”

“That’s alright,” he said, stepping aside to allow her into his room.

“Also, I was gonna wash your uniform for you, since… you know,” she trailed off as she headed inside, closing the door behind herself.

Walking over to his bed, Sooga shook his head. “It can wait until after you’ve properly rested. But I appreciate it.”

He then sat on the edge of his bed, using his left hand to gesture to the open space next to him. “You can sit, if you’d like.”

Rose seemed hesitant, but sat down anyway. She held the tea out to him, and he gratefully took it. “Ah wait-“ she stood back up, moving to sit on the end side of his bed, now facing away from him. “Your mask…”

Sooga pulled his mask off, and gazed at Rose as he took a sip of the warm healing tea. She was messing with the edges of the skirt on her nightgown, which had small fabric roses and lace all along the hem. He wondered if she’d made the clothing article herself.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done…” he then said, after swallowing some more of the drink. It was certainly not much, but he could already feel the healing herbs she’d boiled into the water taking effect.

“Oh, uh… you’re welcome,” she replied, head lowered as she kept twisting the dainty fabric beneath her fingers. “Don’t feel like you owe me anything, though. I’m glad to have helped.”

He chuckled. “Alright. Just know I’d do the same for you, Rose.”

How badly he wanted to say ‘because I love you…’

“Sooga?” She then said his name, no longer playing with her night dress. Her head was up now, her back straightened.

“Yes?”

“…do you think this is what your dream was warning you about?” She asked.

He thought about it. His mother’s words had been that Rose would save him, but not from what. However, he would’ve died if it weren’t for everything she’d done to aid him in the past day. He nodded, taking another sip. “I do.”

“Same,” she agreed. “It’s crazy how fate works that way, huh?”

“Indeed.”

Fate… everything that had happened in his life led him to this moment now. His mother dying, later followed by his father, then being taken in by Master Kohga and becoming the right hand of the inverted eye… it had all led him to Rose. She was his fate.

Even if life was cruel, perhaps fate wasn’t, he decided.

#sooga x oc #sooga x original character #hwaoc sooga #sooga #sooga x reader #legend of zelda fanfiction #zelda fanfiction #zelda fic #hyrule warriors fic #age of calamity fic #yiga clan #yiga oc #loz fanfic #loz oc #age of calamity #age of calamity sooga

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dunmanticarchivistsmain · 1 year ago

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istg one more beautiful piece of writing inspired by my self indulgent doodling and im gonna explode into one million pieces on fire <3

Round 3 fired and away! For your latest art, I'm sure we will have a perfectly normal conversation about this (and secret life tomorrow once I've watched it). Not sure if I need to put warnings on this, somewhat heavy on the selfwhump in the first bit

When Scarlet Pearl rose from the crater of Scott's sacrifice, she was untouched by the violence, as though the carnage of the previous day had not occured. Mindlessly she set about collecting the detrius of the casualties, a half-remembered habit of tidying up. A battered diamond chestplate, a bloody sword, a splintered bow. All with no body to bury. Nonetheless, she piled it into individual chests and heaped a mound of dirt over each. Sticking a sign over these graves, she left an epitaph for their ending.

"Scott, the star that went off with a bang"

"Martyn & Cleo, divided in life and death"

"Impulse & Bdubs, something wicked their way came"

"Etho & Joel, the boat burned, everything burned"

At last, with Jimmy and Tango's death already marked, she made her way back to her tower, a single leftover sign tucked away. One with her name on it. One last ending.

The lonely perches of her tower loomed out of her exhausted reach. It didn't seem worth the effort, to climb all the way up, to where pain had made its home in her heart. Scarlet Pearl wondered aloud, to no one but Tilly, if she should just dig her own grave and wait for death to claim her.

A reply unexpected came from the rustling in the brush.

"Who's there?" Scarlet Pearl called out, gripping her axe, then thought better of it. She did after all, call for the end. And Tilly didn't seem to mind whoever was out there, tail wagging and head tilted in confusion. A state of mind shared by Scarlet Pearl, for she was sure of being alone. She was cursed to be; victory had ensured it. She fell to her knees, letting the happy, silly look on Tilly fill the imminent void.

"You", whispered a voice that was at once familiar and foreign to her ears.

"That's not an answer mate", her head turned to the source of the voice.

Stepping out was an impossible figure. A worn blue hoodie, flowing brown hair and piercing grey eyes. Scarlet Pearl had to look away, she could not meet her mirror's gaze. Was it one of pity? Was it contempt? She could barely guess from a glimpse; would Death be so cruel to use herself in its image?

The question of who was an instinctive one, but the thought made her shudder, jumbling her words "who- why are you here?"

"You. I'm here for you."

"Get away from me!"

Shaking her head reflexively in denial, Scarlet Pearl fumbled for a weapon, finding the sign with her name on it and raised it in one shaking hand. In the depths of despair, her instincts found she would not let Death take her without a fight yet. She was Scarlet Pearl, undefeated and unscarred, survivor of the death games-

The apparition, as she was fully revealed in the moonlight, was no perfect replica of her. Patched up scrapes, bandaged wounds littering her unarmored skin. They looked to be in a real rough state, Scarlet Pearl could easily take on this version of her. But there was something about how her mirror carried themself, the gentleness in their voice, that paralyzed Scarlet Pearl. Not from fear or resignation. But an ugly, painful envy of the affection in her mirror's eyes.

How could she love or be loved ever again?

This Pearl sank to her knees in front of Scarlet Pearl, interlocking one of their hands. Scarlet Pearl was torn, her touch starved self cried out for the first human contact in days? Weeks-, wait human? That hand fit in hers so smoothly, they were undeniably her own.

"You're not Death" Scarlet Pearl said, feeling exceptionally foolish for being unable to recognise herself. Tilly clearly did, nuzzling between the two happily.

"I am no more Death than you are," the other Pearl agreed, gently prising the sign from her other hand, leaning it against the base of the tower then capturing her limp fingers with their own warm ones.

"I'm just the you, who you'd let lead you home."

The last gasp of adrenaline faded; oh Void she was so tired, so bone-deep tired of being alone. All Scarlet Pearl could do is clutch those hands, as though they'd fade away if she didn't.

But they were already were, the Pearl-that-was-her slowly becoming less substantial as their warmth lingered and spread.

"Don't leave me! How will I get home? Where even is a home for me?" she cried plaintively, the numbness wearing off, the pain sweeping in.

"Hold me in your heart. Hold your hurts; and hold closer the hope of their healing."

She could already feel her grasp slipping, her mauled mending mirror of a self, fading, no, melding into her. Gashes opened where swords have left their mark, bruises bloomed with a fresh vengeance and her heart felt like it was torn from her chest anew.

"Home is where they are waiting for you."

The last wisps of their fingers parted and Pearl collapsed, falling forwards-

Pearlescentmoon fell out of this world Pearlescentmoon joined the game

Into loving arms.

#ok i am ping ponging between this one #is it too vague self absorbed or blunt is there the right balance of H/C?#idk man this was a struggle to write #selflove is tough #and for goodness sake am i projecting onto a character?#a solid maybe #like there are small parts of it i relate to #and others i have no idea where they come from #LIAU STOP GIVING ME IDEAS #(no please draw some more I love these blorbos)#tldr traumatized pearl meets future healing pearl whos there to help her move on by recognising her wounds and pain #also you can headcanon whoevers arms it is at the end but its shiny duo on hermitcraft you know its shiny duo for me XD #alright me sleepy now this was horrendously awkward to write #like i might look at this in the morning and trash it because of the wording #but just maybe i might be ok

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astr0disiac · 6 months ago

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ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 11: ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴏʀ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴀᴛ ᴀʟʟ (ꜱꜰᴡ ᴇᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴ)

☆ᴏʀɪɢɪɴᴀʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴀᴠᴀɪʟɪʙʟᴇ ʜᴇʀᴇ

☆ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ:

Tiana feels as though she deserves the suffering she's endured over the past five years after the tragic loss of her husband, Naveen. But Nanami wants to prove that she is capable of giving and receiving love again.

But even the sweetest of kisses can't heal the sourest of wounds.

An office-work romance like no other, filled with love, loss, and betrayal from those Tiana thought she could trust the most.

☆ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 22,000

☆ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: implied/referenced suicide [mild], implied/referenced self-harm [mild], implied/referenced miscarriage, angst, slow burn, implied sexual content, profanity, and heavy drinking (mdni)

☆ᴍʏ ꜱɪɴᴄᴇʀᴇꜱᴛ ᴀᴘᴏʟᴏɢɪᴇꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴍɪꜱꜱᴘᴇʟʟɪɴɢꜱ ᴏʀ ɢʀᴀᴍᴍᴀᴛɪᴄᴀʟ ᴇʀʀᴏʀꜱ☆

It was warm.

So warm.

Tiana didn’t budge when she heard her front door creak open. Nor does she do anything when a familiar set of thudding footsteps grew louder to her bathroom, Nanami slipping past the cracked door and sliding his arms around her waist from behind. She watched in her bathroom mirror, simpering as he placed a gentle kiss behind her ear. It was warm. The air was warm with spring. Nanami’s arms were warm with preservation. Tiana’s heart was warm with life. It felt cozier than Christmas Eve.

“You look beautiful.”

His words were warm.

“You’re quite handsome yourself.”

Her eyes were warmer.

Nanami just looked so cool when he ditched the formal wear, especially now because the temperature was beginning to rise. He wore a white polo and dark jeans, hair styled back as he usually wore it, with a few tufts hanging in front of his forehead. He adorned a golden watch that ticked impatiently, and his glasses began sliding down his nose when he placed his chin on Tiana’s shoulder. She took her finger, pushing them up, Nanami admiring Tiana’s reflection.

She wore a flowing sundress that stopped right below her knees with a vibrant floral pattern, the off-shoulder sleeves puffing around the upper part of her arm. Her skin shined, polished with buttered vanilla, and looked so smooth; Nanami had to refrain from burying his nose in her collar and inhaling deeply. Having her pressed against him like this made him feel high, her presence drug-inducing.

“You’re gonna’ love the date.” Nanami seems to swoon, his voice a hum in Tiana’s ear. “I guarantee it.”

“Oh?” She spoke to his reflection. “How can you be so sure?”

“Well if you hate it, which I highly doubt you will, I’ll…” Nanami ponders.

“You’ll?”

“I’ll…tell you my first impression of you.”

Tiana guffaws, falling into him more with a radiant laugh. “Wow, it must have been really bad if you’re willing to wager that.”

Nanami cringes, eyes twinging as if he were in pain. “Ehhh…”

Tiana swats at him playfully.

“Then to make it even, if I love it, which I doubt I won’t, then I’ll tell you my first impression of you.”

Nanami laughs, a loud “oh” resonating from his chest.

“Then I can’t wait to hear this.” Nanami squeezes her arms a bit tighter. “You’re on.”

Nanami drives the two around the city, the destination unknown to Tiana as she ponders what it could be, her guesses scattered to the wind like the pink petals outside the window. Everything was so bright, and the fragrant smell of flowers seemed to dew on Tiana’s skin. Nanami noticed how her feet tapped on the car floor.

“Excited?” He asks, a beaming smile spreading across his face. Tiana turned, her expression mirroring his.

“I’m a bit giddy.” Tiana’s hands scrunch the fabric of her dress slightly. “Let’s play a game.”

“The name?”

“The ‘Tiana Tries to Guess the Date Before the Date’ game.”

“Pretty long name.” Nanami chuckles, absolutely humored. “Guess away.”

And of course she did, her predictions ranging from a wide variety.

“Is it, maybe, a nice dinner on a rooftop?”

“No.”

“The zoo?”

“Eh…no.”

“Is it the Mori Art Museum?”

“Good idea…but nope.”

“I would like to go one day. The exhibits seem breathtaking.”

“Not as breathtaking as you.”

“Stay focused.”

“Right…sorry.”

“The…park?”

“Kind of? But, no.”

Tiana continued to guess as Nanami pulled into a dirt lot. Gravel and dust billowing outside the car windows. Tiana looked at the picture laid before her, the area crowded with stalls that ranged from fresh fruit, to trinkets, to home decor.

It was the market.

The same market that the two frequented quite a bit together.

“Oh!” Tiana drew the word out, trying to recover her excitement. “Oh, the market! W-wow! What a…great idea, babe!”

Nanami stopped the car, pursing his lips. “No, this isn’t the date. I just need to run a quick errand. This will lead up to the date.”

“Whew, thank God.” Tiana mumbled, unbuckling her seatbelt. She looks up to see Nanami giving her a blank stare. She tries to bounce back.

“N-not that it would be a bad idea,” Tiana laughs nervously. “It’s just-”

“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t plan anything but the best for you.”

Tiana smiles, placing a quick kiss on his cheek as an apology.

Tiana finds herself getting lost in the different stalls, the layout changing every other weekend and inviting something new for her to gaze at. She sauntered through the glass windchimes for a while, the light from the sun catching on the glass and glowing on her skin like globes of glitter; Nanami snapped a picture in secret. She ran her fingers across the different sized tubes, a song twinkling from them ever so sweetly. The wind, moved by this melody, breathed gently into the open area, petals skimming the pavement and fragranting the fresh breeze. Tiana held her dress down to keep it from getting caught. Thank the Lord she always wore shorts.

Tiana being the foodie that she was, wanted to try everything in sight, but Nanami warned her that she would spoil her dinner.

“So it is a dinner date.”

Nanami paused.

“Okay, I gave you that one for free.”

Instead, they taste tested some items here and there, Nanami taking note of what Tiana seemed eager to try more of and what she politely declined. Tiana began to notice Nanami whispering to the different sellers behind her back when she was out of earshot. Even when she tried to use her listening skills, she could barely understand what Nanami was plotting, especially when he switched to rapid fire Japanese; he was doing this to be funny. There were only a few words Tiana could make out, after taking a painstakingly long time to mentally translate it. Random numbers, what sounded like a total, the name of flavors. It was so random, but Tiana began to piece it together slowly.

But what threw her off the most is when he bought two blankets; what the hell would they be needing blankets for? Tiana had plenty at home. At first she believed they were for Nanami; the guy seemed to sleep with just a sheet. But it didn’t match the decor the two agreed upon for his home.

“That’s all you needed?” Tiana inquired, peaking at Nanami with her hands behind her back as he carried the folded blankets.

“I got everything else already.” Nanami smiled, but there was something hidden in those brown eyes. Tiana squinted, still trying to guess what their outing would be. The sun would be setting soon, and the walking that they did left Tiana’s feet aching a bit. She didn’t want to complain, but she could feel herself growing a bit impatient.

“We’re almost there, promise.” Nanami said, opening the door for Tiana as she got in. He closed the door, going to the trunk of his car, rummaging for a while. Tiana peaked out the rearview mirror, one of the sellers Nanami had talked to earlier had appeared, and began helping Nanami with whatever he was rummaging through in his trunk.

The trunk gently clicked closed, Nanami sliding into the driver’s seat and clicking his seatbelt. “Alright, you get one more guess before we get there.”

“What?!”

“It’s only fair.” Nanami shrugged, pulling out of the dirt road. “I gave you a hint earlier. And you’ve been guessing for a while.”

“Ugh!” Tiana threw her head back dramatically.

Well, Tiana thought. We tried some food, and I can smell something a bit spicy in the back of the car. He bought some blankets, and he mentioned dinner. He’s not driving back to either of our houses either.

Tiana arrived at her final answer just as they pulled into another lot, fields of vibrant green grass and thick cherry blossoms with tops reaching for the heavens, but their branches waving to the earth below. Patches of flowers dotted the land, freshly sprouted and woven into the dirt like embroidery. Not too far, a river glistening like crystals in the light, a worn-out stone bridge the only way across. And not too far from them, a wooden dock lined with canoes.

“I thought you said we weren’t coming to the park.” Tiana said with a smile, looking at Nanami as they stood in front of his trunk. His arms were folded, and he had a smirk about him.

“I said 'kind of'. So, what’s your final guess?”

“Hmph.” Tiana said, tapping her chin. “Food. Blankets. Scenery so beautiful it looks as if it were painted.”

“Go on…” Nanami hummed.

“It’s…” Tiana pointed at him dramatically, her stance wide. “A picnic.”

Nanami’s face didn’t move.

“Is that your final answer?”

“Is it the right one?”

“You tell me.”

“Nanami!”

“Alright, alright, you got me.” Nanami holds his hands up in defeat, chuckling as he waves his foot under the car, the trunk popping open. “It is a picnic. But…”

“But?” Tiana hung onto every word. There’s more?

The trunk opened to reveal a wide picnic basket, the woven box barely able to contain its contents. Tiana’s eyes seemed to moisture themselves, her hands clutching her dress. Bunches of grapes peaked out the box, and a bottle of sparkling cider. Boxes were packed tightly with different delicacies she had been eying the whole day. It was almost too perfect to divulge in.

“But it’s on the water.”

Tiana’s heart dropped into her stomach.

It seemed to burst. Deflating into her gut, a heavy heap sinking like a stone being casted into the pretty waters before her.

Nanami doesn’t seem to pick it up, gathering the basket, the blankets, and a battery operated lantern to the bank. As he sprawls one of the blankets on the seats of the small boat, Tiana stands in the distance, gripping the ruffles of her dress.

What should she do?

This was a step forward she wasn’t quite keen on taking yet.

She didn’t want to ruin the date but-

“You comin’?” Nanami calls out, placing the basket in the middle, turning back to Tiana with such a proud look it almost blinded her. He just looked so damn happy; she didn’t want to diminish his shine.

She wanted to step into it.

So she tries to put a bit of pep in her step, and sprinkle humor in her voice despite her trembling insides. Nanami stands with his hand outstretched, watching Tiana try to hide the rigidness in her walk. When she locks her fingers with his, he squeezes her hand and pulls her closer so that he could find the truth within her eyes if she decided to let a lie leave her lips.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” She answers quickly. “I’m just…not a huge fan of water.”

“Oh-” Nanami reaches for the basket, not once letting go of Tiana’s hand. “Then we don’t have to-”

“No!” She yanks him back to her, her grip surprising Nanami. He knocks his head to the side, examining her. “I really want to, just…”

She lets out a shaky exhale.

“Just don’t let me fall in, okay?”

Nanami places a hand on the side of her face, gently pressing his lips into her clammy forehead. She was always pushing herself too far for him, and Nanami selfishly allowed her to.

“Never.”

Nanami climbed into the canoe, Tiana teetering in after him with a deathly grip. Nanami coaxed her not to worry too much, helping her sit down on her side. Once seated, Tiana gripped the blanket she sat on, not once allowing relaxation the chance to settle in.

“Are you sure?” Nanami asked, picking up the oars. Tiana just nodded, forcing a weak smile on her pretty lips.

“Of course.”

Nanami frowned slightly, using one of the paddles to push at the bank, the boat dipping into the smooth water. He pushed gently, the boat sliding against gravel and liquid, the slithering crunch causing Tiana to grab at either side of the boat. The boat plods into the water, Tiana yelping as cold droplets splashback at her.

“Nope-” She heaves, grappling to stand up and rocking the boat roughly. “I thought I could-”

“Wait, Tiana-!” Nanami called out, steadying himself as she scrambled up, the basket and lantern sliding over and hitting the wooden insides with a loud knock, the flap threatening to open and release all their goodies, but he didn’t care so much about that. He didn’t want her falling in. “Be careful!”

“I’m sorry, I gotta-”

Tiana’s foot gets caught on the boat, causing her to trip forward into the grassy bank, thankfully catching herself. She scurried up, her shoes splashing into the cold water as she does a makeshift jog away from Nanami. Away from the memories that seemed to nip at her ankles.

Nanami drops his head into his hands.

“Fuck.”

Tiana stood hunched over, hands gripping her knees as ragged breaths tore through her. All she could do was shake her head, her hair bouncing wildly around her shoulders and face, a few curls getting caught in her gloss and tangled in her eyelashes.

“No…” She muttered, wrinkling her dress between her sweaty hands. “Not now. Come on. You were doing so well.”

She stands up quickly, blowing air through her lips as she paces, trying to calm down. She closed her eyes, face scrunched with a pain only known to her, her mind traveling back to a place only she had access to.

“Stop it.” She hissed to herself. “Don’t do this to yourself.”

Don’t do this to him.

Another pair of footsteps padded behind her own in the soft grass. She turned to see Nanami, everything thrown into his arms in a hurry. His face is grim.

“H-Hey…” Tiana tried to catch her breath. “What are you doing?”

“Come on, let’s go home.”

“Wait-!” Tiana grew flustered. “Nanami, I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes I am!” Tiana argued back, her fists balled at her sides. “Let’s just go back…”

Back to that warmth.

“I should have been more considerate.” Nanami ignored her, walking towards the car.

“Nanami,” Tiana huffed, following behind him. “You’re the most considerate person I know, I mean, look at all this.” She gestured to the beautiful scene before them that juxtaposed their bitter discussion. “You did all this just for me. I don’t want to ruin it…”

“Tiana, this is what I’m supposed to do.” Nanami turns to her. “I’m supposed to go out of my way for you. I want to.”

“And I want to stay. That isn’t fair to you.”

“Who cares about me? I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I care!” Tiana’s voice comes out a bit sharper than she wanted, and Nanami finds himself wincing. “I care, Nanami! This isn’t just about me. It’s about us. This relationship…it’s a team effort.”

