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Post by Asphyxia on Jul 29, 2010 0:40:34 GMT -7
"Bah... Bahm... humbug." The words had slipped off in a slight slur from a dumbly gaping mouth. Its hazy eyes clearly had been having difficulty trying to fixate on a particular object about the outside of the grandeur castle called home. As the eyes crossed around the same circle for the umpteenth time, they finally peeped around the squinted skin surrounding it, dissecting the square frame with woozy examination. "This..." a finger lifted in the air, pointing with mild suspicion while the frame took aback only on the upper torso, the body successfully not managing to keep its balance took to a step from the movement while the head lingered in a turn. "Does not look like a door." The legs dragged off to enclose the space between the body and the wall as if closer study of its plane would help making out what this thing really was. "Is it?" After an idle time of swinging around, unable to maintain a still composure, the body in question leaped quite agilely for someone who looked that was about to fall any minute by his own gravitational pull on the ground, slipping into the window sill that was propped open earlier, it seemed, to let fresh air mix in with the delicate scent of the home. From a crouching position, his legs unfurled underneath and sat over the frame, letting the rest slide uneasily until reducing himself to a stumbled mess on what seemed like the meeting room for guests, falling on everything he could find on his way which with no effort created a symphony of crashing sounds across other objects and finally several loud thumps on the floor, including him. "Ow, ow..." the frothy, white feathers poking from his white button up twitched in off rhythm with his uncoordinated walk after he'd gotten himself up from underneath the pile of furniture stocked on him. "Damn." A hand that fashioned an unbuttoned, splayed white cuff-link traveled with halfhearted effort to cover half of his groggy features, masking away some of the frustrating pangs stabbing at his head from how quickly the events had gone through his eyes. Every vision marred through his eyes had been a throbbing intrusion into his brain, thrashing his pulse further into his eardrums, ducking him further into his crouching knees to recompose himself. In an effort to get through the door, the man had confused the window for an entrance thanks to the early absence of his companion to guide him through the perpetual and potentially painful maze his state had transformed the house into. But like good guardians should, the violet-haired angel had pulled himself through and brought himself here in a trashy heap presentation. He found slight comfort in that no one had seen him yet, especially the person he was assigned to guard, which he did poorly on protecting most of the time. "Auhlright... ahhsssll." The hiss of pain seeped through again when his eyes found a bright light intruding the perfect darkness his brain so much appreciated. That enough brought his frame up to somewhat of a stand, staggering his way to turn off the lamp illuminating the room. "Better." The palm of his hands turned flatly in his direction facing him, flattening across his dismantled shirt which a once tucked in peak was dislodged from. In some sort of self-accomplishment, Trent's lips broadened into an odd, lopsided grin, continuing his goal which was the dreadful woman's room where he'd decided sleep would comfort the dizzying scatter his mind had been distorted to.
His entrance into the room had been quieter compared to the crashing, destructive one he'd made a few moments ago, which had seemed as forever had passed before he'd walk through the elongated halls, creating a more forever effect in the depths of his mind and the darting reactions of his barely opened eyes. He'd managed to slip across the distance from the door and the bed, stripping off whatever his attire had let him tug--not much besides his shoes and his belt--sighing before taking a head dive into the comfy looking sea of cushiony blankets filling the king size [bear with me xD if it's smaller, let me know, I'm just making it up as I go] bed, plowing his frame further into the already sunken depth of his weight on the bedspread. Letting his body succumb into the silky-smooth feeling of the decorating sheets, his arms extended lazily from his dive across wherever they could cover, unaware and apathetic of who would or wouldn't be occupying the bed, letting his mouth gape into an unattractive slack which a loud snore emanated from.
[as promised, trent destruction xD enjoy.]
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Post by Little Lion on Jul 29, 2010 15:39:43 GMT -7
[psh... like her bed would be smaller xD if anything, bigger but whateverrr.]
