#This AU is actually heavily poly ot4 implied for the end of it but???

[k-l-s-h]

Flowery Taste on the Tip of our Tongues - Avant goût

To @krasnyzmeya, who gave me so many muses including Ange. Probably the one I’ll always love the most.

               They were supposed to meet in the same dusky bar, in which both of their brothers had dragged them into, a little more than a year ago now. Only this time, it was just the two of them. And this time, nothing was the same.

Ange was sited in a corner, not too far away from the bartender. Watching pensively the ice cubes of her drink melt slowly. Remembering. It had been so out of the blue, the way they all crossed path again. After four years of dead silence. Since they went away and her and Arch went through surgery. He forgot them almost entirely. Feeling a void without knowing who or what used to fill it. But she, on the other hand, remembered. She remembered them, everything they shared and everything they lost. She remembered her.

She just, didn’t care.

That’s what the surgery did to her. Desensitizing her of emotions, as the doctors said. But then the Zhang twins came back. Smashing their way into her life once more, when Aaron ran into Arch on his way home. Or more precisely, when his sister’s dog ran to Arch and started to jump around him happily. He too, had forgotten everything. But where they were only faceless shadows in Arch’s memory, Aaron just didn’t remember. As if someone had erased their very existence out if his life. He knew that he’d been in love and that someone else was very dear to him as well, from what his sister told him. But that was all.

And his sister.

She was the one that changed the most. The one that lost the ability to love. But it was nothing like what Ange was going through, no. Because where the Russian woman was reduced to an unemotional and coldblooded being, she still felt affection. She loved her little brother like she always did. That didn’t change. She just did not show it. But her though, she didn’t even felt love for her own twin brother anymore.

That’s what made them all so different.

And then, they all met again. After the two men bounded oh so easily, for the second time in their life. The same couldn’t be said for them though. Their first conversations filled with silences and tension. No. They didn’t bound like their brothers did. At least not like them and not after some time. Things only started to change, when she did manage to irritate her.

 “Why haven’t you told us?” She broke the silence. Her tone was demanding, but still managed to stir something in the redhead, that wasn’t quite yet used to hearing again, the smoky timbre of her voice.

Arch and Aaron were both at the bar. Waiting for their drinks and more then probably, making the most of their few minutes away from them. From the rampant strain between them all.

She downed her drink, eyes carefully studying her form. “I thought that you didn’t gave a shit about us all.”

Th ice-skater brought her glass to her lips, taking a slow sip of her rum before she locked eyes with Ange. “No. You’re wrong.”

A pause. She arched one of her brows at her. Her eyes briefly darting behind the mixed-race, at the window. It was snowing outside.

“That’s you that you’re describing.” She explained without missing a beat. Cold stare moving back to their brothers. “I don’t love anymore that’s true. But it doesn’t mean that I don’t want to understand.”

 Ange scowled lightly at the memory. Even before the surgery, people used to point out how impassible, unemotional she tended to be. Hell, even her own brother used to say that where he was hypersensitive, she on the other hand had the sensibility of a wall of brick. Of course, he was only half-serious about it. Arch knew how his sister really was deep down. She didn’t care much about the opinions of strangers anyway. But the twins. Those damned Zhang twins. They never assumed that and maybe that’s why it annoyed her at the time. Especially coming from her. Because yes, one saw right through her. Just as she saw right through him. Allowing themselves to be magnificent and terrible at the same time, with each other.

But then there was the other.

The one that made her feel everything twice as much. Even when she didn’t show it, she could feel her blood boil in her veins. Her jaw ache with the need to let her lips stretch in a carnivorous smile. The thunderous laugh rumbling in her chest, trying to make its way out of her mouth like a tidal wave. She pissed her off, made her soft. She made her impatient and almost envious, when she spent time with her younger brother but not her. She made her pupils blow out with hunger. A shudder ran down her spine, as other memories made her head spin and heat pouring in the pit of her stomach, between her thighs. She could still taste on her lips, the flavor of their sleepless nights that smelled like cigarettes after sex. A faint scent of flowers too, floated in the air tainted by the city lights, that rolled on their naked bodies while she painted her skin with her lips, teeth and ink. Like a blank canvas, that was only hers to tarnish and adorn. And she did the same with hers, that was already filled. Covering her up with black, red, blues and love bites.

She was supposed to not feel anymore. And yet, that tiny woman that looked like ice but felt like fire, ignited the embers in her veins, filled her lungs with the smoke of her breath and branded her chest and hips with her fingertips. Her sultry voice making it hard to breathe and her smoldering words, fueling her anger and passion and everything that made her, her, with a renewed desire for more. Anything and everything.

Fuck.

A frustrated grunt leaved her lips. Where the fuck was she?

Ange just knew that the she-devil was making her wait on purpose. She was never late. But here the redhead was. Last time she checked, they were supposed to meet fifteen minutes ago. And Ange would not give her the satisfaction of sending her a message first. She could already see that fucking grin on her lips and two could play this game. It was infuriating. She was infuriating.

But, maybe that’s why, Ange fell for her all over again.

She never made the same mistake twice. But if she’d learn something from her encounter with the Zhang twins all those years ago and now, it was that there was a first time for everything with them. With her. At least she knew for sure, that the same could be said from her and her brother. The Zakharines were under their skins just as much as they were under theirs. And not everyone could say that they made someone that couldn’t love, fall for them.

Ange abruptly raised her head up. Eyes almost immediately falling on her.

Arria.

There she finally was, at the entrance. Dressed all in black except for her red belt, heels and lips. A leather jacket too big for her, that surely belonged to her brother, thrown on her shoulders. Her hair was tied in a high ponytail, little rebellious curls falling on her forehead.