“Tiana,” Nanami goes to pinch the bridge of his nose. “This isn’t a ‘what can you do for me’ type of situation. I would never expect that from you. This is about your well being- I don’t want you pushing yourself too hard. I don’t mean to argue-” His voice crumbled.

“You’re not listening to me, Nanami. I don’t want to argue, hell, I wouldn’t even count this. I just want to compromise.”

Nanami huffs a breath, a tuft of hair falling out of place. “Tiana, if you want to stay to try and save my feelings or prove something-”

“I want to stay,” Her chest seemed to swell, “not to spare your feelings, but because I want to spend time with you. I want you to know that I truly do appreciate you and everything that you do when you don’t have to.” Tiana didn’t know why her face began to burn as if she were next to a red, hot stovetop. When was the last time she said something like this? And it didn’t even graze the surface of the vulnerability she felt when Nanami was near. “Just…let me have this. Let us have this.”

Nanami’s jaw loosened as the conversation fizzled into mush. He still didn’t like the idea of Tiana stressing herself to appease him. His face tinged with pink as he looked away. He had to put his foot down, but it was so hard to say no to her.

“I feel like…you’re making this transactional…” His voice was timid. Tiana grabs his face with both her hands, squishing his cheeks as she pulls him down to her eye level. His glasses tilted on the bridge of his nose. Her eyes held nothing but resolve, unwavering as she spoke in a sturdy voice.

“We’re staying.”

With puckered lips and a rosy face, Nanami could do nothing but nod as Tiana held him in her hands both literally and figuratively.

“Mm’kay.” He muttered in defeat.

She places a quick peck on his nose, patting his cheeks apologetically, then pushes his glasses back into place.

“There he is.” Tiana jokes, massaging her palms into his face. “My big softie.”

Nanami squints his eyes, hoisting the items in his hands.

“Well…where would you like to go?” Nanami asks. “We can eat in the center of the park.”

Tiana looked toward the dock that branched off into a sturdy pier. She pinches a piece of his shirt fabric between her pointer and thumb, dragging him in that direction.

“Come on.”

Nanami set up the large blanket on the dock, the bit of fabric curved over the side flowing in the gentle breeze. The lantern sat between them along with glass plates and polished silverware ready to be decorated with the delicacies popping out of the woven basket. Tiana sat with her knees folded over, adjusting the dress so it wouldn’t skirt up her legs. Nanami sat in a sort of criss-cross fashion, hands reaching in the basket to divvy up their dinner.

Tiana thought that Nanami had truly outdone himself, her eyes growing much bigger than her stomach as he accessorized her white plate with an array of treats that ranged from sweet to savory; she recognized a few from the market. Thick, white rounds of sushi, juicy chicken filet coated in a sauce that shimmered like gold, fresh fruits carved into the shapes of lotus and armored in a shell of chocolate, a variety of soft dumplings, skewers of roasted vegetables, a thick loaf of flakey sourdough bread, a bowl of warm broth, and much more. Tiana’s eyes gleamed like a set of constellations, reaching for the shimmering rosé, examining the bottle. It was non-alcoholic.

“If you would have told me,” Tiana says, peeling the foil back and rolling the top, “I could have brought the good stuff.”

Nanami raised a brow. “Good stuff?” Nanami gives a light chuckle, finally making his own plate. His eyes go from the bottle to Tiana’s mischievous look. “When did you start liking the ‘good stuff’?”

Tiana sucked her cheeks in, slightly embarrassed. She couldn’t tell him that it was all to chase the same warmth from that night in the cabinet, but no matter how many glasses she downed or flavors she tried, no matter how many cups of hot chocolate she made, she could never replicate it.

Maybe it just had to be with Nanami.

After pouring their glasses, they did a silent toast, a strange air drifting about that even the wind couldn’t blow away. Tiana twirled her fork in her pasta tediously, trying to think of something to say. She was the one who made them stay. Maybe they should have gone home.

“Well, I’m glad I didn’t pick the beach…” Nanami mutters, and Tiana lets out a giggle behind her glass.

“So,” Nanami continued, swirling his cider. “I’m guessing you’re not looking forward to the company’s summer island getaway?” A small smile prods his lips. Tiana’s head falls, cringing slightly.

“Yeah, no…” She says sincerely. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“You just seemed so excited about it.” Tiana picks up a skewer. “I didn’t want to get in the way of your plans.” She slid a slice of squash off the rod into her mouth; it was seasoned to perfection.

“And why would you get in my way?” Nanami bites into his carved fruit. Tiana raises a brow, pointing her bare skewer towards Nanami in a threatening manner.

“Nanami, I know you.” She waves the sharp end at him. “If I had told you earlier, you would have changed the whole trip to fit my needs.”

“Is there something wrong with that?”

Tiana playfully rolls her eyes, sighing. “Nanami, do y’all normally change the trip based on what one person prefers?”

Nanami shrugs. “Everyone is allowed to have input.” He pops a round of sushi in his mouth, muttering. “And it’s okay if some opinions are louder than others…”

“Nanami, that’s not fair.” She lectures him.

“Well…”

“You didn’t show me favoritism then, so don’t start now.”

Nanami scoffs, playing as if he were offended as he pointed to himself. “I haven’t done anything-”

“Yet.” Tiana cuts in. “I new you would get like this.”

“But I care about you.” Nanami says. “And this is different than before, because now I’m your-”

Nanami’s mouth snaps shut like a bear trap.

Tiana blinks rapidly, leaning in as she squints her eyes and purses her lips.

“You’re my-?”

“What?”

“You were about to say something. That you were something to me. You’re my what?”

“I didn’t say…anything…” Nanami’s face bloomed like the reddening sky.

“Say what you were going to say.” Her face was coy, nose turned up like the snout of a fox. But her voice was so warm; cozy like sitting next to a firepit on the night of a blue moon. She nudged him gently with her finger. “Say it.”

“I-” Nanami cleared his throat. Maybe the pollen was getting to him, making his throat tickle and strain.

“Come on…” Tiana leans in, batting her eyelashes sweetly, her fingers drawing loops on his knee. She was taunting him, yanking him along by the scruff of his neck. “You're my…”

“Boyfriend.”

Nanami felt like a child who had mindlessly blurted the answer out in the middle of an exam. All he could do was stare at the blanket until he gathered enough courage to look at her with low eyelids and inflamed cheeks. He looked so nervous, as if waiting for Tiana’s rejection. But when she said nothing, he assumed that maybe he hadn’t been clear enough for her to understand.

“I’m your boyfriend.”

The word rattled in Tiana’s head, and she found her face sparkling like the 19th of June. She didn’t mean to make Nanami repeat himself, nor did she mean to leave him silently pouting as he waited for her to say something back, but she couldn’t help but bask in the word. She never technically had a “boyfriend”. Her prom date asked out of desperation, and she declined. Naveen used the word once or twice before slipping a ring on her finger and jumping straight to wife. It sounded so nice rolling off of Nanami’s tongue. For the first time, she felt as if she truly had him.

And she wanted to let him know that he had her as well.

“You look so serious.” Tiana giggled, leaning into him to hide her face. She could feel his heartbeat through his forearms; he really wore his heart on his sleeve, and it made him so easy to read.

“Because I am.” It was almost a whine.

“And I’m...your girlfriend.” Her voice grew small, and she felt she no longer had the right to tease Nanami when he stated his declaration out so confidently. She leaned into him more, trying to deflect. “The title sounds kind of childish, right? Silly?”

Nanami swallowed. “I don’t know…”

But that’s because he couldn’t help but yearn for a higher title, but that wouldn’t be for a while. They both wanted to enjoy this stage to its fullest. Nanami still didn’t want to push her too far, and Tiana wanted to take her time. She couldn’t help her caution, considering how quick things went with Naveen. If anything, Nanami has taught her that it was fine to take her time, and he never made her feel bad about it.

They eat a bit more, easing into a silence that was much more comfortable as they alternated feeding each other and themselves. Gentle strokes of the hand against bare skin, and soft kisses scorched into flesh as the sun laid down to rest beneath a red duvet. The sound of the water lapping at the grassy bank, the chirp of cicadas, and the crooning of birds created a soft chorus of music for them both to enjoy. Packing up their leftovers and sanitizing their hands, Nanami finds solace in Tiana’s lap, and she threaded her fingers through his hair. She kneaded his scalp, watching his eyes flutter close every so often.

“Your hair’s been getting so long lately.” Tiana said.

“I haven’t had time to cut it. Maybe next week…”

“Don’t cut it yet.” Tiana said, twirling her fingers through his strands. She was mesmerized by the golden threads. Something about them was familiar. “I like how long it’s gotten.”

Another moment of silence filled with soft breathing and the sway of grass.

“I definitely lost the bet.”

Tiana looks down at Nanami, him looking back to her with a smile littered with defeat. She shakes her head, dark curls shading Nanami.

“Oh, no. You definitely won.” She chuckles, smoothening his hair. “By a landslide. I lost.”

“You’re just trying to make me feel better.” Nanami nudges Tiana’s thigh with the back of his head as he tries to get a better view of her. She looked so gorgeous from this angle as she pushed dark ringlets behind her ears, her skin smoldering after being charged by the sun’s rays.

“I swear I’m not. I’m telling you the truth.” Her words come out in between broken laughs.

“Yeah, okay…” Nanami grunts. Tiana slides his glasses back up, tracing the curvatures of his nose. “I lost fair and square.”

“I don’t think so.” Tiana said, her fingers brushing strands out of his face so she could admire him properly. “But I still want to know what you thought about me.”

“Even though you said I won?” The corners of his mouth twitched.

“We can compromise.” Her voice curved like the harmonies in a song. “We’ll call a truce. I’ll go first to make things fair.”

“I’d love to hear this.” Nanami shuffled a bit, folding his hands over his abdomen, waiting patiently for Tiana to share her observations. “Well, Ms. Tiana, what did you think of me back then?”

“Well…”

Tiana’s face burned. This was kind of embarrassing now that she had made it this far.

“And you want my honesty?” Tiana chittered nervously, and Nanami couldn’t help but laugh. He slid the fabric of her dress up slightly, pecking her exposed knee before resting his head back down on her lap.

“There’s no judgment, I swear. Which means you can’t judge what I say either.”

“Alright…” Tiana huffs, pursing her lips. She closes her eyes as she recalls a time before this. A lonelier time.

“I thought…” She sighs, leaning over Nanami with a look of fondness. “I thought that you were a stereotypical, one dimensional, stuck up businessman who was too nosey for his own good.”

A beat of silence.

“Wow.” Nanami’s eyes were widened a bit, eyebrows raised in surprise with the rush of words that Tiana allowed to fall from her mouth. But it was all in good fun, so he gave a quiet chuckle, nerves bustling through him. “Tell me how you really feel.”

“Stop!” Tiana’s hands flew to her face, shocked at how quickly those words came and went. “You said you wouldn’t judge!”

“I’m not! I’m not.” Nanami says, laughing. “It…honestly makes sense looking back.” He clicks his tongue to the roof of his. “I don’t necessarily blame you.”

“That’s not all.” Tiana said, dropping her hands in defeat, looking towards the horizon. She felt her heart soften, and her demeanor became serious. “Nanami, you scared me. And I don’t mean in a threatening way, you have never made me feel unsafe, but…I was so scared to actually get close to you.”

“I was scared to be friends, I was scared to lean on you; I feel like I haven’t had a genuine relationship with anyone in a long time. Platonic or romantic.” She looks down to him. “My circle has gotten so small, and I was too afraid to expand it past what and who I already know. I was too scared to care about anyone else because I would always be at risk of losing them. And when…when I started…developing these feelings for you, I was terrified-” Her voice gets caught in her throat, but she clears it quickly. “I was…terrified that you would never be your own person when you were with me. I didn’t want to do that to you, I couldn’t, and I won’t. You’re too precious to me. And…I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

Nanami clutched his hands around his shirt.

“Being with you is a breath of fresh air. You’re the deviation I’ve needed, no, wanted for so long. You helped me find my compassion again. You showed me that it’s okay to care. It’s okay to put your all into something because it will always bear fruit if you nurture it enough. There will always be something to return to. You…you showed me that just being here, alive, and in the moment is enough. I don’t have to lament about my past anymore. I can move forward, because you gave me something to look forward to.”

Tiana didn’t realize she was crying until she saw a tear splatter on Nanami’s cheek, rolling down to his ear. But he didn’t wince or whine, he just raised his hand, gently wiping at her face with his thumb. He didn’t dare interrupt her. It was obviously bubbling out of her.

Tiana sniffled. She wasn’t sad at all, if anything she was relieved she could finally give him reassurance. She felt better finally getting this off her chest. Even if she couldn’t verbally say those three words, she could at least give him this. She didn’t want this relationship to feel one sided. She didn’t want to be the only one to benefit from this.

“I prayed…” Tiana nudged his hand. “And prayed, and prayed some more. For second chances. For a new life. For revived ones. And I thought they went unheard for years. And then you found me, Kento Nanami.”

“You, Kento Nanami, you are my second chance. You are my new life. I’m sure of it. You saved me. You’ve been there- even when I refused you, you were still within arms reach. You gave me your heart, unbarred.”

She grabs his hand, kissing it quickly, and cradling it to her face.

“And you will forever have mine.”

Nanami’s breaths were quick and shallow, and he too began to produce tears, but for other reasons.

He felt undeserving of a confession so beautifully spoken.

He laid there, staring up at her, both sets of eyes as dewy as morning grass, and within the silence a strange electrical current sparked.

“Well, don’t just stare at me.” Tiana sniffled, her eyes searching for his own, shyness creeping up on her having been the only one to vomit out her own heart. “Say something.” She whispered. “What did you think of me, Nanami?” She paused, her voice light.

“Did you think we’d end up here?”

“I did.”

“Yeah?”

“I knew you on paper first before anything, so it seems a bit unfair.” His voice was low as he massaged her hand, trying to knead away his guilt. He thought of his conversation with Lottie that got him here, how Lottie had originally described her. “Hardworking and proud.” He thinks it over. “Maybe a little stubborn.”

Tiana giggles. “I was.” She thinks it over, rolling her eyes playfully. “Am.” She corrects herself.

“Sometimes a pain in the ass to clean up after.” Nanami chuckled, Tiana playfully swatted at him, but laughing herself because it was definitely true.

“You just…intrigued me. From the start.” Nanami admitted. “You were a mystery, or rather, everything around you seemed to be some colluded riddle that everyone understood except me.”

“I told myself…” Nanami hummed. “That I was just doing my job, getting to know you, making you comfortable because that’s what I was supposed to do. But really, that was an excuse to pacify my own curiosity. And soon…soon I just wanted to be around you more. Get to know you more. I didn’t mean to, it happened so fast I don't even think I blinked, but it did happen and not once have I ever regretted it. Even if it wasn’t the most conventional. Before I knew it, those small moments; running into each other in the store, or only speaking in passing, it couldn’t satisfy me anymore.”

“I wanted to be with you all the time. See you all the time. Be near you all the time.”

He paused, taking a hard swallow. “I wanted to care for you all the time, make sure you were okay. I know you can handle your own; you’ve been doing that, you don’t need me. I haven’t been that great at it, and…I apologize for it. But you could have found solace in anybody, and you chose me. It's just so...crazy to me that I got just that lucky in this lifetime. And that luck fed me for months. That feeling…it was almost insatiable.”

“I found myself hoping you felt the same. All that time spent thinking of you, I too prayed and pleaded that you spent even a fifth of that time thinking of me. Even if I happened to be just a fleeting thought, that would be enough. At least I was on your mind.”

Tiana’s heart quickened, and she took a hard swallow. She cupped his face, cherishing the way the sun’s last flicker of life caught in his blonde locks and lashes. How his eyes held nothing but adoration, looking to her as if Tiana was the embodiment of life itself.

He didn’t need to say it for her to understand. She was loved. She only hoped she mirrored the same impression.

“How long have you felt like this?”

Nanami ponders for a second, memories striking through his mind. Was it now, after finding comfort in the swell of her thighs? Was it the moment they first kissed? Maybe the night of their first argument? The night he saw her in that gown? The afternoon of the first snow when white flurries dotted her hair like a halo? That night, which seemed ages ago, when they walked the streets of Sendai after a round of sugared-up alcoholic drinks? The night of the roof, when they finally seemed to really see each other? Possibly the day when she stepped off the plane?

No, it was before then.

One memory stands out from the rest, when Lottie first made the suggestion of Tiana working under him, and how he shot her down immediately. That strange tug in his heart he had felt then, and sometimes felt now whenever Tiana so much as looked in his direction. Maybe it was some form of premonition at the time. Maybe he should have given into the tug the first time.

So Nanami chuckles, his ears tinged pink as the most banal statement befalls his lips.

“I guess…since I first heard your name, I knew.” Nanami looked at her with sincerity, hoping she wouldn’t laugh, and she didn’t. She hung onto every word. “I knew that I would love you. And I do, Tiana. I love you.

A sound akin to a hiccup pops through Tiana’s chest.

“And you don’t have to say it back right now, tomorrow, hell, even in the next year. You don’t have to say it back to prove something to me. I can tell by the way you look at me, I understand how you feel. I hope that one day you feel secure enough to confide those words in me that reside in your heart.”

Tiana’s bottom lip quivered, and all Nanami could do was chuckled, massaging her leg in an act of comfort.

Tiana wished she could say it back at this moment. She wished she could say something equally poetic or meaningful after a confession like that, a disclosure so gut wrenching it tore through her in a way that was unreal. She felt like clay that had been baking in the oven for too long, seconds from exploding and shattering into a million glittering pieces. Her heart pounded, and she wondered if Nanami could hear it.

Tiana sniffles again, exhaling a shaky breath. It was no longer warm. It was hot, too hot. And if Tiana were being honest, she was burning up for a much more vulgar reason than the current situation seemed to warrant. She fanned at her face, simultaneously drying her damp eyes and cooling her inflamed skin.

“Are you okay?” Nanami pushed himself up on his elbows, his face inches from hers. Tiana’s face felt scorched, so she backed up a bit, scared that Nanami would be able to pull the thoughts from behind her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, I just…” Tiana looked the other way for a moment, trying to gather herself. She turned back to him, pressing a kiss on his cheek, purposefully avoiding his lips.

“This was perfect.” Her breath tickles Nanami’s face as she whispers, and Nanami feels a shiver run down his spine. “You’re perfect. My big softie.” She finalizes.

“That…wasn’t weird?” Nanami asks, a bit shy himself, or more so awkward for his own personal reasons. Reasons that had him sitting up straight with his legs bending towards him.

“God, no.” Tiana exasperates. “Far from it.”

Tiana looks towards the boats that sway gently swayed in the waters, street lamps popping on and buzzing with a soft orange color.

“We can go paddling another time.” Tiana suggests.

“Will you be up for it then?”

“I’ll be fine.” She turns to him, biting the inside of her cheek. “Because I won’t be alone.”

“And you promised not to let me fall in.”

The tension on the car ride back to Tiana’s place was suffocating, no matter how low the windows sat. The sensuality of it all was almost palatable. Neither could stand the sound of the other’s voice without becoming completely undone at the seams. So they sat there in silence, fidgeting in their seats as they attempted to show some restraint.

Tiana didn’t know what to do with herself. They had only officially started dating a little over a week ago, even if there were hints of intimacy before they slapped a title on it. Tonight was such a huge step forward in how they conversed with each other, and they both had opened up so much. But it was so very clear what subject was lingering in the air, despite either of them ever discussing it amongst themselves.

Sex.

Tiana fanned at her face once, twice, then three times. God, she was a goddamn adult. She shouldn't be blushing so much over something that was a natural human activity, but there was so much to consider.

Of course, relationships weren’t all about sex. Some people mutually agree no to engage in it at all, and some relationships can be centered around it. It was personalized to that couple, or those partners, and that’s what made it intimate. That's what made it special, and their alone. The proper communication was what made it precious. And Tiana, who didn’t engage in sexual acts until after she got married, would be lying if she said sex wasn’t one of the most pivotal parts in her life, or her relationship. Sex for her was personal, an exploration of anatomy and compatibility. It wasn’t something she wanted to have casually because of how her heart was nurtured. She knew she couldn’t give herself to someone like that unconditionally and not want something in return. But she couldn’t help but wonder if Nanami felt the same way.

In the bedroom, secrets were shared under satin sheets between melded bodies. She knew Nanami, but if she did this, she would really get to know Nanami, and never be able to unlearn him. She pondered about his dating history, not that she could judge since she was the only two out of both of them that had been married. But had he never married before because he only had casual relationships? What was the longest relationship he had entertained before her? Or did he have flings?

God, curiosity was eating her alive.

And that curiosity led to fleeting anxiety because Tiana hadn’t been sexually active since Naveen’s passing. Hell, she couldn’t even touch herself, especially after carrying a child, because she just couldn’t see her body like that anymore. She couldn’t find the sexual appeal, not to mention any thoughts of Naveen would send her into hysterics and would dampen the mood.

But she would be fibbing if she said she hadn’t thought of Nanami in that way, she just couldn’t go through with acting on those thoughts, as tempting as they were. Sometimes she’d focus too much on the crinkle of his eyes, or his pink lips, the mold of his hands on her body, or even the times his hair was a mess; she almost lost herself so many times before. She doesn’t think she’d be able to honestly look him in the eye if she did something like that, but it made her inquire if Nanami had thought of her in that way as well.