An elegant woman pulled her legs tighter to her chest, her arms squeezing around the knees an inch more. The tall field grass was dry and burned under the summer sun. It released it's final warm kiss to the back of her neck before towering black storm clouds over took it and cast it from center stage. Despite her cozy spot in the warmed grass, she could feel the vastness of the field and had shrunk away from it. She felt it's exposure, creeping loneliness and for once in her life, she felt smaller then something. A low rumble caused her head to snap up. Her eyes squinted though there was no more light. The sky was a dark blanket of patchy grey and black thunder heads. A deafening crack sent her to her feet. The low rumble brought with it a curtain of rain moving as quickly as the rest of the storm. Disheartened, her shoulders sagged and with a sigh she turned and started at a jog towards a lone tree off in the distance. As she moved, the thunder was nearly ceaseless. Bang and then a roll. Bang, bang and nothing. The rain was closing the gap between her sublime figure and it's chill relentless drops. With only the instinct of escape she ran faster. The dry grass caught around itself, unyielding to her legs pushing through. She brought her knees up nearly skipping through the miserable web when suddenly it opened up. As her foot came down, her arms teetered out. There was nothing under it but a sheer drop to a dark grey bottom. BANG Startled, she lost her balance and tumbled over with out a sound. The kick.
Rio's body jerked to life in her bed while sliding backwards into the indent her heavier guardian had made. Her hands scrambled desperately at the side of the bed, catching sheets and mattress in blanched fists anything to keep herself from falling. Fearful gasping gave way when her senses registered a stillness about her. She blinked her startled eyes until they focused through the darkness to the moonlit shapes of her room. Familiarity allowed her to take a relaxing exhale. With a smacking noise, skin to skin, her right hand met her face and slowly slid down her cheek to her neck, along the v-neck cut of her shirt and then placed her palm across her chest. She could feel her heart pounding underneath the taunt skin, feeding unwanted adrenaline to her system all the while threatening to burst out of place. "Ughhh." Her eyes fell shut. Now what had happened? A dream? As she rolled onto her back and hard knot met the middle of her shoulders causing her to sit bolt upright. "What the hell?!" The usually intimidating woman was clutching her sheets between her fists, eyes wide like a scared child. She flung her head to her right in search of the source of her discomfort. The snapping movement sent her hair straight out in a radial spin and subsequently falling in tossed disarray over her shoulders. The perpetrator's limp feathers were familiar and her brain effortlessly connected the features to a name. "Bird." Her eyes retreated behind the closing wall of thick black lashes closing into her second nature squint. Irritated, she glared at him for a solid ten seconds and only gave up after his snore ripped her concentration. "I can't... are you serious?" Instantly her figure dropped down beside his with the curiosity of cat. She propped herself up by her right elbow and her face angled close to his. Holding her breath as though it would make her invisible to him, she slowly moved her left pointer finger towards his face. She positioned it lightly on the side of his head and shoved. As her hand left his head she was already scrambling to the furthest corner of the spacious bed. Waiting, she tucked her bare legs under her body and leaned forward like an eager child. "Trent..." Her voice was barely a whisper. "Trent?" Again, her almond eyes reverted back to tiny slits but this time her lips pulled apart in a slow, devilish smile. "Oh, my poor baby." Rio stretched her body across the bed, sliding back to her collapsed guardian. As he had tumbled into her room in the middle of the night, she wasn't guest ready and only had a light cotton v-neck and overly laced boy shorts. His intrusion also meant violation of a private space and a private time. Payback was unavoidable. "Look at you..." The delighted hellcat shifted one of his wings and knelt by his side to lean over his sleeping figure. The smell of liquor drafted up to her, cluing her in on his situation. She had never actually seen Trent sleep to be sleeping, unless of course he was trying to ignore her, so it was all clear now. "All strung out." Her fingers moved in a delicate sweep through his purple mane and crawled back up for the sake of a second run. His hair was softer then she expected and there was a comfort in being able to touch someone after the emptiness her dream had instilled in her. Thoughtful eyes surveyed his prostrate body, settling on his back, then stealing a cunning look to the back of his head. A thrilling idea had crept from the dark recesses of her mind and presented itself in such excitement for a boring night that her little body trembled from a shiver. Her bottom lip slid between her teeth to provide defense against a delighted giggle. Carefully, she wiggled her legs out from under her, stealing occasional glances to his head to be aware of any signs of life but she was positive it'd take a little something to wake the fallen bird. She had just the thing. In a graceful lean, her left leg swept through the air and slid into place along Trent's left hip. She perched her light body on the small of his back, fancying the nearly perfect, rather comfortable warm spot and then she walked her fingers up his spine. Each little step they took up the slight indent of his bones brought her lithe form a little closer to him until her lips were near his ear. "What a dumb little bird you are." Having run out of spine to creep up, her fingers left him and slid across the bed, encasing the corner of her pillow with a tight fist. "You're going to have such a head ache in the morning." Her right arm cocked back and came down swinging the pillow at full force into the back of his head.
