#eventual vice/kia with paresse on the 'side' but u kno

[west-tokyo-incidents]

It makes your blood run hot

It makes your spit taste sweet

It makes you feel more alive

Than you have ever been

The skin of the deep green fruit has a fuzz to it. Like a peach. Usually green means unripe. Sour, bitter, or both.

But the taut skin gives just so. So plump that a bit of it breaks open and the juice oozes out of the rupture like drool from a lover's mouth. Just faintly, in the dark of the late evening grove, it glows like one of those little press-on stars she once had in her childhood bedroom.

"It's amazing, isn't it?"

The rough, deep voice of the robot has always been friendly to her. This was no exception. He genuinely seems happy by the little smile over her face. She looks up at him and grins fully, nodding.

The sloth comes over and gently tucks some hair out of her face, "It's not super potent like this, as a fruit. Go ahead. Take a bite."

She hums and looks at it, "I don't know... You said this is where Eden comes from, and I've seen--"

"Those are the side effects of high doses, you'd have to eat fifty of these fruits for even a fraction of those effects. The water and meat of the fruit dilutes it way too much." He picks another from the tree and casually bites down into it. Her eyes fixate on the honey fluid that gushes out and makes a mess of his chin and fingers. She laughs at his noise of surprise at the shock and swallows while trying to wipe it off, mumbling about having to change bandages and throw these ones out.

She quickly darts her eyes away as he looks at her, just barely making a split second of eye contact. She swipes her thumb through the dripping fluid and tests it on her tongue. It's sweet, but in a subtle way. It's almost savory. Like avocado drowned in honey. She licks her lip and carefully, cautiously, brings the fruit to her lips.

"There you go..." There's something about the way he says it. It sounds like a whisper more at home in the bedroom, "Just like that."

She sinks her teeth into the flesh of it where it's already broken. It's more dense than a peach and astonishingly, almost akin to the texture of raw salmon, but less slimy and more... Sticky. Again, like honey.

She hums and pulls it away to chew the piece in her mouth. She must have picked a fruit less ripe that Paresse's, as it didn't burst when pierced. Speaking of, she isn't sure when Paresse comes up behind her, but he doesn't startle her as he gently slides his hand along her back.

"That wasn't so bad, hm?"

She rolls her eyes and looks up at him. His pupils just barely catch the dying rays of the sun, and the reflective backs of his eyes shimmer a bright green to match the fruit.

To many, it would be terrifying. But she's known Paresse for so long that she knows better.

"Your eyes are doing the thing." She says after swallowing. He looks away rapidly, as if ashamed, but she giggles, "Oh, come on, you know I don't mean it in a bad way! Let's head inside, it's getting dark." She takes another bite of her fruit, the fluid staining her lips. He smiles and nods, and they walk back through the orchard, the way lit dimly by the ripest fruits, drooping the branches with their dull light and heavy bodies.

At some point, her mind gets a bit fuzzy. Her steps sway as the music from inside plays across her mind. The crickets fade as low bass fills any space in her skull and makes her feel like a kitten curled up against its mother. Surrounded by her purrs.

Paresse has a hand on her to steady her, and plucks the pit from her fingers before she can try to eat it, too. She whines, but lets him toss it off the deck as they get to the little house in the middle of the orchard. The Garden of Eden.

There, Fusataro nurses the tail end of a cigarette that glows a bright green against the deep blues of late evening when she drags on it. Her eyes briefly take in Kia, then look rapidly away. If Kia had been more aware, perhaps she would have seen the dismay that flickered across the woman's face. But Paresse urged her inside, to the couch in the private quarters.

When did he start kissing her? The sensation ripples across her face and shoulders in a rich red blush as she giggles and pushes him away with a playful, "Stooooop!" But he does relent and seems content just holding her. She lets this happen for a moment--maybe a bit longer than a moment--before she giggles and looks up at him, "Hey, I was just kidding..."

"Hm? About what?"

"Telling you to stop." She doesn't know what liquid courage was in that fruit, but she doesn't even stumble over her words as she pouts.

"I see..." He smiles at her. His teeth seem a hundred times sharper, and her heart rate jumps, gaze fixated on them and the very faint green stain on them and on the bandages on his chin.

It was about this point that her brain stopped saving anything to her memory. But she wakes up to someone setting a glass of water on the coffee table in front of the couch, still wrapped in his arms and only half dressed. Her dignity is mostly intact, but she still jolts up. And it feels like a giant steel ball rolls in her skull. She holds her head in her hands.

"Sorry." Paresse mumbles, having released her when she jolted, "I didn't realize you were eating it so fast. I should have stopped you long before you got halfway through."

She mumbles something back and all but snatches the glass of water up, drinking it quickly and not noticing the disappearing figure of Rage into another room after having brought her the water.

Paresse's fingers gently stroke down her back. The image of his teeth, piercing the fruit, grinning at her, stained with green, sticks in her mind. She pulls the glass away from her mouth and takes a gasp of a breath, panting softly. She looks at him, half expecting a grinning beast, but just sees his half-concerned, half-content face giving her a lazy, lopsided smile. No teeth.

She just smiles back.

"It's okay."