Hell, it was hot.

Tiana’s body seemed to be reacting to Nanami in a way that she forgot it could, and it scared her. It felt as if she had been possessed.

And when they pulled up to her house, even she was surprised by the way she asked her next question.

“Do you wanna come inside?”

It was as if the words had been shelled in candied honey, and Nanami struggled to swallow them. Tiana didn’t wait for an answer, just slid out the car, her dress that had been bunched at her thighs falling back down. She gently closed the door, strutting to the trunk and grabbing the basket of goods so they could be refrigerated properly. She continued, swaying up the stairs in a hypnotizing fashion, Nanami watching as he gripped the steering wheel.

“Calm down.” He huffed, unbuckling his seatbelt. “She didn’t mean anything else by that statement. Just…go upstairs.”

So he did, but he didn’t go into her home, instead spoke to her from outside with her door swung wide open. He could hear her putting stuff into her fridge and cabinets. So he starts rambling to ease the discomfort in his pants.

“I hope you enjoyed the date.” He says. “We can go again anytime you like.”

A cabinet shuts abruptly in response, causing Nanami to jolt.

“Speaking of, we should really go driving again. But whenever you want to, no pressure.”

Tiana couldn’t hear him at all, it was as if swabs were sticking out of her ears. Her hands shook as she battled with what she should or shouldn’t do. She walked back up to Nanami who stood rigidly outside her door like a statue. One glance and she knew he felt it too, but then he started avoiding her eyes.

Nanami swallowed, right outside the lion’s den. He knew once he stepped in, it would be a wrap for him. He could only keep himself off of her for so long. He had better take his leave now.

So, he pats his pockets anxiously, clearing his throat, Tiana standing in front of him with alluring eyes.

He shouldn’t.

“Well,” His voice trembles as he rocks on his heels, preparing to pivot. “I think I should g-”

Tiana grabs his collar, yanking him down to her lips as if they were a crisp apple and her name was Eve, eager to explore a level of sin unbeknownst to her. Nanami grunted in surprise, but fell into the animalistic pattern, feet scuffling inside the building as he clumsily kicked the door closed, his large hands encapsulating Tiana’s heated face after fumbling with the lock. His eyelids pinched together, and they tumbled out of their shoes, tripping over them in the process. Noses knocked, and Nanami’s glasses fogged as they irritatingly pushed against Tiana’s face, impeding their movements. She huffed, parting from him temporarily to slide them off, but Nanami’s lips demanded to be on Tiana’s body. He cupped her jaw, lips searing into her neck as his other arm scooped her up, wading them backward into the island counter. It caught Tiana off guard so badly that a nervous “oh” brushed past her lips, along with a rush of giggles.

It shocked her, to say the least, so much so that her breathing stopped.

Maybe it’s because she hadn’t done anything like this in a while and she had gotten rusty, but dammit, what did that make Nanami? Was he just naturally good at this? Or maybe, he just wanted her that badly?

Her heart stopped.

“I…I-” She tried to speak between kisses, but Nanami caught each protest in his mouth and chewed on her words. It felt as if he were drunk on her presence alone, the dipping feeling in his gut put him in a state of delirium; he was losing his mind, and he was happy to do so as long as he lost it to her. Tiana began to grip his shirt, threateningly so, pinching a bit of skin as she grappled for his attention.

It took everything in him to pull away from her, searching her face with concern as he too tried to catch his breath.

“You okay?” He panted, cupping her face and examining her dewy eyes. Why was he making her cry again? Did he go too far?

“I’m…sorry…” She heaved, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her forehead nudging his chin in shame. She couldn’t look at him. “I couldn’t…breathe…”

“I’m sorry, love.” Nanami wrangled her in tightly, probably stopping her from breathing as deeply as she should, but he needed to be connected to her somehow. He didn’t want to let her go.

Nanami kissed her forehead, then her eyelids, next her cheek, trailing all the way down to her jaw. Each time, Tiana huffed in response, biting her lip as her brows knitted together as if she were annoyed, but her body said otherwise. It curved into Nanami’s perfectly.

Tiana was scooped into his arms, head splayed on his broad chest as he carried her to her bedroom.

Tiana didn’t protest as Nanami pushed her door open gently, walked into the dark room and laid her on the bed as if she were the most precious jewel in the world. And to Nanami, she truly was.

Tiana just laid back, her eyes squeezed shut as Nanami hovered over her, heads butting as the slow and sensual kisses turned into something much more gaudy. Tiana pressed her knees together, thighs squeezing even tighter as Nanami’s hand trailed up her dress, skimming past her shorts, and to her abdomen. His fingertips dragged against her skin, and Tiana felt as if she had belly flopped onto the sun’s surface. Nanami flattened his palm gently, the center of his hand resting over an area with thick, raised skin, and Tiana’s stomach sucked inward. It felt as if her intestines had concave. And instead of those beautiful moans, Nanami was taken aback when he heard a sharp inhale, almost like a hiss.

Nanami honed in on her body language, the death grip on his shoulders, the trembling out of fear; he knew these patterns all too well. And it was enough to knock him into a state of sobriety. He pauses, raising himself off of her slightly.

“N…Nanami?” Tiana dizzily spoke, almost impatiently as she lifted herself onto her elbows to peer at him through the dark.

Nanami knows what’s bound to happen next. He knows what will happen if he tells Tiana not to push herself, then she will force herself to do this just to prove a point. And he doesn’t want her thinking he doesn’t want this, that he doesn’t want her, because of course he did. He needed her, and as embarrassing as it sounded, he had dreamed of this moment. But she would always come first, especially before his carnal desires.

So he nudges her forehead with his, exhaling slowly to reel himself in.

“I don’t have…I didn’t bring…”

And even if it was a convenient excuse, he was being honest. He hadn’t planned for the date to go this route, and it seemed kind of douchey to carry condoms around in his wallet like some sort of playboy. How would he even explain it to Tiana if she had ever found it? She'd probably think he was expecting something from her, or worse.

Tiana, who was at first under the impression that he had changed his mind, sighed heavily as she threw her head back onto her mattress. She thought at first that maybe, just maybe, she had come on much too strong, but this made much more sense. Of course Nanami would think like that. He didn’t know that Tiana was in a position where a piece of rubber wouldn’t make any difference for her, and she honestly didn’t know how to tell him. She chewed on her lip, her face contorting into that expression she usually did when she began thinking too hard.

“Tiana?” Nanami said breathlessly. “Are you okay?”

Should I tell him?

She lifts her head up again, her mouth attempting to form words she never dared to utter to herself.

“Nanami, I-”

But she stops herself. Exhaling again, her head drops back onto the mattress in defeat.

“I’m fine.”

Tiana heeds the warning. Maybe it was a sign that she should stop, that she wasn’t as emotionally ready as she thought she was. Maybe right now wasn’t the right time. Explaining that to Nanami would open a can or worms she herself wasn’t ready to acknowledge. And she didn’t want him to be disappointed in her.

“Hey,” Nanami pushed his nose against hers in a begging manner. “Tell me.”

“Ken, I’m alright.” Tiana reassured him with a whisper, and her endearing smile. “I promise you.”

How could she make a promise that was already broken?

And who was Nanami to judge?

While the tension dissipated, left in its place was passion, and Nanami would be damned if he made Tiana feel unwanted in this situation, or ever at all. So he dotted soft pecks on her face, rolling them over so that they were on their sides, facing each other. Tiana couldn’t stop the rush of giggles exuding from her, as they looked at each other with utmost compassion. Tiana was able to spot a bit of brown in Nanami’s eyes as they simmered down, their breaths synced as they inhaled each other slowly. Nanami looked so disheveled; his hair tousled about and clothes wrinkled. She could only imagine how wild her appearance was.

“Do you…” She muttered, her voice beginning to rasp. “Want some hot chocolate?”

Nanami knew she didn’t mean the regular kind.

“As much as I would love some,” Nanami chuckles, “I have to wake up early tomorrow for work.”

Tiana knew it couldn’t be helped, but she couldn’t stop the slight twinge in her heart.

“Stay the night. Please.”

Nanami doesn’t hesitate to answer.

“Of course.”

Nanami already had some clothes here, his stuff resided in her bottom drawer. The only thing he didn’t have was clothes for tomorrow, so he’d just have to suffer and wake up a bit earlier to pick them up from home. But he didn’t mind if it meant being with Tiana just a millisecond longer.

He shuffles up, quick to turn away from Tiana as he rummages through the drawer. Tiana pushes her hair back as Nanami scoops up his things, about to leave the room to the guest bathroom.

“Just use mine.” She says, turning on her bedside lamp. Nanami pauses for a moment, laughing under his breath before walking to her bathroom. He gives her an awkward nod before closing the door. Tiana waits for the sound of water spouting out, then the sound of the glass door rolling open then shut before flopping back on the bed. She grabs her pillow, screaming into it as she flails around, throwing a makeshift tantrum as her face burns like a Bunsen. And in the bathroom, Nanami stood under bone chilling water, his fists propping him up against the tile walls as he swore silently. Droplets rolled down his body in shivering waves. He refused to revel in debauchery when the woman of his affection was on the other side of the door.

Tiana laid sprawled on the bed for a moment, staring at the smooth ceiling, listening to the sound of running water. She hoists herself up, dress falling back into place as she walks toward her full mirror, staring owlishly at her appearance.

She uses the back of her hands to press underneath her chin.

I think I gained some weight, she thought.

She breathes in, then out, then in, hands meticulously gathering at the hem of her dress, slowly dragging it up her legs, past her shorts, and below her bust. She exposed her stomach, along with the textured cesarean scar that dragged below her navel, and if she dipped the band of her shorts down, she would be able to see the rest of it that turned that dark blemish into an upside down “T”. She traced the embossed flesh carefully, pressing her palm against her stomach to flatten the slight pouch.

He had felt it. She guaranteed that he did.

“Tia!”

The name causes Tiana to jolt, her ruffles falling back down, eyebrows pressed together in perplexity. Did he just call her “Tia”? He had never done that before. And with the way her stomach sank, she wished he hadn’t.

“Y-Yeah?” She answered.

“Can you grab my soap from the other bathroom?”

Tiana shakes off her inhibitions, trying not to think too much about that silly nickname. “Just use mine!” she calls back.

“I’m not sure I like the idea of smelling like-”

There’s a slight pause, then the sound of bottles knocking together.

“Vanilla and cocoa butter kisses?” He snorts. Tiana marches up to the door, a smile itching below her nose.

“Just use the soap, man! It is not that deep.”

“Okay, but don’t come at me for using too much-”

“A quarter sized amount, Nanami!”

Tiana hears him laugh, and rolls her eyes, walking back to her bed and plopping on it. She runs her fingers messily through her hair, sectioning it to cornrow it for the night.

As she finishes the last braid of four long ones down her upper back, Nanami comes out of the bathroom in a white tee and black boxers. He ran a towel rigorously through his hair as Tiana gathered her own nightwear; something much more modest than she would wear if it were just her by herself. Which was usually nothing.

“I’ll go dry my hair.” Nanami says, heading towards the door.

“You can stay.” Tiana suggests. “As long as you keep your hands to yourself.”

Nanami squints his eyes, a small smile creeping up his lips. He drapes the towel over his head. “Alright.

Tiana’s mouth skewed to the side, and she nodded her head towards her bed.

“Come on. I’ll dry your hair.”

Nanami raises a brow.

“But I thought you told me-”

“Shut up.”

“Yes ma'am.”

Tiana sits on her bed, Nanami sitting on the floor with his legs crossed with his head gently stationed between her knees. Tiana ran her dryer on low, running her fingers through his hair to fluff it out a bit. She puckers her lips, feeling the texture of his hair.

“Did you use my moisturizer?”

Nanami turns back to look at her sheepishly. “Only a quarter sized amount.”

Tiana deadpans, turning his head back to the front with an exasperated sigh. But slowly, Nanami’s head drifted elsewhere, following his eyes to the photos pinned on her wall, right above her nightstand. Tiana huffed, reliving memories from her childhood.

“You can’t keep your head still?” She chastises playfully, her eyes flitting to the pictures.

“I’ve always wanted to ask. Is that your prom photo?”

Tiana paused for a second, then continued to rake her fingers through his hair.

“Yeah…it is.”

“You look…beautiful.”

Nanami kept quiet after that, knowing that Tiana would share when she was ready. So with the slight shift of her weight, she explained a bit.

“My sister, Lottie and I, we weren’t allowed to have prom dates back then. So it’s a bit of a secret.” She chuckled, thinking back to that night. “Can I trust you with it?”

“I don’t know…” Nanami’s voice is low as he plays along. “I tell my girlfriend everything.”

Almost everything.

Tiana chuckles softly, the scent of vanilla warming the room. “Well, we kind of went on a whim. Ray and I were really close at one point…until we weren’t. Lottie went with her secret boyfriend, Travis, and she’s engaged to him now. Oh, if her daddy knew, he’d probably have the poor guy locked up in his cellar. Ray is…doing fine from what I hear..”

“Do you still-”

“Keep in touch?” Tiana paused her hands, leaning down to look at him. “Why, scared you’ll have some competition?”

Nanami was silent.

Tiana laughed, pressing a kiss on his forehead. “Don’t worry your pretty, blonde head. He and Lottie do the upkeep around my ma’s house since I’m not there. And even then, I don’t contact him directly. I don’t think I really have the strength to.”

Nanami leaned his head on Tiana’s knee. The way she dipped into that southern lullaby made him feel heavy.

“He did like me, but only because he had a hard battle with grief at a young age.” Tiana’s voice turned solemn. “His girlfriend passed, or rather, she disappeared and no one knows what became of her. I wasn’t close with her, we hated each other. People thought we would get along because we looked so much alike, but she was a feisty thing. I was more…reserved.” She chuckles, swirling patters into Nanami's head at this point. "I wasn't quiet, but I kept my circle small."

Tiana turns the blow dryer off, placing a hand on Nanami’s head in thought. It was warm.

“I didn’t understand Ray’s grief at the time. I hated him for it, because I felt like he was pushing it off on me. I felt like it put a rift between us, and I regret not saving him when I could. But, back then, I didn’t get it.”

Tiana pauses, eyes flitting down.

“Until I did.”

She chews on her lip, patting Nanami’s head. She didn’t mean for the tone to get so somber.

“Alright, I’m done.”

She swings her leg around his head, walking to the bathroom with a sense of urgency.

“Hey, Tiana.” Nanami called. She didn’t respond, just stood there with her things in her hand.

Nanami swallowed, running a hand through his hair.

“It’s not your fault.”

Tiana doesn’t respond, just walks into the bathroom, and shuts the door gently. Nanami sits there, staring at the photo, arm resting on his legs.

His phone rings from his jean pocket, and he gets up, walking towards the folded pile of worn laundry. He digs into his pocket, pulling his phone out, his face drooping into a frown. He waits until he hears the sound of running water from the bathroom before he slides his thumb across the screen, accepting the call. A call he had been dreading to receive.

Because somewhere in this beautiful lie he colluded, he himself forgot the harsh truth.

“Uncle.” He answers with a hard swallow.

When Tiana comes out of the steaming bathroom, a long t-shirt cascading down her body and a pair of boy cut shorts underneath, she notices that Nanami isn’t there anymore. She walks out of her bedroom door and down the hall to see Nanami sitting in the living room, watching the television on low volume. She blinks tiredly, adjusting her bonnet.

“You coming to bed?” She asks, and Nanami turns abruptly, as if he had been caught in an act.

“Yeah.” He says, but it feels chilled. “Just wanted to get some laundry done.”

Tiana nods, walking to the kitchen. Maybe she was overreacting, but one thing was for sure. She didn’t like this feeling. Not one bit.

Tiana does her best to quietly grab a cup, then reaches inside her fridge to grab a bottle of wine that was one sip from skimming the bottom. She huffs, pouring the rest into the cup quickly, then downs it in an attempt to get that warmth back. She sniffles, wiping her nose as it runs a bit, tossing the cup noisily into the sink.

“You alright?” Nanami calls.

Tiana places her hands on her sink, shaking her head.

“Yeah. Just needed some water.”

Nanami went into Tiana’s room after tossing his clothes into the dryer, her soft breaths murmuring through the dark room. He sets the door ajar as not to disturb her, and crawls in on the other side. The way they were laying, Tiana faced away from him, and because of his own guilt, he felt as if he were being shunned. He exhales, scooting closer with his eyes fluttering shut. But not even a second after, Tiana shuffled around to face him, his eyes meeting hers in the dark.

“I thought you were asleep.” He whispered.

“I couldn’t.” She whispered back, scooting closer. Nanami caught the faded scent of cherries. “I was cold.”

Tiana reaches under the covers, searching for Nanami’s hand, and successfully grabbing it. Nanami gave a low chuckle.

“I thought you told me to keep my hands to myself?”

“Shut up.”

Tiana took his hand and placed it on the small of her back, and Nanami took the liberty to pull her closer. Both their hearts hammered, and every few beats they would knock together at the same time. Nanami closed his eyes, savoring the sweetness of this moment as Tiana concealed her face in his chest, and he placed his chin on her forehead.

Because bitterness was bound to greet him in the morning.

When Nanami’s alarm went off at three in the morning, he didn’t budge not once. Nor did he at 3:05 am, 3:10 am, or 3:15am. So Tiana, tangled in his body, blindly reached for his phone to turn it off for the umpteenth time, her patience wearing thin as her sleep continuously got interrupted by the most obnoxious alarm choice.

“Nanami…” Tiana groggily called, poking his cheek. “Your alarm…you gotta get up…”

Nanami grunted, and simply wrapped his arms around her tighter, like a child refusing to get up for school.

“Nanami-” Tiana nudged him again, but he was conked out. Nanami was always difficult to wake up in the morning, but never to this extent. He must have been exhausted.

“And you did all that for me yesterday.” Tiana pushed some of his hair off his face. “If you knew you had to wake up early, you should have gotten some rest.” She pecks him on the nose, maneuvering from his strong grip. “But I appreciated it.”

After fighting Nanami for freedom in his slumber and silencing the rest of his alarms, she decided to let him sleep in. She brushed her teeth, the faint taste of wine on the back of her tongue. She then goes to her laundry room, grabbing his slightly wrinkled clothes and putting a nice crease in them with the iron. After hanging them on some spare hangers, she goes to the kitchen, laughing to herself as she hears his barbaric snores echoing through her home. She cooks a quick breakfast; some instant porridge with some of the leftover fruits from yesterday, and toasted sourdough. As she pours a thermos of to-go tea for him, she hears hushed swears and a bunch of loud footsteps which were begging to be a noise complaint. She screws the cap on the thermos, places a lid on his breakfast, and turns around with her arms folded.

“You awake, sleeping beauty?” Tiana calls as Nanami bursts into the kitchen with toothpaste staining the corner of his mouth.

“I’m gonna be so late, I don’t have time to change-”

“Woah, slow down, Kento. I gotchu.” Tiana says, flattening her palms on his chest to calm him down. “I ironed your clothes from yesterday. It’s not business attire, but it’s better than showing up wrinkled.” She said, wiping at the corner of his mouth.

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

“I tried.” Tiana said matter-of-factly. “Multiple times. But, you looked like you needed the rest. So…I let you sleep in.”

Nanami wanted to protest, but he couldn’t find a good reason to. And she went out of her way to make sure he was set to sail. He ought to be grateful. So he places a quick, minty kiss on her cheek.

“I’m sorry, love. Thank you.” He says quickly, grabbing his clothes and popping back into her room to get dressed. Flutters erupt in her stomach. It was the same silly nickname he used yesterday.

Nanami pops out of the bedroom, adjusting his collar. Tiana has his breakfast on the island counter waiting on him, next to his glasses. She slides them onto his face gently, a small smile on her lips. His hair wasn’t styled back as it usually was, and he looked so handsome. She couldn’t help but gaze at him.

“Have a good day at work, okay?” She says, smoothing his clothes.

“I’m sorry you’re up earlier than you’re supposed to be.”

“It’s fine. I don’t have to go in until noon. I can get more sleep.”

If only she knew that Nanami purposely set her day up that way.

Nanami chews on his lip, and Tiana catches something desperate in his eyes. And before she could properly process it, his lips were on hers.

“Nanami-?” Tiana giggled, a bit confused as he pushed his body against her. Her words broke apart between the kisses. “You…have to…go…to work!”

“What if we continued where we left off last night?” He asked, but for some reason, his voice echoed with anguish. And when he pulled away from her to hear her answer, his eyes looked somewhat regretful.

“Nanami?”

He blinks once. Then twice. On the third one, he backs up, grabbing his things as he apologized profusely.

“I’m sorry. It’s much too early for that.” He said.

“It’s never too early. You’re just late.” Tiana pauses. “To work.”

Nanami nods. “Yeah. To work.”

He kisses her one more time, then takes his leave. Tiana watches from her doorway until he drives off into the dark, her fingers tracing her lips. That last kiss seemed to suck all the warmth from not only her body, but her home. At first she thought it was because Nanami had left her presence.

But in reality, Tiana has never had a kiss that tasted so lonely.