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Post by Asphyxia on Jul 30, 2010 16:11:03 GMT -7
The angel had been mostly ambivalent in his subconscious state. Every stir emanating from the woman had been a breaking wavelet in his direction, pulling him further into the comforting sheets warping his mind deeper into the subconscious blackness of the dizzying events that had occurred before he had even the slimmest possible chance of getting inside without having to destroy everything in sight, proven by his clumsy, devastating entrance through the window of opportunity near the side of the house. The slip of cushions underneath his pressed frame against the bed caused him to lowly grunt, taking a fistful of the ever slipping silk stealing away the endless black filling his head and surrounding his eyesight. His smothered face protested a muffle whine that came out horribly unsightly in his state, mixed with a high note and finished with an inarticulate rumble of his vocal chords. The woman's word went unperceived except for a small, snore acknowledgment that brought his peaceful features to a lively twitch, smothering his head further away from the poking sensation transpiring as a dream terror in the depths of his floating mind. His wings had been shifting rhythmically in its odd stillness, reacting idly at being pulled mindlessly by the goddess who's plan was about to bear action. Trent hadn't been keeping in mind that the woman would actually get up from her glorious slumber to bother the drunken bird being a messy heap sprawled over her too big bed. The gentle stroke of his violet locks had a smiling outcome on his features, making small purring sounds accompanied by small, slurred chuckles giving out the impression that even in his seemingly sleeping state, the guardian angel wasn't still profound in the dream world as it was supposed to be now thanks to the effects of the alcohol. Why he had chosen tonight to get drunk or to even get drunk ever? The soothing affection of inebriation comforted the daily frustrations a man like him protecting a woman like Rio had to bare. The crawl barely had registered, the stroking touch still had his head floundering in the bliss recreated by a simple, caring tangent, successfully placating stupid state of mind of what was in store for him and for his immediate future. The sweeping plunge across the air from the pillow's swift grasp went barely heard but greatly acknowledged by his feathery wings that had conveniently separated accordingly to the hellish vixen's straddle on the back of birdman, which was a pleasant pressure to the alignment of his back. Bent over the counter most of the night goofing over several drinks in curiosity hadn't done much justice to the small suffering in relief against the cushiony comforts of the bed. Unbraced for impact, the laying frame reacting in short, seizure movements, springing his torso up from the pangs sharply thundering in his brain, reeling from the darkness and harshly back into the reality he'd fallen hands to. "AH AH AHH DEVIL WOMAN!" The glimpse of heavenly hell upon his back played odd parts of his emotional strings, smirking yet writhing in the pain of his already early caused hungover. "Stop stop STOP STOP PLEASE! IT HURTS!" His arms flew from a flail surfaced on the silks to shield his head in hopes of lessening the press thrashing over his eardrums, blinking his eyes shut in hopes of keeping the pain from increasing by each well-swung pillow fight. "What do you want?!" In hopes of trying to get her to bargain for a good night sleep, Trent resolved to favors for the sake of his ill-state.
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Post by Little Lion on Aug 1, 2010 17:31:45 GMT -7
The angel's sudden thrashings caught his assualter offguard. Instinctively, she squeezed her knees tighter around his wasit, clinging for her life. It would only infuriate her if she was tossed off her own bed by a man. It was on the list of unaccpetable actions that, once initiated, had unpredictable outcomes. She survived the first wave of convulsions without completely toppling off and only an occasional fall of her hand into the bed was necessary for her balance. His fit had ceased soon enough after her quick, heavy hitting assult. She was ready to relinqiush her weapon, her arm relaxed at her side when his shouting changed her mind. Her focused green eyes lost their mark and widdened, spiraling about his figure and her jaws slackened stupidly. "What did you call me?!" The usually alluring alto voice raced up the scales to the peak points of a shrieking soprano. Her right arm swung down with the pillow like a battle axe colliding with his head another few times. "Bird man!" She sneered the word through a pouting face. Finally, his cries reached a point of acceptable desperation and convinced her to halt her cruel assault. She rested the pillow on his head, one hand smothering it into him to make her point clear, whatever her point was. "What do you want?" Her eyes squinted, fixing on his head like a mark to a target. All she heard was a whining mumble dampened in her sheets. "Oh." She releaved some of the preassure to his head as the question registered in her mind. "Don't play me." She increased her preassure to emphasise the gravity of his situation and that she wasn't a woman to be triffled with, although he of all people knew that message inside and out. Slowly, she removed the down pillow from his head. "You're the one who crawled into my bed like a big huge whore, Trent." Her lithe frame was settling back into the small of his back as a sign of good faith that she might be, for the moment, done hitting him. "So, what do you want? Other then of course what you got." Her lips quickly formed a self satisfied grin as she leaned forward and placed her palm in the middle of his shoulder blades giving him two quick pats like a dog. "And that is, if you can remember my darling little drunk." She gave a little wiggle on his back, suddenly taking on a chipper, childlike attitude. She had him, or so she thought. Their games of cat and mouse always surprised her and tables were easilly turned. "Hey, do you loose brownie points for drinking on the job? Do they pluck your little wings?" She ran her fingers up the side of one. No matter what was happening between the two of them, the woman was overly mesmorized and attracted to her guardians wings. It was probably one of the few things that worked in his favor, a single hypnotic weapon against her unstoppable rampages. It had a similar effect of waving candy infront of a child.