The Russian couldn’t quite put her finger on it. But if she had to take a guess, she’d say that it was something magnetic, that flowed between them. They were like two magnets that used to repulse each other, but that now collide together. Sometimes softly though so far, violently.

As if one cue, clearer blue eyes met hers. She was stiff at first. Expression harsh, austere. But soon enough something shifted. She softened, sparks shining in her cold eyes before the grin Ange visualized earlier, twisted her lips.

She still struggled sometimes. The consequences of the surgery still there. Some days more than others. Lasting a few hours at times. It was hard. A nightmare even, when it happened. But it was ok. She had to fight it as well. Aaron and Arch too.

Going straight for the redhead, Ange knew that she was up to something just by the way she was walking. Squinting her eyes maybe lightheartedly at the brunette.

“What now?”

Ah crap. Her damned smile was the one of a fucking predator, now.

“Měirén get up. We have places to go to.”

Ange squinted a little more. A line between her brows. “I thought that you wanted to drink.”

“I changed my mind.” She retorted cheekily as she chugged the remains of her hard liquor. A familiar hint of mischief dancing in Arria’s icy blue eyes that made Ange hiss at her. And yet, she got up to follow her lead. Rolling her eyes at the ice-skater antics that were so her and yet so new.

                 Arria had started to write again recently. Filling both papers and her phone with notes full of pretty and crude words. And if Ange had asked her why and how, the Asian woman would have answer that it’s because she thought that, maybe, she had loved her long before the day they parted years ago. And that she loved her like she loved words. But neither of them did. Probably because they weren’t ready and because it sounded too cheesy.

They were passing by a park, hands and shoulders brushing when Arria stopped dead in her track. Something caught her eye and next thing Ange knew, they were in front of a massive statue. The brunette swiftly scribbling in her notebook while she leaned on its base. Observing it. At first, the character carved in the stone could’ve been mistaken for a man, with how muscular they were. But the more she looked at it, the more Ange was sure that it was a woman. The redhead barely contained her snort. She wondered how many straight girls climbed on it to kiss it. Incapable of discerning its actual gender.

“So, you really dragged me out of the bar after making me wait for you, to then pay more attention to a big piece of marble huh?”

Something playful rang in the bite of the Russian’s words, that made Arria throw her head back with laughter. A grin taking form on Ange’s lips that she was sure, the mixed-race wanted to kiss with the way she stared at them.

“You always liked my shenanigans you can’t fool me měirén. Also,” she started pensively “she kinda looks you don’t you think?”

She arched a brow at her statement. Observing its face a little more before she shrugged. She could see some similarities but didn’t care that much. Sliding behind Arria’s back and whispering in her ear instead. Smiling when she felt her shiver. “Keep on making me run around after you solnyshko and see what’s gonna happen to you later tonight…”

Then she started to walk away. On her way out without even looking back. She didn’t have to do so to know that the Asian woman was gaping at her, red spread on her cheeks. And it didn’t take long either, for her to hear the furious clapping of heels right behind her and her hand to be snatched. Arria grumbled to herself. Refusing to look at her so she wouldn’t see her blush.

Pffftr. Cute.

“So where are we really going?”

Grumbling some more, she took the lead again. Fingers now intertwined with hers. “You’ll see soon enough killjoy.”

Ange chuckled wickedly. She always won at some point. Even with her.

                “The Seine?” She asked. Brows raised and the shadow of a smirk, dancing on her lips.

The glance Arria shot at her was almost sheepish. Almost. She nudged her arm playfully. “Hush would you. That’s the closest thing to the sea I could find in the middle of Paris.”

The sea huh?

Intrigued, Ange let the Asian woman take her a little further away along the river. Far from people before they came to a stop. The lights of the street lamps were reflecting in the almost black waters. Creating something mesmerizing to observe and waking up the echo of a memory within them both.

“You know, before my surgery I went to the sea.” She started. Carefully breaking the silence, as she watched the wind play with the surface of the river while Ange was watching her. “I was in no fucking state to do so. But I forced Min-Min to buy two plane tickets for Incheon and we flew there.” A sad chuckle. A sad smile. “He was so worry and I felt so guilty… But I had to.”

A question that sounded like a whisper drowned by the noises of traffic.

“Why?”

“Because my most precious memory of all of us, of the two of us, was at the sea.”

Ange’s throat was dry, when Arria’s clear blue eyes dived into the dark waters of hers. She didn’t have to add anything. Her declaration screaming so much more than anyone could imagine. That day, was the moment where they saw, where they all truly saw who each one of them were. If Ange had to pinpoint when she fell in love with her, it was probably that night at the sea. Where Arria talked about how it reflected the endless sky and how it was scary and yet pretty. Powerful and beautiful. Arria said that she reminded her of the sea. And that she was the reason why she started to love it.

The first kiss they shared tasted like copper and anger. Teeth clashing and biting the flesh of the other lips. Nails scratching and hands pulling both red and curly hair, as grunts leaved their painted black mouths.

The second though, tasted like salt and sorrow. She still didn’t know what happened, what was said between her brother and the ice-skater. Just that she soon after came to her flat. And that, as she let herself fall on her bed, tugged at her wrist and urged her to lay on top of her between her thighs, her lips had the flavor of tears.

And as Arria got on the tip of her toes, her head falling backwards as hers leaned down, their third tasted like each other. Like cigarette and caffeine. Like spices and a hint of mint. With a faint but lingering, flowery aftertaste on the tip of their tongues. She felt Arria’s hands tangle in her hair and her lips stretch in a smile, with this one.

So Ange thought that maybe, just maybe, she could get used to that.