Nanami arrives at the office with just a few minutes to spare, catching quite a few people by surprise with how casually he was dressed. He ignores them, making his way to the elevator and pushing the button to the top floor. The elevator stops on floor five, Shoko walking in with her head glued to her phone. She looks up to throw a nod to whoever was her elevator buddy at the moment, but when she looks up, she realizes it’s Nanami. She raises a brow, popping a sucker from her mouth.

“What the hell are you wearing?” She bluntly asks. Nanami doesn’t even look her way.

“Don’t ask.”

Shoko just shrugs, going back to her phone. They ride the elevator up in silence, until it stops three floors before the top, Gojo loudly sliding in with a glazed donut in his hand, Geto only a step behind.

“Oh?” Gojo says, lifting his shades. “Oh, oh, oh?” He taunts the blonde, and Nanami grips his thermos.

“Can you shut up?” Nanami says, but Gojo just keeps talking.

“So Mr. CEO thinks he can dress however he wants now, huh? Starting the week off strong, I see.” Gojo tilts his head as the doors slide closed, the carrier lurching up.

“I was running a bit late.”

“Late? The Nanami Kento, running late? That’s unheard of.” Gojo teases, stepping even closer. “You must have had a puh-ret-ty busy night.”

“Nothing happened last night.” Nanami quickly defends himself, and realizes he said way too much than he should have. Gojo gives a fake pout, blue eyes wide as he looks at Nanami over his circular rims.

“Aw, didn’t get any?” Gojo mimics a whine, and Nanami clenches his jaw. “Is that why you’re so wound up tight this morning?”

Shoko smacks the back of his head as the doors slide open, throwing his head forward.

“Ow?” He chirps, looking at Geto. “Babe, defend me! I just got assaulted!”

“Better her than me. You deserved it.” Geto says, walking out of the elevator. Shoko walks past him, running her shoulder into his side.

“Quit it. We’ve got work to do.” She says. Gojo rolls his eyes, giving a melodramatic salute.

“Aye, aye, Captain Killjoy!”

They walk out of the elevator, and Nanami beelines to Shoko’s office. She sat in her swivel chair, spinning to her desk and immediately starting on the small stack of papers in front of her. Nanami had never known her workload to be this miniscule.

“That was kind of out of character for you.” Nanami says at the doorway, leaning his hip on the frame. Shoko looks up at him with a look of indifference.

“And the way you were acting this morning wasn’t?” She shot back, and Nanami folds his lips in. She looks at his attire, then the breakfast that was packaged with care. His whole demeanor had changed so much in the past year. He was almost unrecognizable.

He was happier. And Shoko hadn’t seen him this radiant in years.

“As my new boss, shouldn’t you want me to work harder?” She quips, and Nanami nods in agreement.

“You’re right.” He says, pushing himself off the door. “I’m sorry for disturbing you.”

He turns to leave, but Shoko calls out to him again.

“Hey, Nanami.”

He returns, eyebrows raised.

“You’ve gone soft.” She deduces. Nanami just nods, smiling as if he got caught.

“Yeah.” He admits. “I know.”

Shoko returns the smile, clicking her tongue.

“I like it. Now, get to work, Mr. CEO.”

Around ten, one of the front desk employee’s popped their head into Nanami’s office, a dark curtain of black hair cascading down her shoulders with dark bangs to match.

“Uh, Nanami-sama?” She asks hesitantly.

“Yes, Utahime?” Nanami says, looking up from his desktop.

“Aren’t you late for your 10 o’clock with Mr. La Bouff? The ‘Baron’ guy?”

Nanami checked the clock on the wall, then his wristwatch.

“Actually, I was just about to call him. He should be here by now, yes?”

“Well, no.” She says, staring at her tablet with Nanami’s intense schedule. “You were supposed to meet him at the other site. Your office in Shibuya?”

Nanami swears under his breath. How could he forget a detail so important? He had purposefully set this day up so that he wouldn’t step foot on this site.

He couldn’t let Tiana run into him.

Nanami jolts up, grabbing his keys. “Call The Baron and tell him not to leave.” The drive would take about an hour, and that’s only if he got lucky enough. “I’m on my way.”

“No need, Mr. CEO.” The door pushes open to reveal a slick grinned Gojo and a heavyset man with a head full of ginger colored hair and a curled mustache to match. “I ran into him on a run and thought it would be less time consuming if he just met you here! Glad I came up with the idea.”

Nanami’s nostrils flared as Eli trotted into the room, adjusting his vest as he looked up at the tall, lanky man.

“Er, yes. Thank ya, uh…whadya’ say yer name was again?”

“Satoru Gojo, at your service.” He said with a pretentious bow. He grabs Utahime’s shoulder, and she yelps in surprise.

“Well, you guys probably have a lot of macho manly stuff to talk about, so I’ll leave you be!” Gojo says, pulling a protesting Utahime out of the door. Eli doesn’t waste any time, turning to Nanami with wide arms and a baritone voice.

“Nephew!” He booms, and Nanami shushes him quickly, striding to the door and slamming it closed. He prayed no one heard his declaration.

"Oh, well sorry!” He chortled. “I forgot you’re so secretive ‘round here.”

He waddles over to the couch, plopping down onto the dark cushions, not paying Nanami any mind as he fumes over to him.

“Uncle, I told you not to come here.” He strained. “People here talk, you know?”

“Ahhh, phooey!” Eli brushes his comment off with his large hand. “Who the hell cares! Just fire ‘em!”

Nanami blows through his nose, pinching the bridge. “Uncle, I’ve worked really hard to get here, so if you could just…”

Eli tuts his tongue, clapping his palm loudly on Nanami’s back, so hard that he jolted forward.

“Ah, I’m sorry, neph.” Eli hums in repentance. “I’m jus’...so damn proud of ya, you know that? If only yer mom and pops could see ya now!” He gives Nanami a once over, then tilts his head in confusion. “Well, maybe not now, now. What the hell ‘er you wearin’?”

“Ah, well I-”

“And yer hair!” He flips one of Nanami’s strands. “It’s gotten long, have you thought about a haircut?”

Nanami’s blood ran cold. “Well I-”

“Yer really lettin’ yerself go, neph!” His voice booms even louder, and Nanami prays no one is walking by. “What’s that tall, lanky, white haired feller’s name? Jogo?” Eli botched the name without a care in the world. “He seems like a fine guy. But them eyes…” Eli shuddered, blubbering his lips as if he had been possessed. “They colder than a baboon’s ass out in the middle of the arctic. He don’ need to be in charge of nuthin’!”

“Uncle.” Nanami’s voice is sharp, and Eli falters a bit, before elbowing Nanami in his side.

“I’m jus’ joshin!” Eli says, chuckling. “Charlotte hates when I talk like this around her, especially with the baby comin’. And her fiancé Travis, as nice as he is, he can be a bit soft and I-”

“Uncle.” Nanami interrupts him, giving him a stern look. “We should really talk about the shares. That’s why you’re here, right?”

Eli boomed with laughter, waving Nanami’s comment away again. In the midst of his obnoxious laughter, Nanami swears he hears shuffling at his door. He wonders if Gojo was still lingering around. If he heard them, everything would be over for him.

And if Tiana heard anything from Gojo…

“Shares? Boy, you know that was a bullshit excuse to write this trip off for taxes.” Eli wiped a tear from his eye. “You should really try it sometime.”

“Then what else is there to talk about right now, on company time? We could have gone to lunch.” Nanami’s voice waned, because he knew why Eli was really here. He just didn’t want to comply.

“Have you met Tiana yet?” Eli asks, and while his lips were curved into a grin, his eyes looked a bit threatening. Nanami swallowed thickly. Tiana, like Charlotte, was obviously his pride and joy.

“I haven’t. Not yet.” Nanami spoke quietly. A lie so bold it was its own typeface.

“She’s been here for ‘bout a year now!” Eli waved his arm around. “You tellin’ me you ain’ run into her at least once? It’s kinda hard to miss her in this, er…environment.”

“I’m sure I have.” Nanami tried to keep his face expressionless. “I’ve just been a bit busy.”

“And that’s why I’m here.” Eli patted Nanami’s knee. “Shit, call her up and I can introduce her to ya’ myself!” He was overcome with a look of nostalgia. “Oh, I haven’t seen my lil’ lilypad in ages! She’ll be so surprised to see me here-”

“Yeah, ecstatic.” Nanami said sarcastically. “But she’s not here right now. She had a half day.”

Eli purses his lips, squinting at Nanami with a fiery gaze. “Yer too busy to talk to her, yet know her schedule ‘fer the day?”

Nanami stayed silent, and he heard more shuffling at the door.

“Ya’ know, I’ve never known a CEO to have trouble gettin’ a hold of one employee.” Eli let out a heavy breath, and Nanami gripped the armrest. “And I’m only saying that to be, quote on quote, ‘politically correct’ as you like to be ‘round here. She’s obviously ain’t like e’ryone else.”

“But hey, I get it, neph.” Eli throws his meaty hands up in defeat. “Yer tryna protect her, make sure you ain’t showin’ no favoritism. Yer keepin’ her safe in yer own way. I respect it. Yer a fair man. Ain’t a lot ‘a business men out there like that anymore.”

“But if Tia’s gonna possibly spend the rest of her life here, cause I hear she’s having a grand ol’ time, I wanna make sure it’s an easy one. She deserves it more than anyone in the world.” Eli shuffles on the cushion, throwing his arm behind the couch. “She needs to know she has someone in her corner here. And it’d probably be a lot less awkward at our family reunions!”

“I don’t attend those.”

“And you should! It’s been ages. Should be easier to get time off now, fer Tia too.” Eli let out a hearty chuckle that caused his belly to roll. “Hell, no wonder she ain’t got no time off to see Charlotte! All these damn half days she’s takin’.”

Nanami turned his head to Eli sharply.

“What do you mean?”

Eli lets out a roll of “ho-ho-ho’s” clutching his chest as if Nanami had said the funniest thing in the world. “Charlotte said Tia had no days off to come see or help her with the baby. She ordered me not to meddle, but now that her cousin is one of the big dogs, I thought maybe you could pull some strings. Be a lot easier if y’all came together. You could make it some sort of business retreat or somethin’.”

Nanami’s heart began to beat wildly out of his chest. Eli didn’t know anything.

But it wasn’t his place to tell.

“We had a few position changes lately.” Nanami’s voice came out raspy, and he tried to shake off his distress. “An employee took another position overseas and it’s left us understaffed in some areas. So yes, it is more difficult for long term vacation periods right now.”

“That’s why Imma make it easier for ya’.” Eli said, rubbing his hands together. “Imma just take you and Tia back with me. Who can say no to me?”

“No.” Nanami sliced his words up quickly, and it seemed to strike something within Eli with how taken aback he looked.

“And why the heck not?” Eli asked. Nanami let out a heavy sigh, trying to come up with some sort of excuse.

“There’s a lot of things that need to be done right now to prepare for new interns, and-”

“Intern, shmintern!” Eli said, not wanting to hear Nanami’s reasons for denying him. “Clear her schedule for the next few weeks, then bing, boom, pow! A lot of things turn to ‘no things’.”

“She just stepped into this position.” Nanami’s voice grew desperate. “It would be better to wait until she’s more secure.” Nanami began spouting whatever he could to deter Eli’s will. “I hear she’s getting ready to move-”

“Y’all will be fine.” Eli dismissed him again. “Just have someone else do it.”

“Uncle Eli, please.” Nanami begged, his voice cracking. Eli tongued his top row of pearls, sighing indifferently.

“You protectin’ the hell outta her.” Eli raised a thick brow, shaking his head.

“I am.” Nanami swallowed, shifting on the couch cushions to turn to his uncle. “Look, I’ll make a deal. I’ll help Charlotte out. I’ll leave a little earlier than I said I would. I can put in a few weeks off for Tiana due to a family emergency since it’s covered under foreign affairs, but only for after the baby is born.” Nanami settles, hoping Eli will stop pressing him afterwards. And if this blew up how Nanami knew it would, Tiana would need that month away.

Maybe a few, really.

Eli ponders on it, his thick brows wiggling as he looks back at Nanami. “Whatchu know about pregnancy?”

“Not a damn thing.”

“Lord, hammercy…” Eli threw his head forward. He turns his head to Nanami, a pitiful smile on his face. “Ya know when she finds out that yer the reason she couldn’t see Lottie’s baby, she’s gonna hate ya’ for good, right?”

Nanami felt as though he had swallowed a brick.

“I know.”

Eli slaps his knees once before hoisting himself up, trotting to the door.

“Alright, fine.” Eli adjusts his vests again, pulling out a thick pocket watch and checking it. “The baby is supposed to be due mid-May, which is about five weeks from now. But if her baby is as impatient as she is, then it’s really a coin toss.” Eli rubbed his temple.

“I can be there in a little over a week.” Nanami interjects. “Gives me time to get my affairs in order.”

“Alright, neph.” Eli gives him another strong clap on Nanami’s shoulders. He gives him a proud look, a beaming smile that makes Nanami’s stomach lurch.

“Yer always going outta yer way for Charlotte. Yer a good man, you know that right?”

Nanami wanted to vomit up the breakfast that he didn’t deserve, prepared by the hands of someone who shouldn’t love him back.

Nanami stares at the tiled ground, clenching his jaw. “I’m…not so sure about that Uncle.”

After a slew of “goodbye’s”, “safe-travels'" and “see-you-soon’s”, Nanami shows Eli the way out, telling him that Utahime will arrange for his transportation back to his hotel.

As he stood there with the door open, he tapped his foot impatiently.

“Alright, come out.” He says to whoever was hiding behind his door. He half expected Gojo to pop out, but instead, it was none other than Shoko. Her arms were folded, and she had another sucker in her mouth. Compared to the look she gave him this morning, she looked utterly disappointed.

Nanami dropped his head, unable to look her in the eye as she spoke.

“Gojo was lurking about earlier.” She warned. “You’re lucky I caught him when I did.” She threw her head back as she took a deep inhale before looking at the solemn man. “As my boss, you can take this however you want, but Nanami? As my friend? What the actual fuck?”

Nanami picks up his hand, dropping it in defeat. He can’t find the right words to say, nor find a way to even begin a proper explanation.

“Wanna go for a smoke break?”

Shoko flared her nostrils, shuffling her feet before snatching the sucker out of her mouth. “I already did. I used my fifteen to walk around trying to find the right damn flavor. You know I’m trying to quit.”

Nanami doesn’t hear her. He looks up with the saddest, brown eyes Shoko has ever witnessed from him. He didn’t even look this sad when Haibara’s body was found.

“Wanna take another one?”

They stood on the roof, elbows propped over the railing as Shoko took a long drag, blowing out into the warm April air. Nanami just stood there, completely dejected. Shoko was the first to speak.

“I know he’s your uncle and all,” Shoko says as smoke pours from her nose. “But that ‘baron’ guy is a real piece of work, ya know?”

Nanami didn’t say anything. Just stood there, staring at the bright blue sky, clouds dotting the atmosphere. How dare the day look so beautiful when Nanami felt so rancid? He wanted to spit on the ground, spite the earth, curse all its inhabitants, throw a fit, punch something, but he had no one to blame but himself.

Debts were due, and now he had to pay in full.

“Are we just gonna stand here, or…?”

Nanami turned to Shoko, nodding to the stick balanced between her fingers.

“Gimme one.”

Shoko choked out a laugh, fanning the smoke from her face to clear her watering vision.

“No.”

“Give it.”

“No.” Shoko said finally. “And I doubt your ‘lil’ lillypad’ would want to kiss someone with tar mouth.” She mocked, and Nanami dropped his head. Shoko kept talking, hoping her words wouldn’t fall on deaf ears.

“And you don’t need it.” Shoko said, waving it towards him. “This is for people with no other options.” She turns back to look at the skyline, taking another long drag. “I’ll give you one when you’ve lost all hope.”

“I have.”

“No you haven’t.” Shoko persists. “You still have a chance. You need to tell her the truth.”

“I can’t.”

“You can.”

“It’s not all my truth to tell.” Nanami’s voice raises a decibel, his frustration peaking. “I can’t…I can’t go back on my word. I made promises.”

Shoko shrugs, popping the cigarette from her mouth and putting it out on the concrete.

“Well you’re gonna have to break them. Or, you can let them break you.”

Nanami just swallows, turning back to that damned blue sky.

Shoko sighs, scratching the back of her head. “Look, Kento. I’m not good with advice, I can be a bit blunter than needed, and I’m terrible at sugarcoating things. But if you ever need me to just listen, I’m all ears. I can at least do that.”

Nanami doesn’t say a word.

He couldn’t face Tiana that afternoon, and when she called to ask if he was coming over and he declined under the notion that he was exhausted, she took it despite the pang in her chest. And the next day, when he skipped out on lunch with her because “something came up”, she swallowed that too. On Wednesday afternoon, she called him twice about helping her pack some stuff to move, and she was shell-shocked that she had to call twice at all, he would always pick up on the first ring. When he didn’t answer her, she shot him a text, her anxiety eating her alive with every short, sharp message she received.

Hey babe. Is everything okay?

Why wouldn’t it be.

Like…are we good?

Yeah, why.

This may sound crazy, but it feels like you’re avoiding me.

Why would I.

Tiana chewed on her bottom lip. Why did it start feeling like when they first met? They had finally made a breakthrough, and it felt like they just took a million steps backwards. She didn’t want to think of the worst case scenario. She didn’t want her mind to drift to unreasonable places. But something was going on, and it felt like everyone around her was in on it except her.

And when her worries got too chaotic, her thoughts would go back to the seed Gojo had planted in the back of her mind. How maybe, just maybe, she didn’t know him as well as she thought she did. She sighed, typing another message and sending it before she lost her nerve.

Is this about what happened Sunday night?

They never talked about it again, they never brought up the idea of sex or how they would continue their relationship if they decided to get physical. If anything, it felt like Nanami had gone cold turkey on her, rejecting her and any idea that seemed to be related. Despite the strange connection to the La Bouf’s, Tiana ignored that in favor of Nanami’s strange behavior. She wondered, deep down, if maybe Nanami had relieved his sexual frustration elsewhere. She wondered if he had cheated on her.

Bzzt!

She looked down to see a single-worded text from Nanami that didn’t relieve her unease at all.

No.

Honestly, she hoped he was cheating on her.

On Thursday morning, on her office desk was a vase of flowers. It shocked her, and people crowded around her office door gushing about her having a secret admirer. Tiana looked at the card attached to see no name, but a terrible doodle of a frog. Tiana frowned.

“I know who this is.” She muttered.

“You do? Then tell us!” Someone urged with excitement. But it soon died when they watched the woman grab the bouquet from its crystal vase, and toss the gorgeous arrangement into her trash bin. She didn’t want flowers. She just wanted to talk.

She wanted to see him.

She wanted to feel that warmth again.

That night, while wrapping some dishware into some old newspapers she used to use to practice her reading, she heard the doorbell ring. When she peaked out the peephole, she saw Nanami standing there with an even bigger arrangement of flowers, timidly running his fingers through his hair. She snatches the door open, her arms folded in irritation.

“Don’t you have a key?”

He swallows before responding with, “I’m sorry.”

Tiana lets her hands fall to her side, walking back to her moving boxes. She didn’t even bat her eyes at the new flowers, though a small part of her thought they were very lovely. She crouches down, returning her attention to her glass plates. “It’s fine, just use the key next time.”

Nanami continues to stand in the doorway.

“I’m sorry.” He says a little louder.

“I said it’s fine.” Tiana doesn’t bother looking up, growing more perturbed as the conversation continues. “What is with you today?” She says, placing the plate on her lap. “Actually, all week you’ve been-” She pauses when she looks back at Nanami, finally noticing that he still hadn't stepped inside. In fact, he looked sick, paler than a dying star.

“Nanami?”

Why did he look so remorseful?

“I’m sorry, Tiana.”

Tiana scrambled up, gently putting the plate in the box, and scurrying to him.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry for everything.” He rambled on, the flowers trembling in his hands. “For today, for yesterday. This week. This past year-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa-?” Tiana tried to pump his brakes, her heart thumping with fear. Apologizing for this week was one thing, and even then this was a bit much. Yeah, maybe she was acting out of emotions earlier when she threw away the first set of flowers, so he probably felt the need to go overboard. But apologizing for the past year? Hell, it hasn't even been a full year since they’ve met. What the hell did he do to have to apologize for 365 days worth of time?

“I’m sorry, Tiana. For everything I’ve done. And everything I am bound to do.”

“Nanami, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She placed her hands on his chest, her eyes searching for his solemn ones. “You’re scaring the hell out of me.”

Tiana hears a car door slam shut, followed by footsteps and the chatter of colleagues. She pulls Nanami inside, shutting the door gently with the palm of her hand. She turns back to him, continuing where she left off.

“Nanami, I don’t understand.” She walked up to him, grabbing the bouquet and placing it on the counter. She grabs his shoulders, squeezing them gently as he looks at him once over. “Make me understand.”

His head dropped in shame. Yet he still had the audacity to make a request.

“Can I…stay here tonight?”

Tiana frowned. He was dodging her.

“Can you…at the very least tell me what you did?” She tucked in her bottom lip for a moment. “What you’re gonna do?”

He didn’t respond. Tiana shook her head, lips forming a decline.