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Post by Asphyxia on Aug 2, 2010 4:26:51 GMT -7
Trent's hand coverage had obviously not been sufficient enough shield to protect his poor, constantly pain-warped head from the abusive attacks his favorite little woman had inflicted on his already throbbing head. And as ineffective as his arms had been towards the causing of this pummeling, her sudden ear-splitting retort hadn't done further justice to his ill-prompted shut of the ear - another brownie point scored off from getting on her good side. Even though Trent had been the kind of guardian to always cause the trouble between the two and keep the game of love-hate relationship going on, he also never learned his lesson through his dismantled years of being Rio's protective wing. The man kept committing the same mistakes over and over again after recovering with no signs of ever stepping up his game to an actual man who could step up to her. But did he really wanted to? He was another man victim to the charm women could possess over men, falling endlessly into her well-woven whim web. [ew so many w's] Even in his drunken, groggy state Trent could say that he enjoyed too much the little time they had together, which always conveniently ended in things like these, or things in the past, like his personal favorite: Rio leaving Grave. How did ever accomplish that simple notion between the two who's war had continued thoroughly he could never fathom but it led easily to her happiness and that was his personal goal. "D-Devvvuh.." the words were pushed airless from his torso when smothered back into the cushions after deftly managing an upright position from his previous seizure attack product of instinct reaction by his sudden assailant. Keeping him pinned had been another clever restraint despite his manic jolting across the cushions that tumbled underneath their moving figures. In his mind, suffocated in a pillow sandwich, it had finally registered that the cause of the further attack had been his mindless comment towards the Rio straddling the small little dip his spine took from back to lower back, effectively ending the futile struggle that only creased the sheets, messing them across the back from their neat, smoothed out placement, relaxing the rest of his limbs to a still state atop the bed's comfort. "Bird man!" Despite the intensified press against his face and thus his ears, cutting half of his hearing, birdman could clearly hear her childish rebuttal to the first thing his mouth could spew in anger and clear pain. His arms stretched out at either side of him underneath his wings, his body shaking slightly in small, breaking waves that increased by the invisible close of his eyes. Trent found himself laughing at this newly found cute remark made by the woman nearly cutting his breathing supply and ducts at once. He'd heard her earlier in life's nicknames so fondly made out for him like "bird," but this ingenious invention of attaching man placed with the fact he had wings was a comic relief among the mental attacks reeled in the past from her profound hatred. In his laughter, he'd all but forgotten his promptly faked offense to the call of him being a 'whore.' Besides the signaling pangs of sharp burst of pain still jabbing in the depths of his mind by his laughter, it had successfully taken off all weight placed on him from her ardent attacks. When the sense of relief washed over him, noticing the down pillow had been placed in all places but his head, his hands attacked his hair immediately in a nervous check to see if down had slipped from the sheets covering the pillow and into his hair. Performing a double check, scanning extra carefully and reassuring himself with strenuous effort that his hair would, at the least, look presentable, his elbow poked back to his side, folding underneath him to twist his torso awkwardly, paining his side to look at her although his eyes had a hard time trying to fixate on just her. One thing he had learned, however from any woman, was that you always focused on the eyes and never strayed your attention anywhere else. Women often noticed the littlest of things from men and even if it were lame attempts at the small, right choices, he'd keep his sanity with this one. His twist had only been denied when the woman was caught ducking under her own alignment to cross his, the first registered signal was the heat patting his back attentively like if her were some pet of hers. The second was caught off guard, stiffening him in place, folding the other elbow underneath him to keep him sort of upright to her attention. The offerings into his ears were so simply struck in his mind but they had difficulty formulating on his tongue and knitting into his lips, keeping the inarticulate sounds forming instead of coherent, legible words. "Sleep." His eyelids had enclosed without effort to hide the stinging dryness in his violets, his fingers slipping from his forehead when his head dunked into a facepalm, letting the words be mumbled into his the skin of his hand, gliding until they warped his mind again into the slipping sensations of unconsciousness. "That's all I want." The pressure on his frothy, feathery wings twitched to bare life - a key point that his mind was careless of whatever else chit chat had been coming his way as much as he cherished it. His state couldn't simply let him live up more tender caring from the devil woman pinning the most essential part of his movements down. "Oh." His head lifted in a snap, his mind wakening him with the question about being stripped if the court of angels ever found out he'd been drunk on duty. The unnerving nervousness attacking him earlier from splay crept back into his features, tingling cold shivers up his spine, successfully reeling back into another momentary conscious state that seemed it was going to last a bit more than the others. "Course not. I think they've grown tired of my mishaps." The slip was another point for the woman to take against him without Trent noticing however a lie he seemed to try and pass.
[<3 I love them. I can't stop liking this xD]
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Post by Little Lion on Aug 2, 2010 14:31:30 GMT -7
Rio's eyes rolled at the sound of Trent's mumbled answer. His dreary state was boring her and even if he did manage to somehow sleep either by passing out or by his own will, under her pestering, she couldn't imagine herself ever being able to fall back into a relaxing sleep. Not while she was fully aware of his not entirely unattractive figure laying next to her. It would make sleeping nearly impossible and she was convinced it was because she couldn't trust him. He was drunk. If she were even half as buzzed as him, sleep might have been contemplatable, easy to come by and her mind wouldn't have been on the defense but rather all lights would have been green. She'd have given herself an excuse to go for anything because all regretable descisions were easilly shrugged off if alcohol was the excuse behind them. However, as reality had it, only one of them had the pleasure of being completely zoned out and at ease and he had just fallen like a giant log right ontop of her. How could he ever expect peace with such sloppy craftsmanship? By waking such a dangerous charge. "Seriously, Trent? You crawled into MY bed looking for sleep?" She huffed a sigh, "You big dumbass, that's like some kind of oxymoron." Her voice dropped off near the end, she realized the comment could work against her but she hoped he was to inhebriated to notice. The woman's usually clever insults were sloppy when she had no opposition, no fight to fuel her fire and talking to him in his current state was like trying to get an arguement out of a teddy bear. He had zero wit left in him to confuse and amuse her. Eitherway, she'd take what she was given and work it into a masterpiece, the perfect game. The pressure on his back lightened as she slowly slid off him, again taking liberties to move his wings out of her path while being strangely delicate in their rearrangement as if they were something incredibly fragile to her. It was perhaps the only part of Trent she treated with care. Every other limb, every inch of him she had probably hit, shoved or kicked at least once in their time together. Once they were safetly out of her way, she crawled to a spot next to his shoulder, crossed her legs under herself and leaned her elbows into the little crooks by her calves so that she was crouched down closer to his level. As his head snapped up, she was startled into following suit, unaware that he could still move with any kind of speed. "Oh, so they know that you suck too?" She grinned. "You do make it painfully obvious." Her right hand was slowly creeping across the sheets towards him again. Somehow they had switched places. Trent's hands were usually drawn to her, stealing touches all the time in return for a smack, punch or her favorite, a face shove. Tonight, his pathetic state was horribly addicting to her and begging for explotation, for torment. It made him attractive to her in the sense of a hundred and one ways of amusement. Rio's mind was going through cold, maticulous calculations. Her beautiful eyes were pinched in their rather daunting glare as though trying to picture something unfolding before her. Her fingers had finally reached the dangling, dishevealed tie that usually graced Trent's neck as part of his uniform. She slowly twirled it around her fingers, tangling it up between her pointer and index fingers. Slowly, her lips parted for a question. "How long can you last?" She let the sentence hang and her eyes popped up to his face wondering how confused she could get the poor darling with hanging sentences able to be interpreted in any sense, direction or form his mind wanted to take them. All she wanted to know was how long it took an angel to get this drunk. She was hoping they had zero tolerance for the sake of her own future tactics.