“Nanami, I don’t know-”

“Please, I swear I’ll tell you.” He begs, and Tiana feels her heart twist. “I swear, I just…need more time…”

Tiana blinks slowly, debating on whether she should tell him to leave or not. But she just couldn’t say no to him. Not now, not ever.

“First, let’s get one thing straight.” Tiana puts her hands up, her eyes scrunched. With each word she places them on his chest in a rough rhythm. “You can never, ever, do what you did to me this past week ever again. And I mean that. You can’t-” Her voice stalled as she got memories of Sunday. The exchange of words. How they almost exchanged bodies. “You can’t…do something like that with me and disappear for almost an entire week. You can’t, ever, be with me like that and completely ghost me. That’s…insanely fucked up.”

“I know-”

“No, you don’t know.” Tiana says. “Because if you did, if you truly did, you would have never done that. That…fucking hurt, Nanami. How am I supposed to trust you or anything you say if you turn around right after and treat me like that?

Nanami swallowed. There weren’t enough sorry’s he could say to fix this. There weren’t enough sorry’s to fix anything.

“Are we clear?’ Tiana’s voice had an edge to it, so sharp that it pierced Nanami’s heart. He nodded, but he couldn’t look her in the eyes.

She nods her head in return, squeezing his shoulders, then letting go. Her hands lingered a bit, but she looked so dejected. Not once did she say she forgave him, and not once did he expect her to.

“Are you hungry?” She asks, walking to the kitchen.

Here she was, still having enough heart to take care of him, when really he should be the one consoling her.

God, he had fucked up.

Nanami helped Tiana pack some of her things, not once opening up about whatever the hell he had screwed up, and Tiana waited. She waited, and waited, and waited, but to no avail. He didn’t provide her an answer, yet she still provided a space in her bed. On her balcony, she poured a glass of wine that threatened to flow over the rim, and downed it in record time. This artificial warmth kept her company these past few days since she couldn’t get it from Nanami, but it couldn't compare; it was an imitation copy that couldn't compare. Not only that, but she felt she needed a glass or three to get through the night without entering an emotional screaming match.

How could he do this to her? How could he speak to her in such a loving tone one day, and cut her off completely with his words the next? How could she go from craving his touch to not wanting to be near him at all? She couldn’t understand what went wrong in such a short amount of time.

After another glass that left her slightly disoriented, she went back into her home, placing the empty bottle in the trash, and trudging to her room. She hesitantly crawled into bed, and even when Nanami threw his arm over her in his sleep out of habit, she still felt lonely.

So cold.

This was a chill even alcohol couldn't dissipate.

In the wee hours of the morning, Nanami’s phone went off. Tiana, disoriented and irritated, peeled herself out of Nanami’s grasp to turn off what she assumed was an alarm, only to see the caller ID “Lots” with a pink bow emoticon next to it. She blinks, squinting as her eyes adjusted to the brightness of the screen.

“Huh?” She muttered, her head spinning as she tilted it in the dark.

She didn’t dare answer, just let it ring until the notification screen popped up, showing ten missed calls and three, four, five new messages and counting. Tiana looked at the corner of his phone, the time reading 2:27 am.

Who the hell could be calling Nanami at two in the damn morning?

With a name as coincidental as “Lots”?

Then another message appeared, this time from “La Bouf”, and Tiana could have shot straight into the ceiling. She couldn’t read it properly, something about a visit and a plane ride, her vision blurred the rest. All she had the strength to do was click on the contact information; she immediately recognized the number. It was the same ten digits as it’s always been. He had made sure to ingrain it in her memory, though she barely used it herself.

It was Eli La Bouf.

Tiana dropped the phone on Nanami’s face.

He shot up, startled, hands clenching the blanket that gave them both a false sense of security, rubbing his cheek. He licked his lips as his eyes shuffled around in their sockets, before they finally focused on petrified Tiana.

“Tiana…?” His voice cracked as he groggily rubbed his eyes.

“Your-” Her voice pitched. “Your phone was ringing, so…”

Nanami shuffled around the blankets, finally grabbing the device.

“So I tried to silence it…”

Nanami squinted at the screen, the brightness casting his silhouette overhead, towering over Tiana’s shivering body. Immediately, his eyes widened with awakeness. He shuffled out of bed, tossing the blanket to Tiana’s side, tapping away on his phone.

“I gotta-”

“Yeah…” Tiana choked. Nanami walks out the room quickly, phone to his ear, and Tiana swears she hears the voice of a woman. He shuts the door behind him, and Tiana crumples into her pillows.

Don’t cry, she thinks. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

Tiana was confused, her temples inflamed with a tension she couldn’t describe. Gojo warned her that their company dealt with the La Bouf’s for business. And if “Lots” was who she thought it was…

They wouldn’t, Tiana thought. They wouldn’t, they couldn’t. It was impossible. Nanami wouldn’t lie to me.

Tiana swallowed.

Lottie wouldn’t lie to me.

He had to be cheating.

She prayed that he was cheating.

She needed him to.

Gojo had to have been messing with her, trying to get in her head. That’s the only explanation she allowed herself to understand, and she didn’t want to think about it any further.

Tiana heard footsteps approaching her bedroom door, and she stilled her body, and her tears. She slowed her inhales, despite the fact that she couldn’t seem to breathe. She heard Nanami push the door open, tiptoe to the bed under the assumption that Tiana had fallen back to sleep. He crawled in, wrapping himself around Tiana as if she would leave at any moment, and it took Tiana everything in her not to claw her way out of his grasp.

He buried his face in the middle of her back, and Tiana felt something wet.

He was crying.

Why was he crying? Why was he the one upset when he was doing this to her? When he was inflicting pain on the both of them, knowingly?

“I’m sorry.”

The words mince her ears. Tiana had never gotten so nauseous from hearing those two words.

Tiana doesn’t know when, or how she fell asleep. But when she awoke, Nanami was gone. Only a cold chill was left behind in the divot where he laid, and the growing hole in her heart.

Nanami came back that Friday afternoon, and it was the same routine; packing Tiana’s things in a chilling silence, quietly downing a cold meal, and sleeping back to back in a passionless bed. Tiana laid awake for hours, waiting for Nanami to fall asleep, and when his loud snores finally ricocheted off the walls, she climbed out of bed and quietly toed her way to his side. Her heart rate spiked, watching his face while he slept; his eyelashes were bedazzled with fresh tears as he wept in his sleep. She let out a shaky breath, creeping her hand to the night stand that held his phone. She swipes it, still watching to make sure he didn’t suddenly awake. She taps his screen, a picture of her on the day they went to market, her fingers gracefully tapping the windchimes as the sun radiated around her, the light catching in her eyes to the point where it looked like a hearth. Tiana covered her mouth, trying to stifle any sounds threatening to come out.

She has never had a reason to go through Nanami’s phone, nor did he have a reason to go through hers. She knew this was a new low for her, but she was desperate to find out something. Anything. She wanted to be right when it came to the possibility of him being unfaithful. She just had to check for herself, then those other delusions could go away. Those other possibilities would become nonexistent.

Maybe the feeling of betrayal would lessen.

But when she slid her finger over his screen, it showed a passcode. And not the usual 9-dotted one where you swiped intricate patterns, or even a simple four digit pin. Not even a fingerprint or facial recognition.

It was a password. As in, the entire keyboard popped up.

Neither of them had passwords on their phones before right now.

She went to the kitchen, downed half a bottle of wine, then went to bed.

Tiana awoke to the smell of breakfast wafting in on a gloomy Saturday morning; the spice of cinnamon mixed with the grease of pork tickled her nose, but as much as she enjoyed food there was nothing joyous to be felt. She just frowned, shuffling out of bed. She took her time getting ready, brushing the taste of apricot from the back of her tongue and popping a few tabs to nurse an incoming headache. She washed her face profusely with bone chilling water, turning off the faucet and staring at her drowsy reflection. The glow she had on Sunday had dimmed into something unrecognizable. She couldn't believe that the woman gawking at her and the radiant being on Nanami's screen were the same person.

She sniffles, drying her face before exiting her room, and into the kitchen. A decent spread is laid out before her, but she can’t even appreciate it with her eyes. The flowers Nanami had gotten her stood in a green vase in the middle of the island, but the smell was suffocating.

Nanami was drying the last dish when he finally noticed Tiana’s presence. He immediately dried his hands, walking up to her with a smile that seemed sadder than most. He hesitantly places a hand on the small of Tiana’s back, and her face winces. Nanami tries to ignore it, liking his lips in preservation.

“Good morning…” His voice is low with caution, as he tries to get Tiana to at least look at him.

“‘Morning.” Her voice is lifeless.

Nanami hesitates for a moment, then leans in to give Tiana a peck on the lips, and her stomach lurches forward so much that she feels as if she’s going to vomit out her insides. She rolls her head away, the kiss landing on her strained cheek instead. Tiana lets in a sharp inhale, grabbing Nanami’s hand and sliding it off her body carefully. She immediately looks at the food, she knows the current expression on his face would be unbearable, and she didn’t want him catching the revulsion in her eyes.

“You made breakfast?” She says, brushing past Nanami. A chill runs down his spine, and he rubs his face with an open palm.

“Yeah, yeah. I did.”

“Is this another form of an apology?”

Silence.

“Nanami, how am I supposed to accept this,” Tiana clutches her stomach, “If I don’t even know what you’re apologizing for?”

“You…still need to eat.”

God, he was so dodgy now.

“I ain’t hungry.”

“You haven’t been eating much this past week.”

“And why is that?”

“Tiana, just-”

“Trust you?”

More silence. Tiana sucks her teeth, turning back to Nanami, her nostrils flaring.

“Tell me this.”

Nanami omits the word “anything”, instead saying a low “Okay.”

“You know the La Bouf’s?”

Nanami blinks. “I do.”

Tiana felt as though she were gut punched. “How?” She asks.

“They’re-”

Nanami slows his speech, the truth on the tip of his tongue. It would take nothing to tell her right now, but he would be risking everything. He really should just rip the bandage off, bite the bullet, and tell Tiana everything she deserved to know.

But he couldn’t.

He had to protect her for just a while longer.

“They’re a huge sponsor and business partner of ours.” Nanami swallows. It was a part of the truth, but not the entire story. He was omitting facts.

He was still a liar.

And he hated liars. How could he become that which he hated?

The answer did anything but satisfy Tiana. She couldn’t detect a lie, but she knew that wasn’t everything to it.

“We’ve been having a few complications with contracting, and they don’t really take note of the time difference, so I’m always on call.”

“Is that who called the other night?”

Nanami hesitates, then nods his head. “Yeah.”

“So why did you lock your phone?”

Nanami’s face tightened, then turned ghostly pale. “You-”

“I went through your phone. Or at least tried to.” Tiana admits. “There was a lock on it. Why?”

Nanami falters, then reaches into both pockets, sliding two phones on the counter. They looked identical.

“I, uh…” Nanami fumbles with his words, “I have two phones now. One for work, and my personal line.”

Tiana tapped both the screens, his personal line having a picture of her and the work line having the default wallpaper. She slides her fingers across both screens, and his personal unlocks with no restrictions. The other one asks for a password.

Her lips curl, anger swelling in her stomach.

Did he think she was this stupid?

“La Bouf.” Tiana tongues her cheek. “That’s my sister’s last name.”

Nanami’s eyes darted around. “You never mentioned that before.”

“No, I haven’t. Crazy how small the world seems these days.”

Nanami turns his head to look towards the balcony door.

“Very.”

Tiana scoffs. Unbelievable.

“I’m not apologizing for what I did.” Tiana leans away from him, sliding the phones away from her as if they scorched her hand.

“I don’t expect you to.” Nanami’s head dropped, and it pissed Tiana off even more. How could he sit there pitifully yet play her to be the fool? What the hell was he thinking?

“You don’t have to apologize. You have every right to feel that way.” Nanami continued, and Tiana felt herself combust.

“Then give me a reason not to!” She slammed her hand flat on the counter. “Give me a reason to feel guilty for snooping through your stuff! Give me a reason to forgive you! Give me a reason…” Her voice collapsed in her esophagus. “To trust you again.”

He didn’t look at her. He just tongued his cheek, glaring at the ground.

“Nanami, please.” Tiana hesitantly reached for his hand, but eventually intertwined her hand into his own. She just couldn’t believe that the hands that once held her so warmly would be attached to someone who would deliberately go out of their way to hurt her. She didn’t believe this was the same man she met a year ago. She couldn’t believe that this was the man she fell for.

What happened this week?

“Please…don’t do this to me.” Water caught on her bottom lids. “Don’t do this to us.”

Nanami skews his lips to the side, mouth opening and closing as he tries to find something intelligible to say. Something to soothe her. But he couldn’t. He tilted his head, shaking it slowly.

“Tiana…”

“No.” Tiana snatched her hand back, cradling it to her chest. “No, if you’re going to spout some bullshit excuse, then just go.”

“Tiana, if you’ll just-”

“Go!” She motioned towards the door.

Nanami shuffled his feet for a moment, his heart heavy. He leaned over, giving Tiana a hurried peck on her eyebrow, and she cringed away, hugging her elbows. He walks past her, shuffling on his shoes, leaving a sniffling Tiana by her lonesome.

“I’ll call you later.”

“Don’t bother.” She shoots back, hoping her words caused him to hurt as much as she did at the moment.

And it must have, because he didn’t call.

Tiana spent the rest of her Saturday having a strong case of deja vu as she rid herself of that damned cedarwood smell. Windows were flung open, candles were lit, surfaces wiped, floors moped, and sheets changed. Skin was scrubbed and hair was washed. An entire bottle of peach spirit was consumed. Tiana curled under her freshly washed sheets, ruminating on the past few days. Wondering what went wrong. Wondering why nothing ever seemed to go right for her.

Wondering why Nanami didn’t call her, even though she pushed him away.

Wondering why Nanami wouldn’t just tell her the truth.

There was someone else she could call, someone she hadn’t heard from in a while.

Tiana waited until 12:00 am, finally sober enough to have a coherent conversation, and dialed Charlotte’s number. It should be early afternoon in New Orleans, so there should be no excuse about Tiana “calling too early”.

The phone rings once, and goes straight to voicemail, Tiana clenching her phone in her hand. She tries again, and it rings five, six, seven times before Charlotte finally picks up.

“Tia!” Charlotte sings out, and Tiana can tell by her cadence that she’s forcing that sweet tone. It made Tiana sick. “How’s my sister from another mister?”

Tiana takes a moment to respond, blinking hard as she fidgets with the skin around her nails. She rocked back and forth, focusing on breathing and enunciating her words properly.

“Tia?” Charlotte crackles.

“Lottie.” Tiana lets out a strained laugh, slightly maniacal. “You know…I trust you, right?”

Charlotte fumbles an answer, and Tiana’s heart punctures.

“O-Of course!” Charlotte says. “We…trust each other.”

Tiana nods, licking her lips. “You know that if you told me sky was green at the moment, I’d have no other option to believe you because we’ve been through that much.”

“Y-yeah…”

“So, Lottie. Is the sky green right now?”

“I-I don’t think I understand…”

“What haven’t you been telling me?”

A bit of shuffling could be heard.

“Nothin’!” Tiana catches the defensiveness in her voice. “I ain’t got nothin’ to hide.”

“Do you know a man named Nanami Kento?” Tiana asks sharply.

“No-”

“Does your father know a man by that name?”

“And why the heck would I know that?” Charlotte snaps. “You know I don’ mess with anything he does.”

“But I don’t know.” Tiana strains. “Not anymore. Because for so long, you’ve been telling me that the sky was green, Charlotte.”

Tiana crouches over with the phone, her head searing with heat.

“I just want someone to tell me the truth. And you, Charlotte, out of anyone…you’re all I can come back to. So if I can’t trust you…then what the hell are we calling each other sisters for?”

“Tia…” Charlotte’s voice sputters into the speaker. Then there’s a bit of clamoring in the background.

“I-I’ll have to call you back.” Charlotte rushes out. “I’m at the doctor right now.”

Tiana blinks. “Every time I tried to contact you lately, you’re always on an examining table. What’s going on?”

“O-Oh, it’s not for me!” Charlotte stammers. “It's Daddy again, he ain't been feeling too good. You know how he can push himself too hard, can never sit still…like a certain someone I know.”

Tiana sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. She'd have to discuss this more another time. “Then we’ll talk later. Tell him to get some rest. And let me know if there’s anything I can do. I’ll grab the first plane home-”

“That won’t be necessary!” Charlotte interjects. “It ain’t that serious.”

“Well, just in case-”

“Okay, I’ll tell him, bye!”

The line ends abruptly.

Charlotte sighs, sniffling as she shoves her phone into her clutch. Her doctor eyes her, checking some things off of a wooden clipboard.

“Alright, Ms. La Bouf. Last check up, everything looks good, but…” The doctor chooses their words carefully after hearing her previous conversation. “I’d refrain from anything emotionally taxing right now. We want to make sure it's smooth sailing up to the birth.”

Travis, standing beside her, rubs her tense shoulders.

“Of course, Doc.” Travis plants a kiss in Charlotte’s weighted, blonde locks. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Tiana couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t eat. She couldn’t focus on anything, her mind trying to divvy up fact and fiction, what was reality and what was interpretation. Everything was messily scattered about, but there was a thin thread connecting everything clearly and concisely.

And she was going to get to the bottom of it.

Right now.

The sun was due to rise soon, but the city seemed to mimic Tiana’s anxiousness, wide awake and bustling in the wee hours of the morning as Tiana sped to Nanami’s home. When she pulled into his driveway, his car was nowhere to be found.

She hoped he was cheating.

So Tiana used the sage skeletal key to enter Nanami’s home, and she almost blacked out, tripping over a heavy suitcase that was propped by the door. His scent was strong, with touches of her own style draped around. She wanted to go about, snatching her personifications from around his abode, but it wasn’t her place. So she sat on the edge of his couch, hands folded neatly and balancing her wobbling chin, and waited with low eyes.

And waited.

She heard the sound of crunching gravel, then a long pause. The opening and closing of a car door, then a longer pause. The hesitated shuffling of footsteps to the door. The nervous jingle of keys. The careful click of the lock.

Nanami crept in, his face grim and slightly frightened after finding Tiana posted in the dark.

The air felt like a basket of delicious fruit had been left out to rot in the sun for too long. The facade had finally melted away.

“I didn’t expect you to be here.” Nanami said, hooking his keys by the door. He doesn’t bother to turn on any lights, just removes his shoes and carefully walks up to Tiana, who glared up at him distastefully, eyes red.

It was almost hateful.

“You…” Nanami inhaled. There it was, that fruity smell that he caught lingering from Tiana’s pores lately. It had been getting stronger and stronger, and it pinched at Nanami’s heart. “You’ve been drinking? You smell like alcohol…”

“You smell like smoke.” Tiana slung back at him.

Nanami has nothing to say.

Tiana’s eyes darted to the dark suitcase by the door.

“What’s that?”

Nanami doesn’t have to look to know what she’s talking about.

“A…suitcase.” He says unintelligently.

“Nanami-” Tiana rubs her temples, trying to control the wave of belligerence rolling through her. “I am not with the fucking mind games, I know it’s a damn suitcase. What’s it for?”

“I have to go on a business trip.” Nanami swallows. “For a while.”

“When?”

Nanami’s breath shortens. He was certain Tiana would claw his vocal chords from his throat.

“Today.”

“And you didn’t tell me?!” Tiana’s voice peaked. “Was that breakfast supposed to be your final ‘hoorah’ before sneaking off to-” She pauses, her voice dropping as she rubs her eyes. “Where are you going, Nanami?”

“Out of the country.” He skirts around the answer, but it lights a bomb inside Tiana.

“To where.”

“The states.”

Tiana looks up at him, eyes burning into his soul.

“What state?”

Nanami doesn’t answer. Tiana’s hands grip the couch cushions so she wouldn’t physically lash out at him.

“What fucking state, Nanami?!”

Silence.

Tiana shoots up, causing Nanami to jolt backwards, but Tiana begins pacing the room, voice rising with each word.

“It’s the La Bouf’s, ain’t it?” Tiana shouts, her hands waving around wildly. “What the hell is going on? Everyone is acting so fucking weird; my sister, my assumed boyfriend. Like the whole world is doing something behind my back, because-”

Tiana turns to Nanami, hands pressed into her chest.

“Because you’re my damn world, now!” She screams. “Didn’t anything I said last week mean something to you? Did you even mean anything that you said to me? Or were you just making it up to make me feel good?”

Her words chipped at Nanami’s heart, his knees shaking as he tried to keep his footing. He wanted to reach out to her, but he feared

“Tiana, you know that I love you-”

“No, don’t use that on me right now, don’t say that shit.” Tiana’s mouth burned along with her eyes. “Because I don’t know. I really don’t fucking know anymore, and it's driving me up a wall-”

Her voice breaks down into a wail.

“So just tell me the damn truth, Ken. Whatever it is. I need to hear it from you. I want to hear it from you.”

Nanami clenches his jaw, he couldn’t handle the sight before him. The last time he made her this upset, he couldn’t forgive himself. There was another reason he was so gung-ho on Tiana’s rehabilitation; to smoothen out the feelings of guilt he felt every time he looked at her, to make him feel as though he were a better person than he actually was. But with that came amnesia from his committed crimes as he distanced himself from them, and this was the harsh reality. He truly was a cold-hearted liar, destined to break a heart he helped to mend.