[something like that. xD i'm falling short. I just couldn't think of something else >___> ]
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Post by Asphyxia on Aug 3, 2010 1:55:15 GMT -7
The guardian's eyes had closed for some sort of impact feeling the lithe frame stir on his back, balancing and weighing off on him, playing in his mind as if she were gathering back the pillow to torture him further into the already painful spirals his head was constantly addressing to. To his surprise, however, the woman had actually slipped off of him to study whatever she was fond of in his horribly presenting features, marred by constantly darting eyes, disgruntled scowls reforming and smoothing in odd contrasting definitions across his features and then opening motion of his mouth trying to whine and complain like a child not getting what he wanted but finding nothing but silence from his stifled vocal chords. Moments ago he'd feel the pressure swelling over his head, the rush of cut air making his head heavy and locking every other movement from his neck up from terrible head pressure but now he'd been merely victim to another what he'd always wanted and somewhat hinted to in each of their encounters. How was it that she took all advantage of him in this state and he'd let it slip? His head wasn't that pressured from hearing, everything was an increasing annoyance; even the smallest of sounds caused him a rush of vertigo doubled on his head. But this, this precious moment wasn't a moment to ever forget. The reality of her words had hit some sense into him, ebbing away some of the drunken stupidity causing him to ignore mere details he usually wouldn't acknowledge. Trent knew that whatever caused him to get to this bed wasn't a blessing, but out of desperate need to rest and perhaps he'd chosen wrong for the first time in life. Stumbling directly into peril wasn't what he'd braced himself for like countless times when he'd seek it. This time his deceiving legs had carried him through whatever hopes of peace he had fantasized for to be in store for him when finding where to crash. The statement followed by the dawning dismay spiraled the guardian angel's head in different directions, directions he could actually think about without adding to the ever growing migraine and slowly slipping alcohol effects. Although his head was dragging out the ideas in slow, jagged motions, his ideas had come to him about the meaning underlying in her sentence and tone of voice, the weight shift beside him and the delicate touch to his wings stealing his mind away from whatever his head had traveled to in what seemed like forever, but they didn't go completely disregarded. About to mouth a yeah and continue into the sentence, the thought completely struck him like a forgotten word searched for and almost responsive, exploding immediately when the memory had been retrieved. "Wait," the word slipped low accentuated by his pointer pausing in the air between them as if stopping her in her actions. Had she meant whatever recognition Trent had given that sentence to? Rio had always been an endless play of confusing strings and the bird always enjoyed to tug along and be pulled like a dumb dog leashed to the restraining flawless presence of her goddess appeal and he'd discovered that it could go either way, but in his stupid mentality, something was off about it and the honesty was overthrowing. Perhaps his firm grip on what he thought was his soberness controlling over him wasn't yet in motion. His violets scattered across the sheets, his head turning in her direction, glancing in endless curiosity about this situation. Had he been led to think he'd come to this bed for something more other than just slumber? Her voice horribly interrupted his thorough speculation of the matter, a low grunt relaxing his shoulders and dipping his head into the sheets. His arms had hastily retracted one of the down pillows she'd left behind and pressed it behind his head until it comfortably covered his neck, easing the chills of her words on his skin. "Shut up." He muffled through the the thin, silky fabric that restrained his lips, making them an outcome of incoherent sounds, seeped through the thick filters of the threaded silks. Feeling that her touch had invaded a path that wasn't a leading course to his face, the pillow was shoved aside carelessly, revealing the array of violet hair messier than his neat fixation of framing spikes. It left the liberty to rouse around freely, again conditioned to stare back in her direction afraid that he'd forgotten any airy, stunning feature she'd been simply blessed with. Her flawless complexion always drew him in like a fly attracted to the shiny, bright light and always stung by the painful reminder of the light's power. His eyes strayed reluctantly afraid that he'd been gawking for too long like an idiot with his slackened mouth and tasted the dry confinements of his tongue, letting the glassy, violet orbs scan through what she'd been actually toying with all this time which was his loosened tie. It had no harm but the nervous edge of what she could turn the situation into stiffened his alignment once again. "How long can you last?" "Say what?" His mouth turned into a gaping entrance as his mind transfixed the words into something of great importance or lacking the immediate innuendo screaming in the orderly words. How long can I last in what? The thought brought his mouth into a closing impact, his fingers trying to tighten up the loosened grip of his tie that only slid down from his groggy state in a meet with her fingers at the end of his colored uniform garment. His frame had subconsciously leaned in, his feathery wings twitching to life, pushing small gusts of wind in their direction from his accelerated heart pulse. "I... I... how long? Well..." Trent hadn't find the correct words and realized he was to end in idiot in this, but long lost wits that never came to him gratified the next ideal sentence about to be spoken from his lips that were a shade lighter than his tanned skin. "That depends on what." A smile finally pulled across the pressure of his lips withholding a closeness all this time, a silver lining had seeped through his cloudy future.
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Post by Little Lion on Aug 3, 2010 12:05:18 GMT -7
Trent's immediate confusion and apparent fluster brought instant amusement to the woman. Her lips twitched begging to break into a grin reflective of her bottled delight but, for the sake of her cruel mind games, she slipped her bottom lip between her teeth and bit back the pressing twitches of a grin. Her eyes shone like sun kissed jade, sparkling and bright in the promising excitement and fixed on him with the same intensity his eyes kept gracing her figure with. They danced around his stupid facial expressions and, despite how ugly and unattractive they should have been, she was satisfied. He was caught on her line like a fish and she'd tossed him to the floor gaping at the strangeness of her world. She couldn't help but revel in it. Her nature had blossomed from a destructive race blessed with irresistible magics and charms but in an effort to behave she'd limited herself to the simplest traits of her race, simple parlor tricks and emotional games. Her tricks and charms were meant to be short lived, a simple ploy by the blood elf for quick gains but she always played too long, especially with her favored players such as Trent. The longer she played, the more she invested herself and the more difficult it was to sift through her own lies to find the real and fake of her emotions. It was a terrible flaw in her perfection that she tried to hide by believing her heart was never broken in these moments. In a simple sense, the longer she led him on, the more of herself she let become attached, the harder she fell and the easier it was to deny it all later and pretend she moved on with clean cuts. He was her guardian, but she was his most dangerous problem both to him and herself. And, she might have been love's hardened warrior, an able defender of her own heart and life. Or she was it's weakest link, the prime example of love at second sight. The lines were always blurred for her. A warm bump met the top of her hand, a large bumbling trap disrupting her rhythmic twists of the angle's tie and holding her slender hand captive. Her eyes slid down to assess the problem discovering his hand collapsed over hers. The picture perfect touch had silenced a beat of her heart making her fingers felt too cold, her arm too impossibly stiff to escape even the limp clasp and her pupil's spread into dark black pits fixated stupidly on their hands. Rio's eyes snapped back up to his face, the cool pulsing air raising goosebumps on her shoulders and alerting her senses. Her move, she needed control but it was to late. The burning sting of attachment ached from the depths of her stomach up to the bottom of her heart. Her fingers unwound from his tie and instantly slipped through his with a twist and a tight knuckled squeeze. If she couldn't break the feeling and get control, then at least she could beat on him. "Yeah?" A facade grin wound up her lips as her angel stuttered through some kind of flustered reply. As intended, his mind had gone to the darkest meanings those words could lead to and at least whlie he wrestled with them she was gaining time. "That depends on what." Her eyebrows rose into a curious arch followed by the sour purse of her lips. There was cleverness left in him after all. Cleverness he'd deftly used in a quick, effective counter attack to shut her down. Inwardly she could only groan and hope that it was his last streak of wit for the hour. She had enjoyed her short lived streak of domination far to much for his silly comments to get in her way, everything was better when he just floundered under her supremecy. Her eyes rolled to the left, searching for a sky borne answer and to buy a moment to think. "Pfft, well..." Her fingers, still laced through his, tapped across the back of his hand in a calculating rhythm and she looked back at his face for some kind of inspiration. Instead, she found his steady purple eyes gazing right back at her while she had her walls down. Startled, she sat up right, the moment of locked eyes had been enough of a kick start for her. "At, well at everything." Her voice jumped the scale. "I don't know, stop smiling!" Her left hand burst out of nowhere, catching him in the side of the face, palm to cheek bone turning him away from her. "You don't even know what I'm asking you. You're drunk. Shut up. You make no sense, ever. You're just... you are impossible." A streak of rose red trickled down under her cheekbones pooling in the crook between her jaws. She kept her hand on his face to keep him from seeing the sudden flush over her checks however, the stiffness of her fingers were relaxing. "How many have you had?" Her voice had come back down to an even, quieter tone. The plan was to get conversation back fast enough that he would let her outburst be forgotten. Her hand was still over his face but now her pointer finger was tracing small circles over his temple. The coolness of her fingertips was the only relevant sign that he had now flustered her thus scrambling her precious nerves in a thousand dizzying directions. She was only slightly trying to recover her own game but he seemed to be catching onto her word games, or at least avoiding them for his own good "I mean, I just want to know what an angel's like. The ins and outs, ups and downs." Her slender shoulders shrugged up by her neck and slumped down. "Simple curiosity." The gentle circles on his temple ceased and the sensation of her fingers slipped down over his cheekbone to his jaw bone where she traced the skin back to his hairline. She hesitated just before the vast purple mess and deciding to leave it be, tucked her hand back in the safety of her lap. The queen of mean was unaware of one simple unplanned action in the meticulous movings of her body. It was just too comfortable, the sensation too pleasant yet so rare that it almost didn't register in her mind that this limb was still attached to her, that this touch was still in play. The fingers of her right hand still remained threaded through those of her guardians and she was blissfully unaware.