He was destined to hurt the woman he loved the most.

“I can’t tell you right now, at least not everything.” Nanami strains. “It’s not all mine to tell.”

“What the hell does that even mean?” Tiana finds herself growing frustrated with Nanami’s cryptic phrases. She was determined to make him budge.

“I swear I’ll tell you when I get back. I’ll tell you whatever you want-”

“No, no you won’t!” Tiana stands directly in front of him, staring him down as if Nanami were the shorter one. “You’ll tell me now, or not at all, because…” She pauses, wincing as she pulls words from the bottom of her heart that she didn’t ever expect to say. Not to Nanami, at least.

“Because there won’t be anything or anyone to come back to if you don’t.”

Nanami grimaces, his jaw wobbling. “Tiana…”

“If you want any semblance of a future with me, Nanami. If you value us at all, you’ll tell me right fucking now.” Tiana’s nostrils flare as she attempts her strongest voice, the thick streams of tears betraying her. “Right now, or I’m walking out. And I mean that. I've run out of grace for you.”

He should tell her. He should really tell her right now. Risking his life with Tiana for a lie that went on far too long? Absolutely preposterous. Risking late night hot chocolate dates with terrible movie options, or tipsy walks down the cool streets of Sendai? Losing a future of white, sanded beaches and loitering in the sun far longer than either of them could handle. Missing the opportunity of becoming a unit. Just losing Tiana in general, not even being able to hang onto her as a friend, the thought was mortifying.

If he told her, maybe he would be forgiven. Maybe she would see that he was doing this for her and only her, and that he always had her best interest at heart even if everything seemed so convoluted. Maybe she would realize that everything up until now had been so real and tangible that Nanami could grab at it with his finger tips.

But he never told. The words never came.

“Am I not enough for you, now?” Tiana gave a painful laugh. “What’s so important that you’re willing to lose me over?”

“You.” Nanami’s voice splintered off, and Tiana felt a surge of sadness. “You’re that important. I’m trying to protect you.”

“Try telling me the truth. I don’t want your protection. I want your honesty.” Tiana pulled at his shirt, eyes darting around before resting on him one final time. “So, tell me.”

Nanami didn’t say a word.

He just stood there, mouth agape with the truth sitting right on his uvula. The sun began to rise, birds singing sweetly to welcome a new day for the both of them. Such a beautiful sight to celebrate their last day together, especially after Nanami said those two words that Tiana absolutely loathed now.

“I’m sorry.” His voice broke, but Tiana refused to waver. She refused to give him more time, despite the water pooling on his bottom lid.

“Fuck you, Kento Nanami.” Tiana jabbed her finger into his chest, but Nanami couldn’t feel anything besides his swollen heart. “Fuck. You.”

She stormed out, slamming the door, items residing on the wall rattling in the empty home. All Nanami could do was sink to the floor, leaning on the couch for support as he saw everything fade away, disintegrating into dust.

He doesn’t know why, but his mind momentarily flashes to Misha, the final words she had said to him echoing in his mind.

I hope you get the life you deserve.

Is that what Nanami deserved? Probably. But dammit, Tiana didn’t, and he had fucked her over so badly that she didn’t stand a fair chance.

Nanami pulls out his work phone, dialing a series of digits. The line rings once, twice, and one the third one it’s answered.

“Takuma,” Nanami’s voice is somewhere between a gulp and gasp for air as he swallows his reality. “I need you to do me a favor. Well, a few, really.”

Shoko picked Nanami up to take him to the airport, and the somber mood told her everything she needed to know. Before she dropped him off at the terminal, she took a sucker and lone cigarette out of her glovebox, slid it into his shirt pocket, and patted his shoulders as if to say “choose wisely”.

Nanami felt as if he were wading through jello. Nothing felt real, as if he were simply spectating life instead of living it.

He didn’t even have a real reason to live it anymore. His life, his love, it was gone. He had lost it all.

When Travis picked him up, Nanami said nothing as his ear was talked off, Travis explaining how to properly act around Charlotte and tend to her because she was so easily irritable with the baby’s due date approaching quicker than ever.

“Good, let’s get this over with.” Nanami deadpanned.

“Excuse me?” Travis raised a brow, not sure if he heard Nanami right, but Nanami didn’t repeat himself. The conversation died there.

Nanami didn’t speak to Charlotte at all upon arrival, and was pretty much going through the motions as if he were a machine set on autopilot. Charlotte ignored him, pretending nothing was wrong. It wasn’t until his second day there with a rambling Lottie when the two were alone that Nanami decided to speak up.

“I thought I was protecting her.” Nanami spoke, sitting in a chair in the corner of Charlotte’s room. She looked up from her bed, stomach swelled like a balloon, surprised to hear her cousin’s voice for the first time since he arrived.

“W-What?” Charlotte murmured.

“I thought I was protecting Tiana.” Nanami repeated. “I thought I was helping her. Making it easier for her.” He looked up to Charlotte, his sharp features casted with a dark shadow. He looked like he had wilted. “But it was really you. I was protecting you. Helping you. It’s always been you.”

“What are you talking about?” Charlotte chided nervously.

“Everything you want, you get. You ask for anything, and everyone will bend over backwards to make sure they do your will exactly the way you want it done.” Nanami chuckled humorlessly. “No matter who gets hurt.”

“Nanami, I don’t know who you think I am, or what you perceive me to be.” Charlotte exhaled through her nostrils, “But you’re wrong. I ain’t do this by myself.”

“You’re right. And I wish you had.” Nanami swallowed thickly. “Because even if it would have meant I would have never had her, at least she’d never know how shitty the people around her are.”

Charlotte’s mouth gaped open, red filling her face. “Excuse me? I saved her damn life!” Charlotte laughed, eyes flitting around the room as if to look for something. “So the least I can get is a damn ‘thank you’.”

Nanami scoffed. “Oh yeah, abandoning her on the other side of the world, how noble of you.”

“You know damn what, Nanami.” Charlotte did a strange waddle to sit up on her pillows. “I don’t need this shit. If you’re too pissed off at me to share this beautiful moment, then you can get the hell on.” She jabs her thumb toward the exit, then motions to her heavy belly. “I don’t need any extra stress right now, as you can clearly see. So let’s not make this about Tia right now.” She sinks back into the pillows, huffing in frustration. “I just wanna get through this, and we can figure something out later.”

“What else is there to figure out?! There is no later!” Nanami shouted. “We lied to her. I lied to her, forcing myself to believe I was helping her so that I could feel better about myself. So that I could sleep at night. But all she did was hurt, and hurt, and hurt-” Nanami’s voice rose and cracked as slammed the back of his hand into his palm, causing Charlotte to reach her own breaking point.

“Don’t you raise your voice at me!” She matches his tone, jabbing a thick pointer finger towards him. “Don’t you dare-”

She wails, gripping her stomach as she curls over it, wincing in pain. Nanami shoots up, taking concerned strides towards her as she controls her breathing, tears dotting her lashes. Shaky breaths fill the room as she breathes in, then out.

In.

Out.

“You think I ain’t hurtin’ too?” Charlotte's voice is painful. “Do you think, for a second, that I wouldn’t want my best friend here? That I wouldn’t want her at my side, experiencing this with me?” A broken sob runs through her as she massages her stomach. “You think I don’t need her? You think I wanna do this alone? It hurts, Nanami. It all hurts. My heart, my head, my stomach, my back, and despite it all, it’s still so beautiful, and I can’t even share this with her. Something we've planned on being together since we were kids.”

Even as she cried, rocking with her stomach cradled in her arms, Nanami felt so disconnected. He grieved for a different reason. He just couldn’t find the energy to sympathize with Charlotte. It made him feel empty.

“She should have been here.” Charlotte said, trying to clear her throat. “Not me. This is the life she deserved to live, but she can’t anymore. And I feel so…damn guilty indulging in it without being able to share with her.”

Nanami grimaced. He too believed that Tiana deserved to be here, right at Charlotte’s side. But here he was, a shoddy replacement for a shitty situation.

Nanami threaded his fingers through Charlotte’s curls as she cried into his abdomen, clinging to him as she asked a question that she didn’t want an honest answer to, but knew Nanami would give it to her straight because she needed to hear it.

“Do you really think I’m a shitty person?” She asks, her voice muffled.

Nanami nodded, placing a quick kiss on Charlotte’s scalp. “The shittiest.”

Charlotte wailed harder as Nanami’s voice croaked.

“But so am I.”

He wished Tiana was here. He wished he was holding her right now, reassuring her. He wished he had told her the truth from the start.

He wished he had never met her. If he hadn’t, maybe, just maybe she wouldn’t be suffering so badly while she was with him. He didn’t deserve a life with her, and Nanami would live a thousand lifetimes alone if it meant Tiana could be happy in just one. Even if that happiness meant being without him.

Even if that happiness meant being with someone else.

It was cold.

So cold.

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ | ɴᴇxᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ | ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀʜᴇᴀᴅ | ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ʟɪꜱᴛ

#fanfic #anime #manga #writing #tiana x nanami #tianami #ao3 fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #tianami tuesday #misty #crack fic #crackship

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libidomechanica · 10 months ago

Text

Untitled Poem # 11702

A sonnet sequence

In thing, and o’er the wind: far, far around them with your corn is bound with her wing, she trembling pageantries, with both her hands we wring, forth from this life, the little room, who, hoping to compensate, trying notes, discontinued not. Saw two fair appeare; I saw that I was born. Had child, today two women are, whirrs suddenly her forehead, and to be; but shake hands. Threatening bread out of time. And for you are a boat I have of comfort fast, while laigh descending from Venus’ sweet sang, Barbauld, survive not the morning. Leave thee naked trees refused to be most infernall night torch, and did detain.

Company would faine would do not reserved up her heart i carry it in my heart- of-hearts filled with dead cold with language and escaped; all I could value in a trice: but all, and she is scorch and glow as in plain and of it selfe my selfe, to shed; she hugg’d it to Elenor, I am coming from his hand, and illiterate fruit might present they were bent with all the grasses the watercress so fine to our aged eyes as when we talked on our knees. And they have gone, leaving the wonders are my heart would not look into pleasure of moss so finely spread, and made of grapes out wrung.

Hooked around, and wore me numb,—yet less presume to play. Which is with his hooves checks the reflex act of loue. More was now to any one exterior senses clear. Therefore unto Themselves and me. Save against my kiss, unasked, she fled from fear, till him rives horatian fame; in thy stores’ account the devil’s line of golden strings upon the mountain-top, i’ll tell no more the shepherd-sang but with me! Taken by the dead: I cannot live, and keep the forehead, and fain by stealth. And wound and heaven grac’t, ah! In sign her themselves were injured. When Venus’ swans and sic a lassie by him?

For it’s jet, jet black, an’ it’s like an infant thus! It lies not the Challenge answer him the devil’s line of gold fixing his purity with his breast breathless spokes fell to worship her? The concentration built that roses show when misted o’er its stub branches, and shot a shadow smells like an infant’s blood, vailed to its nub, its puddle of tallow, appetite withouten many words once I am soft and my heart mine forbeares, as of a cup, the festal board, lamp’s flash and gay, and cunning in the mind proves imagined creatures cabinet, stella, thou straight against her dear lord!

That grace, her self I turn my spinnin’ wheel. Love the lips have sought. From strife. Now had the stars shone cleare. Which th’ earth to a butter. And grief and cruel fire, they don’t necessarily even know the plain. My sunnes sight would, as my though unknown joy. While he types; Yes; and at last. You look look waylays my fancy. Balm it is, the murder’d head of her head she will say she hanged Death of Jesus set me free. The sticky glass, and Hoigh for love my love is buried where having lies. I did the thorn? And darksome corner secret trusty night, I find these meadows low. Mid-sentence of the morning.

Keep it; being known to earth from over smooth his triple mace, which make death, and here and there shall try to warm the wealth, or wit, or any of the summer youth should you would cheap the strain o’ thee, art a guest for quicknesse thy life hath an amorous play. By which do sublime the cooling river durst not for your cradle, your home, my boys, come; come, come, leans a kind of faith, it was inflames to rule me, and oft looked out, and came to the pleasure suffered as a dower was as a chariot. First time hath got the haunted by the devil’s line of gold fixing his parent’s evening stared he on’t, and that tents the evening with no stars, it yearned to do with their contracted thus, by day and hot, and jewels laid aside, and pain, its deep, impassion cannot go to sleep; whether themselves were all the woods were all accomplished, they, weeping, spread, where she, shee could crack open to the endgame of heart.

Or, if it be supprest. Begin with light fair, ah, braid no more than mine own thrall. None the summer’s noon clouded; fall’n like desire, and feast: such fears, quakes, palsies, and depart; alas, I found them through half the craik amang the Woman’s Henna from the camp of love after me forever! Where we walked two nights before, as thou canst not to kneel, not to learned to its nub, its puddle of tallow, appetite without a shaft that in its rose-mesh pulled him with delays, as women in the sky the scaffolds the flat hill of me untrue, my name thy life doth express how pure, so innocent!

Comforts be, as, consterd in true survey Thy beams, so reverend and still panting organs to be stamp’d by one not won, yet was mad, yet when a token of green and earth with care, and young, receive! No graces can your gaudy toys to please his eye, a brow for loss there. Where willingly requited. Toll forth to a book-learn’d sot, till pudding and gay, and in hand, may to adorn; neither head, the thick jaws, the gag even thou leau’st the aim! Those kings whom thousands, now the time it will make all my soul believed in not the riches it impart: o, lest the bloody napkin, wrapp’d in her naked truth.

It’s a night arise; come, my boys, come; come, my boys, come; and Phyllis is but deaf and cruel lovers use to do. I own the Past profuse of powerful gods. The pond to shame and stay the lights that to win it is mute, and yet there for honey bees have not me, and silver altar heap’d with yielding eyes of love, shall dispense a wild and its sum, you did not speak—I saw her this is the mark! How fair appeared, the fresh each hour, as is the bottom of pleasure is as good sex. From harm from heaven is Cupid’s myrtle was done, that sentence, which so basely he is in New York, reading hair!

Nor hours, days, months, which now the young are truly boring, unvaried as thou callest thy pillow. With knowledge absolute, subject to no dispute; I shall me call; and fresh and lighten bolted joints, a wretch, howling after me for blood! Let us, thought I saw a jutting crag, I found her chamlets of delighted the bold waves might; the sun in a scarlet cloak, and her eyes full oft; and the horse highly disdainful dame. Bade adieu, as if disjoined by her neck, like Mars and pleasure have, life’s dearest bands unto her lies. I drafted to this is true: so like water, never window.

By her silvered used she, and nothing can maketh more majestic swims, and little breeze, all freshly steep; and the air, we held hands clasped for you are my fate, no one pieces down to the hears deep sighs, and borders, love will not look into please thee naked feet were with the dirt to work&weep. And let the grove, wherewithal: be she lies o’ercome or hate, shun what he straue to find some, their vermillion miles. Old along his vice in use, did after that was worthiness of the world! To sound allure, where nature grow: but shake your hand like the sparkles new begun. Be my misfortune’s shining?

When a man it is superficial. But what thy leaden counsel’d, from the world another’s arms away she ran; after went Mercury who used she, and the world would be the sun is gone down, I’ll tell, that it seemed a thing alien to know that I come, by meadows fresh and fragrant-eyed, their flairing, idle toys, amid their wings and death or mould my rude pen can hardly blazon forth the savage heat, gallop amain from steep pine-bearing the ground. Small griefs find these tuneless numbers, wrung from swinged Psyche true speech her breast, sae early morning. June needs discovers the enema.

But, finding the least once every-dayness of noble thou dost reviewest though lifted o’er that bids nor sees; rolled at a reflective pace past the morning. When Juliana comes, and she what I follow swiftly blasting his story, let him by the congruities: be her be him be them, see the rudest peasant pain, her voice, thy sweet i want no world-greetings, quick with griefe; and she is in But what you like. To dote upon her dear presence all surmise, they answer of the sky the long times seem to hate, shun what I had no tears took in the unshapeliest, meanest lump of clay, with chat.

While loud them sing: the nodding elders mixed good wine with a boy so fair creature, let me pass untold, that held the reins, spits forth the other maid had sworn is reap’d; your barns will not copy fair appear? Burn to hate, I do, yet day, and we still warm with barrel wine, when our autumn cometh, as it would let me speak without, finished into her arms a wet napkin, wrapp’d about; then run out and drink, lest grief he flings, all honor’s mimic, all we must wear the sacred garments see. But long tried to That which comforts which sparks of life its praise to all disconsolate at the pleasure have, life’s unending quest, to let thy tears to show her face and view, the soule plant my fate, for in highest ridge, and some one else, then I should love and people is tongue like a scythe, while upon her die thirsting. A melancholy earth by spells and wine: or for a kisse; that hops about his arm and for the same!

I will be for the ringled bit, and stone. In perfect beauteous blessed them both; but Stephen to cross. Some swore then with awaken’d eyes? So, the year they start with this our life and few could enjoy that though, about the sea, the lintwhite sing. And beauteous hill of moss so fair. In grayish doubt the man. My dear, it was endowed when to thine own the Past. Let us pay, the prey of worms, my boys, come; come, my boys, come; and meet below my theekit cot; the dew sat chilly on her lukewarm place of residence. Virginity, the shepherds that he would be afraid! So looks yielded, then from all Quarters.

Shining laterally, so beauty only me is you here is their loves on heaps of heaven, nor account I one must full with the other, and the hour or more is exacted; for thou canst not to get from City Hall to Brooklyn, which watchful Hesperides, or the World. For Juliana comes, and try its worth a rattling murmur in the sky the lips sweld so debonair, as from swinged her last. Near the scorn that’s in her was to me a paragon. Princes were for honey has a dash of gall. My heart beat once; and the chorded shell, his listening breezes sweep the foreground.

Resorted many a wandering singers’ feathered queen, does she cries, oh misery! Albeit Leander made reply, you are my fate, no one so utterly desolate, the winds through hate had put there he had hope thus he accosted her, water faucet and forced to each other gains. That meant and when the light and dark squares feel like the earth remains which, after chance to pick up who had given birth to go, and kissed him. Her e’en, sae bonie lasses in Balboa Park and brightly to the eye chews the apple, sends forth cast; and them would go: perhaps to us moon-gazing her owne.

My future’s epigraph, new angel mine, unhoped for ever alone: courage, poor, nor despised, when to the sky of the distance the course I didn’t say it. When Jubal struck one, and you hear her stooped to have his heavenly nymphs humble manner thus bespake him eerie,—o why should a blockhead ha’ one in ten? In silence of bliss; that face, whose nun you amid their faces fell to worships, I would rather, that Martha’s name? Your face was here in the night in vain spend shafts on me; I did not come. Would ye have allured the orchard of such evil cheer, that way because it’s easy.

Likewise one or other rites were affied. Look not thou down but up! The chrism of love. Drawn down to her lips, where its string, and all, severed greater sphere. Blythe waukens by the water, as I am? Then, sweet, when some fair looks yielded but he is single life, Love. As for a songs sake. Will never dry; i’ve measured up that cleeds me bien, and she was on the blue day-light’s in her womb the infant’s grave was left their tender skin’s most serious wouldst appear, whence does she herself she cry? And why sits she be fain; why dost thou wake the pathless plain, in deepest secretly have given away her bed.

Where bonie blue, betray: the Death of Reconciliation, he laid his childish heart for heaven to gaze upon, and beauty only so are needful at the midnight hours; thy voice like a hawk, an’ it winna let a body be. He, being to be account I one must think upon, as heavens; therefore, Leander, being do not quarrel with the bloody napkin by her door—tis seldom shut—and if of one another oath; and when, as thou art her eyes and oblique lines, the chill win, or else force love is but our own silhouette we saw, slow perhaps he has really two ages.

With the fire, and Mankind’s Eye its Pupil! But thee, divine Musaeus sung, dwelt at Abydos; since thy duties be as it must, and pulled him with your hands he castle gate, and she what I do to their fork and she what I aspired to this. Than he could know me such who speak to him hastily she kept, and spends themselves and our destinies laden with azure palace stood the swallow too, as to show her flesh more, now, than of His tribes that was the accursed day and his train abode. For one day was near: O punishment and cold limbs, stiffen’d to stir; and in snow thus to the foeman out.

Without one peece of love From harm from the well-built nest. Like as they opened wide at every stroke, betwixt the reeds the bright: I arise from her unjustly did deny nor grant youth’s heritage, life’s first meeting. Awake the sailor sings. Trying to her was enamoured was, and began to give thy selfe did giue the crop-full bird? As really two ages. But peers beyond the Night, shewes her sweet harmony. They that held the light, a beauteous hill of me untrodden region of electrons heal us I would hear his tale, left off her running skulls, and, with gilded leaues or colour’d ill.

Again, she was angry when they this Leander, fearing her mind pure, dutiful you all I know, but little linnet fondly prest; the silent night; when all these make cloudes from a hundred bright meet in the land, who had given away her best and dark square of two distances apart make us still and if twas born and love the longing, not give anything had passed in misty vapuors, which arise from out the lofty servile clown, who with these tuneless numbers, wrung of leaves. In order grim grow out, in graver mood, obey the panacea, Sir! On horsebacke met her?

I cannot go to sleep; be where Love may all his torches light, poor soul gan to move, what need’st thou bring’st this, and whose lively heat, still he blew his slaues, he forst from his hand when the living fire that dolefully, as made: so, better, age, exempt from steep by steep; and in thy motion charms, I call your stroke, betwixt them out: whether both our sakes must be; for nothing but uncurrent Gold, not to be missed, embrace, not vsde to frozen as those eyes, like Mars and like the Shepherds when it nursed them both, making his love abated, fearing to be packed into a cypress tree?— In desert, and that seemed about me now, he stops talking. It’s a night, hirèd a villain to bereav’d me, he but a brute I might he hope-hour strain o’ thee, let me speak well of quickly before to see his beauty her beauty, and every swain, and if you prove faithless spoke sometimes some forrit, honest Allan!

Begin with azure palace stood where their goddess held so full of the world, baring its worth to a book-learn’d sot, till in vain. Life’s dearest spite, take all my wooing his parent’s evening-star, and others, if not deter a second trial. My future will not come, by meadows in which Venus’ altar, to you be; He is, if the dead hour and I shall I pass, approaches, crying: The deed off, calls back or stops: Potter angel is a man in a diameter fires and oblique lines, the most air and counts his dying not to lean in my hearts of thee that is best recall; earth change; the Past!

In the soule, which I spoke, she raisèd up herself to cherish. But be confest, but some heart, into my eyes and wat’ry star when yawning dragons draw her flesh has soul that high compassion of that when at nightfall because each sence holds more glorious wouldst thou be fain; if her naked to his plump cheeks, with fear of delight? She means to be remembered course, with she the heart, are you, a woman he’s the clear and brought; and now, tenfold more terrifièd, saw thee, art a guest for queens to sell, and long to sigh; and when they start with my friendly fray, whereon Leander the flower as lovers slain.

I carry it in my heart. The shadow falls in the sharp scale the think on, it’s pride of heaun it be love will colour change and escaped; all I could search with one another at the taut holding back not the murders where with an apology ok, I’m sorry, you dickhead. Lest interview annul a want that hill of moss, that you again. My heart, smile on its wires of garnered fruitful wits, and be swept away, so that this is some little light, like to the day, and to their goddess held and grass, does to the submissive ground the more sweet perfumes he did lay, he burnt vn’wares his wings.

Some ask’d me where these agree. The god, seeing it to herself lament redundant. By this, sad Hero, hate me not, cause I can’t win her, and to herself upon her love. For faithful love will be born white, across there. Be there forsworn and thou art left for every stroke, betwixt them through windows, and leaves the nick of time. But when at one shoulder, a birthday cake and her eyes: by love’s honey bees have of comforts be, as, consterd in true survey as it would be to each other were enamoured on her head, while I with self, the heart, are you see her in her fancy is in her feet?

Never fear. Mid-sentence, which down her prayers for those lively vine of granting, put him off as he though in the spot, the smiles that water far excels all enjoy. She seemed to scorn that’s done by only me is your doing, my darlings of Leander rude in love, be loved accent. When the worse what nature all is silent night of clouds before her fancy is in the skies, and sees pale sickly ghosts gliding. With gages from City Hall to Brooklyn, which the World! Thou Mother of my Mortal Life betray small depth in love: a violet by a mossy stone with light and my mistress, below my theekit cot; the sun’s rich praises worse. On my desired, and I would be to eat&see the stamp’d by one not worthy Lust; nor Valiant, who subtile is, crept to seem to be most infernall night is Cupid for centuries— of artists dying and gay, a fellowship so true forgo?

Drinking she was buried there is in love so much as one then will wind shivers bare arms threw, and tall, and almost turn’d fiend suspect I may, but mad Leander’s father knew we that I have rented birk and hawthorns and feel why time spins fast, when thou love not him to the spot away! You have but earth, you flash and the name of the notes it ran, they had fix’d the winged her last. My lord was like my shadowy though she has foreseen this fresh and tree, under higher: when nature’s epigraph, new angel heard, and every day—not because they may yet envy view the same, give life indeed, I have rented by that thou shalt hear, All here in one communion table wherein the lofty aiks the rough brows of the well-built nest. The merry, pass all women in bed she find the imagined Hero’s ruddy cheek Hero betray’d by tiffanies: like the ones leapèd and she herself she cried; ah, curs’d duke!

Then should know that I come,” leaped lively in. She stayed so long like a wing across the clavers: and och! And we canno’ stand, the childbeater is out, and thrusting the dusk of a voluptuous night is Cupid’s suit no better sped, seeing great lords in virtuous; what virtuous deeds discovers the enemy. The tree of Tantalus, she does come the more than music, and breath as frail as flowers; nor virgins, and love. With the whole! As when twas born alive or dead, he heaved him to his Secresy; stirr’d not at all, lasts ever, as this flesh with one another selfe, and o’er its strife.

How can I forgiveness; a love through anger that take, I must believed in not the more than counsels, which so prevailing forth, sufficiently impression do we you, by which taught to paint. Your feet you see a little infant’s blood, some plain. Life’s struggle having strove to please thee naked man, she was a place restored. Perhaps he has foreseen this rage was right now she wished his fury, woe, i’ll tell you every street like water from his pocket, risking in your head, while other wept, but faces Truth and trees instead of the clicking coals. That when at last she says tomorrow she will not pass.

Let thy tears be shed over my turf when I pursue it, stands and with no stars, green, and sunk upon the lute is broken flesh so pure lovingkindness’ sake grieved her foul, the woman go, whatever star in his shroud; and now, than of His tribes that doth pleasant is this aged thorn, so old, in truth is that way because a horse is night. Like a scythe, while upon a building, are carefully I score: he seemed, as if disjoined slackly, we behold is censured by our eyes looking slightly shine. No, no, let me live most I love, more praise upon her lips ill hung or set, and, with sighed to none.

In grayish doubts, all scruples hence removed. Exactly four different men have to face the course; graceful and use Thy work: amend what have I to my burial come. At all times I’d rather drawn by those eloquent that cruel where he means to assuage compile sharp sophister, with weather foul pride. And threw him gaudy nymph, belovèd, and with me i carry it in my hearse be vexed with thee? Thou, thou didst mould, that’s a night were ever found to give thy selfe denies. Meaner beauty is; that he should Fate sic pleasure feel of Bessy at her grinders black boy all that he hath eyes of pride!

Quit, quit for shame, in being do not play still warm with a jeep. And, like fire to burn such a cittadell, so brimmed without, finished into the most deceptive organ in the first ye were none but go! Played and as a bird, young Leander’s father’s hats. Thou countenance, threat of Jove itself over my turf when I the ley, the sylvan singer, singing with Hero, Venus’ temple thoughts and quell? In whose passe-praise hue scorn for this flesh so pure, how dear to some one else, saying not to loan, in time is at thy love, call countenance, they answer it— was he a brave man or a hypocrite?

It scents thy early white. Nor that night; when all the deadly fatal knife that hops about thy rim, skull-things in order to displayed, and yet could eclipse about you, all is ours! And bells, and o’re, our own silhouette we saw, slow perhaps when women in no more to her best is yet unlevelled. When the wind: far, far too long to lean in my feet hath left his darlings of Dove, a maid of Dian’s kiss, and nothing can make? To the ivory skin and, crying: The deed is done; take those words fit for shame, and pin’d and briers. The saint he would be whisp’ring round him—Which The Shah observing, took his rest.

The wind, whose eyes, like a hawk, an’ it’s like the Sun’s early in the warm Love is slight: who ever life’s dead, and solid stone. Leander seen, and the skies, and saw that take, I must here could that th’ uncertain momentum, the long gold tunnel I believe? The white thought, be torn. And believed in not the hills of sure an end to men; irks care they, but all are never turn them will not look into please the sky of thee to bed. My spirit seal; I had not bade adieu, as if by hand there, for once as fragrant too, and yet it cannot draw his Hand from the grasses the watercress so fair.

Some hung the hill, or the scorn; and his Cyclops set; love kindling fire did quickly before towards the pitcher shaped. Herewith be appeased? Two nights before towards the pieces of my Mortal Birth, must be flattered the white limbs which alone, when nature of the daisy’s side, and beauty had he not blinded thus, thus let us smother who kept him chain-swung censer teeming; no shrine, thy oracle of Medicine say. At the springs of the night what I do to the Champak odours fail like sweet enforcement and came to the more sweet in her feet the woman he will one. Sweet sang, Barbauld, survives.

That were whipping out. Come, my body and mind, for I am sure ye will say she hanged her and briers, the moat, stifling in the untrodden region of these we men and eager face and all, severed great enough for a moment cuts the deflective less can I forgive! To man, that my angel is a man, to bring to feele my griefe; and straight again saturn and Ops began to move, saying nothing the dead hour and fuels good sex. But when a soul, by choice and a’ the price; o’er which makes those white limbs which are the pointed to the question— who can teach, what we cannot tell his name.

Her robe assur’d, long dallying on yellow sand, sends forth the cool waves with his prisoner, who in earth, you flash like the opening eye, a brow for love the wonder to the windshield and by a spark. It lies not in our power to love or fear would that better part of me: so then I am not lame, poor stupid heart of all is, when on her hut, the cowslips blaw, in vain, till gentle yet the Wicked dread the Throne under whose tragedy divine Musaeus sung, dwelt among the dead: to graces can your mistress, below envy, robert Burns: wha wad leave the thorn? Fly to my burial come.

And in its song, blue, where, and not remembrances. And ready to accept that Jove, usurper of his grace, whose eyes, like Theban Hercules, entered Hero’s ruddy cheek Hero betray small depth below. Said we were man but formed to scorch and glow as in plain that I come so near, swear to some one man; so going on while night at the shall be: time’s wheel? Is grilling the dust lies not in love as I am? This strife, let us marry love the best voices were caught in ribbands, and bear the scorn for that more of heart. Courage, poor hearts filled hearts of these, who dead, and oft looked so doleful cry?

It’s a silent tower; the teeth o’ time may gnaw Tantalus, she does, blessing the bark and hawthorns and few great lamps do dive into my heart of stone. At length. While that once beat Praise be Thine! To endure, and she, alas! Thus while too much more, that once there, why choose but kiss her, when prayers without offence, save that weigh them. Than their faces Truth and thrusting their jealous pangs and delight? And love. Actually, the exact opposite two cities stood, and there none but they then preserves all things here. With that fly by night as possible, trying to her head, and this never; tis lost, too warily kept.

For what I have both deliberate, the loveliest vision far even into my eyes and eyes match me: we allow; even so forgetfulness. One shade the mind from the ground he laid his childish heart is not reaped; beauty dwelling main that we cannot live, thought she ever found a woman go? Sleep, while the thorn is true: so like waterfall like to a dew, fell down on you and made of melting snow; or be more she replies, dry as the main account; all instincts immature, all color the other lover’s steeds, where no one that stark alien surface at last, this poor child there’s there.

From side to side: tis three-parts pain! But all, and smiling died but Mercy change; the wretched and restless love, mostly I am pushing him away. From steep by stealth and still on Menie doat, and bells, all silver white girls longed to the spot, the congruities: be her chastity hast sworn to rob her name, with arms of mine own though lifted o’er they the sweet perfumes he did best! Then Muse doth express how pure, how dear the bed she blushed as one there we live; if not destroy, and sing and bless than these days so far retir’d of him than me, keeping the ball, think water oft her veil for fear such sights and me.

So to his silly maiden bosom flew, about its mother’s arms around shall we need na jouk behint the muscles, the other, as he spake, forth from this had Venus weeps that wing the rested not till to endure, and nothing forlorn. Unless you worship her? The nymphs’ enveigling Harmony, so was his own. The starting to feed him to the solitary tower he got, and forced to seek the eyes of love of young Jeany fair, the Kiss of men. With sheep. Not that befell ye: cupid and he makes thee loath. So lovely tints that I think I love not, but half; trust God: see all, or moon blooms.

But they’re no herd’s lays, at close my Tongue in sense, that are not shew my blind braine waies of ioy, while he is in the sky the sweet a flower as love that eve was left the sweet spell o’ witchin love: are fraught of Heaven’s great pleasure have built me a country and laid by his appealing from the morning’s light shall be one holy sisters, some one man; so going thoughts in a glass that an acre hath got the Challenge answer it— was he thoughts more praise? Refused to be, the prettie death, dear lord! And made: so, better sent, where nature does penance blazed relenting thought to be venged for your vows above.

On the hand from whence his speech, and hang more she stripped, long ere these arguments he used, and them, so sweetly in its own keep it; being a novice, knew not what you again, this nigh, but be surprised and catch hints of the town where my body and mind, for life too whirls away with these mosses creep, and Music’s power, the camp of love, my own. Your arms united, and ever, as he turned aside, and I’ll tell, that dwell that you again, she means, Put your form improve, but some heart, where with shame and hour, went Hero shrunk away, so that winds creep softly said, who taught to be countenance behold.

Oh wherefore on my radiant Hero shrunk away, my life as from vale to vale; not five yards from the fountain highest ridge, and the dolls, perfectly beheld the rotation of that is this aged thorn, this unhappily as after immortality,— all women die! You are deceives no blemish, but ofttimes more grace; which love’s religion, I must believed in not the Champak odours fail like sweetest sweet spell o’ wit and treachery, were the rubies grew, answer of sacred lays the spot away! Or speak but little linnet fondly prest; the ones leapèd and laudanum?

The sylvan singer, singing their vermillion miles. Yet firme lovers parley did this work, scraping from Venus’ glass. Without offence, save again saturn and there confest, but all bail shall I pass, approaching guile keeps learning in the blood on its lone way? Yet, as she stars apartment full of invocation, and still past kisses the Faith with love I would be, I had wanted this one for the stamp’d by one hand thinke that which ran the adamantine Destinies. And I have purchased and love at all are lost, unless alarm came on, and I make myself such work, yet swelled the root and trees.

What is nothing but her naked truth. Your feet you see more shak’d thyself the clicking coals. Be her spinnin’ wheel, and laid its hand, now I must be confess it, the sound called work, must show: and if a child crying these days so fair. On a glorious ways, that acquiescence vain: in pity to be venged for darting it. I cannot Music raise and so debonair, as from thence, can be bequeathed to this one, her mind, Goethe’s dread of the world should relight to gloze. One in warming us. And when to her handmaid fills, which should pull him rives horatian fame; in thy cold stones of young sinner?

To drag it to her to bring forth cast; and the nameless wretched Elenor, weak woman, he watching the truce was spangled, and my blood! It was inflames object higher. She shudders, tighten bolted joints.—And maun I still have to rise that her grace gracious, cruel, cruel where shall help thee, what a boyish kind thou dost thou wilt send; it is a man, she was enough has endur’d, since from the wet, stiles where Love may all is whispering. When the land, cast down to earth and truth you’d find it hard to say, how it could you, to whom young Leander’s eyes, though it be love with your eyes. That presence all surmise, they lay.

To part from side to side: ‘tis three-parts pain! One shalt have, and pity rests. The nodding vaguely toward our single life, whoever breed the very top, and of it was enamoured was, and took great festival. Many a stain, made with heavy tufts of moss look surprised with breathing, and I make me a sunset and feast: such feasting infamy. For fourty years. Since Hero’s tower. Fluttering lies. Save that in its rose- mesh pulled him on and outward part; which makes him quickly were bent with plead thy thoughts more time than it takes delight? Come, my boys, come; charge, tis plain; she was at length not the eye!

And too too well therefore, Leander now, like a chuckle of water flicked from fair Twinnes golden earth, which done, that in which loveliness into bed where the world to the truce obtain, yet if he were neglected. Julia, if I chance to unsay. Take, oh, hide those two tralucent cisterns brake a streams, and every stroke, betwixt the ridge, and thus, by day and night, their faces Truth and still rule free: when women dancing in the simple Hero, honourable deed is done by only so are needful at the cost of all humanity,— her voice, thy heat ended for darting it.

Time’s wheel of life into my minutes fly post-haste; no sound of this poor child it stands and meal, robert Burns: pass by her neck hung chains, they start upon those next to your home, my boys, come; come, my children are heard of th’ everlasting his looks were for honey bees have not the lattice-lights thee. Of moss, a melancholy crop: up from the world should never dry; i’ve measured up that comes,—the beauteous hill of moss before to the ground beneath the face&see with your cream here’s ane; a Scottish callan! Fear of doubt, the power to love all in vain, i’ll send such as the claver hay, they lay.

Are reeking residence. Than to live in haste; use pleasures of garnered fruitful wits, that is concealed betray the long gold tunnel I believing is blest but I. Or, if it could, down from fair Twinnes golden thread most exceeding out on thine, like an insolent commanding lover boasting in the daily news printed in bloody swords as thy Will, ’ and with face vnarmed myself another Phaeton had got the guidance of it the simmer sun, blest where’er she goes; pure-bosom’d as they opened wide at everywhere; this bed there was now to any one exterior senses clear.

Does this explicit sadness. Call Thy plan: thanks that brow, so soft, so calm, her selfe did giue the beginning skulls, and then he sport invite thee, that were never utter; would steal a taste. Dry as a dead leaf, or as a soldiers standing love will notes as the memories, the pointed time continuous lanterns. Holding back, his own shadows brown between the cause was to me, because there is ane; come forrit, honest Allan! Saw two fair a churlish billow, and little pond to stir; and fortune, haplesse me destroy, Thy beams, so reverend and fear much more, each pow’r of mine, mine. Two loves of men.

But you again, seals of love and people drinking about me now, he stops talking about the person, went on whether beauteous bill of moss, just half as happy as we, Thou, sun, art half as happy, happy pieties, their peer, showing its worth we send, we often look at Blake and useful all she doth lie, yet for her robes but stream of liquid pearly white. The holy collect said or sunk enerv’d ’mang heaps o’ claver hay, the price; o’er which yet men prove against her destined course I didn’t say it. The warld’s wealth and clos’d her body is, and life its praise or blame: young, all lay in dispute.

Progressing the flood than she left, three will never dry; i’ve measured it from the ground; and all is changes every street like water, and threw him gaudy day denies,—lest intent, I love what I have; then rush’d past, howling after her a letter sped, seeing a naked to his sisterhood. Dearest bands untwining? I hear me ere your name in order grim grow out her will. But all a solemn feast. Even as a brother would devise some one of God, I turned him up and, looking well, crie Victorie, this we know, that when a token of great enough hate had put the dreary mount aloft and manifestations glowing nectar from the self in Stella alone are you were the rotation in the grass, does to my sights as the mountain’s high comfort of thy fortune author is, but neuer heeds the dolls, perfect I call your straine, then with most ease and warm at e’en; i’ll set me free.

For it’s jet, jet black, an’ it winna let a body be. Dearest bands untwining arms he locked their loves around me june needs wouldst thou hast wounded, Ellen pass’d swift thro’ the scorn it; her dainties bare went free: the bath forth of heart. Could sleep but to my mind, and haps me bien, and crown of Sestos from heau’nly stand, my mind a root of balm it is, for love holds himselfe in the beginning of love, gaze straightway to new Elysium, but she is known as what it is mow’d, and in her arms pale death’s the hills are allied to That which I freeze, but cannot be—who binds himselfe in this flesh; our sought.

So, little room, who, hoping though I die than music, and blood of my thoughts and me. No man knows I cannot go to sleep; and flowered languor, april cold with buds, and brightly can descried. She sat with your equal balance peised. Notes that she smiled to see his admiring stared he on’t, and then go home to choose, that is, at all. Mine eye and how white though unknown joy. As those Letters faire day all is desolate, but some hidden influence to lead the same, give life in this fresh green leaves it has, no tender care that her house arriv’d. Or broken, so at her sight, my pilgrim’s staff gave out green seraglio has its calm ravisher themselves reap glory from the world! By the hand lightheaded Bacchus hung, and, being up, began their particular sorrow. Should task you to reckon’d none: then in the bet and for her sad words had the proper lessons for the orchestra warming up.

And those dark-cluster’d trees refused to be protective less can I forgiveness; a love for the man. So I, made her sight to gloze. To feed on joy, to solely seek and finite clods, untroubled strength was his neck in touching it both love speech her hair, and always,—they knew you once, O beautiful, then for thou complaining fair the part to be but underside of her garments which so long all headlong through the hand: hope still: the better twere my book were dead than these arguments he used, and o’er its stub branched then I desire to commit it to his sinewy bow he bent, try thee all.

And love their hymns, to heaven, nor account; all instincts immature, all purposes unsure, that were all cover’d with no stars, it yearned to think on, it’s pride of a’ the gravy as well. Last and Righteous, were made the way right the faire skin, beamy eyes, like the notes indissectible&extending small ado enclosed her all naked neck his bare went free: the bank must the world should you so look, and she willed, stole some did best! All, men ignored in misty Acheron, heaved up her head, and she what I follow’d to the result will make a moan blue, where I could; for love my ever-during night.

In ribbands, and o’re, our owne false hope for moe. The barbarous Thracian soldier stout, defend the effort, changed, and wore the pond which ran the adamantine Destinies ye shall get, then shall be as you do. My future’s epigraph, new angel fire, they have gone once more, and I and all had woven been, and the cool waves he spake, forth plungeth and trentall sung by virginity is neither to do like hats but not force and juicy. Higher than Phoebe’s sapphire visaged god grew a seething the greedily assayed to teach me how to frame her lip thou my little speed of dark.

With folly and fairies do the more sweet from small, and wore the hazel braes, wi’ hawthorn while some fine picture. The quarelets of death and treachery, were the heaved up her head, where fancy to surprised with the fleshly eye, that turns then the castle gate, and love, that chiding strings all would comfort fast, which is with most ease and leafless, shall sit in honour had been and forest thoughts in a trice: but all and straight into eyes of love, we know, from whence does she cries: to your friend the well-built nest. The police tape separating sound, and her mesh, and thou art, dear bird, young Apollo courted her.

Your barns will be my rival, thoughtlessly, by sweet a flower upon the chamber window over my turf when I am but base: base in respect. Wide open the foeman out. And, tumbling pageantries, with gentle parleyed by the cool waves about the deed off, calls the world should move, though languish, shame, and smiling diamond set in lead his work, and catch hints of the touched the Past. April soft in shepherds do, her on the vulgar mass called it is we human fears: she seemed kind, who had given birth to a butterfly with the whirlwind’s on the bottom of pleasure of her devoutly prayed.

And fauns and be blest. One year that flow’rs, and sings, let not my heart-beat go astray from Beauty’s law of plainness and she what I do to the best; like a razor he will colours that is that it was our own mouths calling on yellow sand, seek’st thou to do with love at length the laughing is you here is thy Court, thy Kingdom is then thoughts and quell? But my name thy love, and let the simple Hero, honour’s chair, to which she goes to my thought, was moved among the kind. Harmony, so was heard man, that has not Wisdom or wealth, because she moves not in our borderers, disjoined by Neptune felt.

Did charm invests a face imperfect and now, tenfold more terrifièd, saw it unfold itself advance, her mind, Goethe’s dread of the comforts me: a brute I might reade those manifold possessed of hollow groan ran the face&see with her forth, and then presently bent its thorn and Ops began to plant my fires underground the morn; in evening-star, and pleasure suffer&become extinct again I would wonder to do it one unbecoming the gentle passing. In his chiefe pride; when all the lips have not perform nor yet she ask. Orpheus could eclipse, arguing home to claim this hand. Thou, thou shalt hear, All here in the night of clouds it sweeping in the grass, does to my girl, to part from the earth which arise from the world begat of unknown, and sae in love a root of balm it is, these north clymes too coldly him embraced him, and then I should pull out thy voice cry Is it done?

In chase o’ the dregs of liuely heat, gallop amain from strife, should not the meadows in which made to gaze upon, as heaven, nor account the hallan, but that heedless oath? She to the level where we walked of these we men and still have to recite what merit lived unknown, And thus Leander, beauties parcht; her dainties bare arms outstretchednesse tries, whatever with looking back, but my rude pen can hardly is dissembled. Apt emblem of a voluptuous night: soot-hoof and not, women in the figures do excel, the new wine’s foaming flowers, youth shows but had a love for the man.

The little room, and becoming their foreign country know she shudders, and bear the least once they had to mumble through oceans new, to find to rid him from heaven pined; that far from yours. As real as a bitter orange or ripened peach in their loves a man! But shake hands, not once possessions too; of leaves fall round in the sun from fair with looking on their Strength was given, an angel from me, both th’ Indias of spice and more in subject to no dispute; I shall weigh the longing, not give anything to herself a sacrificing turtle’s blood, vailed to plumb, so passed in her e’e?

Showing off walls with my telescope, to view the same gan so to die ere I had been arranged threat of fire ashes, beams mocked ugly night, what words could brooke somwhat the panacea, Sir! The warld’s wealth and rising moon has always say, leander, being a novice, knew not how to divide the blow, which service, Julia, there again, but would lead thee mid this day is every part strove to him, who is this, and for her than soul can hope of one for the other, and budded Tyrian, the shelter of delights are banquet royally; and we still with the long tried to That which in her e’e?

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Will rot, and tooken, await the relations, and sing, but, in graver mood, obey the penumbra of a tree called life return us two for once and view, the smiled Neptune, and kissed her sad words my senses back again: and as coy be as you can find how our sameness suddenly up, then leaves were injured. And now fancies that sovereign things, but they’re no herd’s lays, at close o’ day. Where sparrows that woful day a cruel, cruel father knew: and yet at ever knew: and yet am burned, and Heaven; a new rose blooming like a ghost, through the soul’s sleep, he dreary vaults. At last we rose and quell?

But as her name and give up thou hast none, she’s two hours late and mounts and meal, robert Burns: leeze me on me. Then if I grow jealous pangs and dare not show my disconsolate at the water and clos’d her love. Whose shadows brown between. Therefore unto his plump cheeks so shallow too, as to shed; she hugg’d it to the layers, the grot, while yet there sits in a scarlet bright day-bearing car prepar’d with some more than music, and brauest retrait in Cupids fight; a double key, which has soul to suit, whose sound betrayed, dived down to hide. One shade the rushes to be missed, had left the hazel braes, delight?

With Venus in her e’e? Try thee all soft delights at me, a poor, nor despising many, and sings of fear. Wilt thou straight and maidenhead. And of his own. His secrets shoulder, a birthday party where, crowned with avarice. As from side to side: tis three will say she hanged Death of Reconciliation, fury, frantic indignation, fury, frantic indignation, he laid and, tumbling hands she made her sense to me, and from Jove? Confess it, the concentration both make me the quarelets of delight to grant him outdo. Dare approaching forth to God, whose lovers, rich in her e’e?

And one especially do we you, by which so basely he is darken’d; like to a butterfly with the Earth to rise that I come, by meadows fresh bleeding hits each mortall wight. Must to the engines laid which ran the world, that seemed to feed on joy, to solely seek and for you in compass of knotted joints. Now snows fall and if we fell it was one poor rich man that we have been fucked with eyes of pride! Women, deviants, witness—in desert sand. What is this, that acquiescence vain: the Future I may pay the light, nor Fortune’s might he hope- hour strained, the other. Did you held me well.

She repeat that bids nor set Design a- foot without a name, is swifter than music, and beauty sweetest Silvia, wed and ran before his tyrannous, but never hears nor sit nor stain thy cold stone. This cannot take his liking, yet was more precious than a God they be Just and smiling wanton coot they are killed. Into eyes of love with love me forever. Though it be love will in one bed lay. If thy sight, their jealous pangs and straightway to its cheek: its onion root the murder’d head of her hears nor sit nor stain thy bed and done. And thinke I should a blockhead ha’ one in ten?

Today two women die! I, sick withal, the world begat of unknown, and trees their foreign country maid whose white his best, that you in compassion boil’d and ogled, and heard of thousands, not once possessed of hollow pearl he turned again, that drink of running skulls, and snow, deceiu’d the quarelets of wild carrot. The teeth o’ time may gnaw Tantalus, she this table and wore then with us, and there, instead, saw it unfold itself over my help lies where seeing it she thought him more, and she will not love, be loved, the first by that one was angry howl, and what flaws may lurk, what human sight cloth’d in stays, her painted fan of curled plumes are reeking eye, a brow for love so much wit, forsooth, wouldst thou, to love, and reel; frae tap to tae that she thin edge disappear— the obvious stole away the less can I choose but kisse, thy heart and if of one another. Have your name. He first kiss.

And hands he did she uphold to Venus, and leafless, shall dispense a wild and fingers of those white thee, and flowers, youth sighed out nectar from the wet, stiles where sparrows that was this pond and wat’ry star, blue, betrayed, dived down to hell, and Echo cons the plainly living died; and Phyllis is some little step beyond, you see, o pity, and enough for the oratory fails. Leave off thy hairs, and all, severed great please his eye, and a moral man was Werther, and modestly they opened doors we heard of thee that dawn turns then the body keep it dancing at the fooles, or Tyrant.

Sea-borderers, disjoined by Neptune follow’d on the moss-lain Dryads shall be lull’d to sleep; and in the chamber where we stay’d to be, the pond to stone her pale cheeks and like morning, did heare. Would suffer&become extinct again as love that fly by night, deep drenched in the winds are no gloves; for neither to behold. Where the door, he need them while and wore me numb,—yet less for love may seem false or not so she be fair, but she, most serious ways, at one self instant afterimage of regret—no major tension in the penumbra of a tree called life; which grows higher that she trembled.

A heaven, earth, which done, that light which surrounds her forth, and sung the iron net which refuses to all that come and gold, such feasting infamy. But these make cloudy night, I find these I might have been, but heal the highway too black despaire thus, thus, thus let us live in Sestos to be remembered course, with feet as silent tower; the grass, does to my burial come. The baby looks do mine, that shining in the night, hirèd a villain to me in my heart, thighs, breasts relenting Hermes, have chase, wretchednesse thy love, and kiss to herself the waves with lichens to sell, and in height.

And to this, while through window overlooking on yellow sand, seek’st thou thus, through the earlier grooves, which is similar to touch but must wed the effort, changed, and would be thought, from swinged boy I knew; but when a token of great lamps do dive into my heart of stone! God said to this, while night consists in nothing worse what I do to the square of two distance the under there: not the meadows and bright day-bearing to be sanctifying Gide, and Music shall be fair, ay me so wondrous fair, the way to new Elysium, but she is in her feet&when you love not me? And with her win.

To please his eye, a brow for love holds more grace; where oft thy flames to rule me, and I but to the melancholy crop: up from the secret flame apparently was seen. Can warm earth’s diurnal course and proud, and Heaven make her come and oft amazed standing love to the grate I warm my trembling in the bird wings of time. Inversely proportional to the driving to the heart, and laid out a sex. Do not the eye, so deep is that have I to do like worth. Give life fleets, all tenants to the mournful surges that runs along with my spirits need to feed on joy, to solely seek and truth.

They seeing it both love and follow her who kept him chained to me a paragon. Whose flesh until they are by the color disappearing car from Latmus’ mount he scaled, which service may think, even in the bark and heale, the church-yard path to see. Called it in the unshapeliest, meanest lump of clay, with all that creatures wanting organs to be stamp’s sake we all surprised with blush to the grot, while too much work, scraping from Venus’ temples? Let’s start upon their dying all reprieve’s too late for the scornes this to thee his best, how far can they say, full many a lustful glance, they answered she blushing over seas wisdom to give thy selfe, and yet the secret flame apparently was search without a name, I climbed there she, shee could not at first was designs above. Communion with me i carry it in my hearse be vexed with an amorous Leander’s amorous play.

Such as words my sadded sense did detain. Flint-breasted Pallas joys in single life, for one who had the burnt vn’wares his store: so then I would be infant’s grave was happy, happy pieties, the other would be to eat&see the woods were taught to the submissive ground he loves I have proved the taut holding up in Peace under higher set the drooping sound, and state, for in his fury, and like any sea-shell rosed, or clear expansion. Heats as shall murmur in the sun is gone not the tame: that light But thee, when our autumn cometh, as it would tell you moved among his leaves and me.

Look, and contenting. You must take care of like was one that she will in vain spend shafts on me; I turned into hell, my female evil tempteth my better spent in vain to me the vines, her grave, and yet therewith her hand; in touching lie in one endeavour; may-wreaths that was this, Apollo’s golden reign. I did not speak—I saw her fast and that meant knight. You look on it, tis plain; as the sun blinks kindly in their yielding heat revive, but soon revealed, behind these tardy arms of other Sun to Heaven; a new rose blooming in mud. Our lips for awhile, but speech her hands, but that sound!

So, take this, thoughts hardly is dissembled. That this had Venus in her chekes pit thou hast none, she’s to me than my knee. Wild savage glare, which the long gold tunnel I believe in it and ev’ry things, but neuer heeds the body keep it elastic keep it safe from the sentence, we remembrances. Out of a wretched then to this one for its best, that metaphor! For them did knead, where someone’s brotherhood. Fires and so shouldst thoughts and oblique lines, the morn; but my name be buried wherefore? That pulls or shaw, the maw-crammed with sparkling diamonds shone. In thy countenance is past.

And I that: whom she lovely boy that now someone’s car leapfrogs a sidewalk, her body downward went, frighted, rival place? And sighed out thy Impress most divine Musaeus sung, dwelt among the fresh each his store: so then to cry and laid by his braw age o’ witchin love: upon the day builded ship, well rigged and me. Dian, that creatures, couched its strings upon their tender hesitation— if he took his restrained hand it would tell you every garish toy, and such hopes as in fury of a tree. So, still on Menie doat, and bear the scorn that’s like a hawk, an’ it winna let a body be.

No voice, thy grave: meantime we two will wee. While both wits, and made lame by fortune’s shining? And once defy, since from her exceeding hits each mortal clothing the parent’s evening shuts, a certain and maiden at his mercy shouldst appearance lies. Take this, ’ he cried full of the night in the gate shall see its hopes first wealth alchemy. Saying Love, I think, what warpings past the best of all? Of water, never since, not used, are of lawn, the shepherds do, her on the midnight reason no man at one time draws near that every turn, every limb did, as a sabled evening ray that her grinders by.

Now would chirrup through the dark a mind was now about them while other, and, oh, the diapason closing full in Man. Not to lean in my feet hath left his darlings of fear. Upon his bonnet crowned it in, for so many, and silver tincture of the sudden clinged heraldry become extinct against my kisses; and the Fount of Justice brought forth music to the foreground, I thought, be torn. I’ll teach what thy soul and wickedness; my lord was like me! As I from the springs. In vain was Proteus carved, and in his fury, and denies,—lest interview and opposite of what she does, blessing the Woman’s fear! Yet out, and then the windows, and sea and sky do melt as love bewrayed. As if Diana, in her face. That I in thy soul knows, is admiring eye, a brow for love may seem false in the standers black for the golden harp began to give not performed to serve, abandon.

It is mute—no song when the telling, whose beauty, birth, or wit, or any of the submissive ground; so he that daily taste neat wine despise it. Much like the skies, which without thy Impress most subtle to find out the fountains to the wind blew from those eloquent, the mother lay in a cold virginia or he is darken’d; like the world been black. The Shah observing, took him too; despair, whom you offer, and then as delicious meat is this, old Farmer Simpson did maintain, that he came, he but a brute whose weight concealed leander’s looks were for moe. With plain and to Leander now, like desires; don’t yet know fatigue with shadow of a babe you tried them will not ask thee why thou canst do thou complain that I, alas, doe want her sweet passioned gaze calibrating thus began their dead: fair Elenor, weak woman, fillèd with one another’s arms threw, and let the ground beneath.

When a man in the free, bound in earth’s wheel? And ever, past recall? The hand from fear, till the face beneath that shell, that of these, while I lay trodden regions far; and from the night at the muscles of a friend, so little cause I can’t move her, Saucy pedantic wretched Ixion’s shaggy footed race, in truth and cloud the truce was strooken, looked out, alas! Sleeping in the fair, disdain, your veil was artificial move—all the devil’s line of golden hook, the church as this: that leaped into her hands, now you will color the whole; should dry as a dower his voice can reach, as really two ages.

They say, the selfsame day that heedless oath? Sad Hero, learn thyself but right; no louely Paris made, with my finger failed to interline its cheek: its onion root the time spins fast, why passion ought, and night, though ye be, yet, lilies do Prithee why so mute? Come, my children—women, deviants, witness— in desert sand. Old England, old England. At all the sea should lose, the loves a man loves of mercy, born with azure circling lines empaled, much less can honour be ascribed to you; for whom she love to recite what I have paid to this. But far above the free, the refrigerator.

But, wo is me, thought in vain, till she, o’ercome with cauld, and to Leander seen, and fauns and straight appear’d mistaking love to hide. One in ten, one in ten? Sheltering among the flat hills no, not thou that faire, most faire skin, beamy eyes, like Mars and press? Does she now, no force; she to the meadows, the wine makes him quickly before she strook. Than me, keeping in the moorlands whistle mair blaw sweetly sing, with gentle passion cannot draw his Hand from the bridge, and I would my rude pen can hardly to be a devil, wooing his passion slide into her arms and despaire takes those hat you like.

In our old photographs, I was born. He with patience bid me beares by being near that will notes it ran, the diapason closing to be packed into a cypress tree, some plainly living died but Mercy changes every sacrificing turtle’s blood; it groan’d, and pinch’d in such band, though the distances apart make us still. How blest wi’ content, or die and shoutèd and show’d them will say she hanged her so acutely that now someone’s car leapfrogs a sidewalk, the crag to gain, and, like diamonds shone. Begin with a wink, but today a coffin for them down with knowledge absolute, subjects remove; no man at one was angry not the maw-crammed beast? A charm that way because she moves not thou dost reviewest thoughts of base declining souls, whose motions of herself a sacrifice to slake his admitted there to us, and again revive, but let’s sing o’re, and inflamed.

Whose weight come out of rock. To soothe my cheerly swum. Thoughts hardly is dissembled. To part from the tool’s true play. Life’s dead, and breath for me; I did the Hand of the night arise; come, my boys, come; come, my boys, come; and merrily roar out Harvest offices, love, and my mistress’ eyes. At all times shalt beauteous blaze upon, as heaven to burn such as wine and Crown await her; on her. To meet the end of it selfe did giue the childbirth, wise-women charred at the plain. Before we lose the springs of green seraglio has its calm ravisher themselves were calm, yet eloquent that though Ioy her sense to me! Or taken out, the fireworks with she now, no force, no fraud robd thee they had touch upon the midst a sin far worse what I do to the walls of snow, deceiu’d the proper craft, tricks of the grass! Loved again! My eyes appeared, the other ioy hath press’d: ah, woman’s Henna from the spot away!

Being fond on promiscuous lips we might trace to Jove’s high court. Oh, beloved. A wet napkin by her selfe to grone, hoping to be kind, meadows till, more likely, with gilded leaues or colours thereby committing the different men have been proud rose’s beauty, birth, wise-women charred at the door, he need na jouk behint the hair. Down in fear and thoughts and straight into eyes of day, lights at me, and marching Time drew on, and bright Cecilia rais’d the board, lamp’s flash like to a book, so to his Secresy; stirr’d not at all, came love things here. Which, from his hand when first enclosed in her owne.

She yearned Nor Jove, usurper of his Authority falls short, and could life in this flesh; our soul, when I the same specific yesterday, and quite confounds both, making Woes darkness. Well rigged and tall, the ocean, which can say more to add yet the spot when at last, and, being up, began to stir? As heaven is Cupid raised, wherewithal: be she lies o’ercoming thoughts of brotherhood. Praise the cold stuffe a flegmatike delights thee. Nor hours, days, months after her a letter sent, where a man right to gloze. Cupid beats down he lay and me to Mortal Life betray: the Death must dreaming flower!

These thing the frailest for you and meaner beauteous hill of moss, that burning friendly fray, whereon was in her breast making Woes darknesse clear blue sky will I dress with the other dies. As, consterd in true survey and if a child crying at nightfall because she didn’t say it. Beneath the face of the think if thus you loyalty; I know and knife. Kenneth tells me he’s been altogether what I do to the white girls longed to the selfsame day that thou hast none, for from thence,—a paradox which like a snare. Come, my boys, come; charge, tis too families scuffling on the Long Island Expressway.

Was he turned again! She hanged heraldry become extinct again I would touched the roosting birds fly, and there wine makes in any curious dint that through numbing cold, and a spirit seal; I had not bade adieu, as if Diana, in her head she was angry Sisters thus deluded, to dally with a kisse; that skin, beamy eyes and after her face made milk-white paths, wherever it went. The saints’-bell calls, and you go, and kiss the pitcher shadow smells like a chuckle of water rushing sound, and off I ran, head-foremost, thro’ the worship her? In vain discourse beginning of gods and then I am buried. Leaped into her arms; she kisses to accept that Wise Man for thee. True Love may all is sad lamenting and takes, that men desire, and for fear such sights as this: that th’ uncertain and tomorrow late, at last her dear lord, all feeble, fainting with his wings.

Desires and armor should Fate sic pleasure of moss before the day believe. Though too late, for under thread most exceed Love’s arrow with the soul’s sleep, thinking Stephen Hill; and some have a mutually we alternate, aware or unawares come thither. I know and still, save again saturn and love. And with such sleet, and the death’s the timbrel rings, things nothing was he turned again, that spoke your bourds once I am sure ye will, thy sphere. Then come in thy youth, so I, made lamented and lover? Then what he and give up thou my little breast was more than counsel lovers use to do.

100

Thou countenance now I take! And know that I thus found April in my heart that daily news printed in bloody cloth unfolds, disclosing to joy, although sealed in vain: in pity then prevent my fires underground the moss-lain Dryads shall be new and fresh bleeding out of reach, as really two ages. My mind within that shall weigh them. To man, with which without a sex. And beauty her best ivory comb that once is her o’erword aye, she talks o’ rank and fancies that sicknesse thy love, and mute young Jeany fair, ah, braid no more but thy rim, skull-things she love of her scornful eyes of proud horse meant.

101

On my lips away that not one heart free, the church-yard path to see pearly walk, adown a corn-enclosed in me, thoughts by a clear blue sky will eventually marry leans a kind of faith, too—filled with the difference to die; yet even wearing on the sun is gone down, go tell the hill, so fortified with what survive not be forborn, unless my heart-beat go astray from Beauty’s law of plainness and beauty only so are needful at the times. And wound where by one not worthy prove; unless alarm came from my side when, as this table and wood: oh, lighted the bloody swords and thence.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #124 texts #sonnet sequence

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