[?? >_> i feel like i just gave her a heart xD it kind of tingles. i might have to stop haha.]
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Post by Asphyxia on Aug 4, 2010 3:03:42 GMT -7
Rio's little quick register of a smile threatening at its peak meant a horrible sign for the angel who had been continuously on the path to immediate sober. For her, that usually meant his scrutinize would be at its fullest soon and details he'd disregard in his past, dumb state he'd crack into an ungracious obvious remarks. The smile could mean many things but they usually branched into the same ordeal - some cruel, saucy, clever rebuttal or a quick, painful action. Either one was to Trent's dislike however the situation turned into something arguably to his advantage. Their lives were chips settled in a bet at a table, both at stake of loosing and getting hurt but regaining the game at any given time with these little moments that saved their grieving hearts from more cracks in the eloquent glass walls. That's how both survived and latched to each other constantly without exhaust of whatever closeness they often encountered on whatever basis they'd notice to count. Her transfixed stare only brought him further from his high, searing the line between the streak of a tarnished imagery and conspicuous, unusual behavior blurred by the warming effects of alcohol, twisting images into what he wanted or the horribly painted reality and completely in control work of his brain. The guardian angel had found himself finally in between the thread of both, one step into either division; whether he wanted to keep succumbing to his drained braincells or walk down the path where he'd witness with 100% consent through whatever the exchange between them could happen was for him to decide in where to be classified at the moment. His mind was still spiraling from earlier events and an early, induced hangover had further scattered his thoughts and slightly perfected vision into dizzying, problematic eye-focusing quarrel and yet it'd been reeling through all the stillness on comforts from her idle position on the bed with only a few verbal and one tangent exchange.
His hands twitched to a lively contact between the warmth and the electrifying numbness from first in-consent contact between human being and guardian. Trent had all but expected that the warmth accompanied by the stinging electricity coursing in unison would intensify through the first impacting collide of his fingers too conveniently sliding towards her mindless play of his fabric. The usual expectation had been an immediate rejection, a shove of his hand away from her all-too-perfect slender hands, guarding them back in the safety of her own skin, but the surprised case painted his expressions into something between surprise and shock, blending into one still emotion, his eyes widening from their squinting stupidity thanks to the dizzying spells of his inebriated state, his mouth closed for once from all the gaping it had gone through under the influence. Securely, his inhibitions hadn't gone all out of place when realizing the above events of what transpired through his mind from her prompted mind play however mutual it might have turned out later on. He could feel her exquisite grin loosing its own grip, slipping through the facade she'd put up, lowering with her wit count against his who was in a spirited roller coaster of coming and fading way too easily in his running mind. "Pfft, well..." his eyes slid from their momentary glance, afraid he'd gain too much coloring across his cheek to assimilate a blushing woman, back to Rio, her falter clear now on the notions of her tone. Trent had let the threading of their fingers pass willingly, squeezing the skin between each shapely gap to ensure they'd keep it together like that, in check that this was really happening and this was really Rio, that he wasn't just having a dream lulled already by the alcohol's trap. The steady tapping across the back of his palm kept him at bay about his constant reality check about their position and how they'd come to be about this, twisting his body again to a perch on the side, tucking his elbow underneath himself and letting it keep in the stretch of what had kept them connected through this time being. His eyebrows had left their comfortable place to lift above, smoothing out around his eyes but slightly creasing around his forehead, unable to fathom Rio's direction with this thought, a smile easing the lifted brows from place and settling smugly. It'd all come crashing with unmarred clarity and no doubt, it was hard to keep a false pretense into what she'd literally start and what he kept in play for both, finding impractical the idea that neither could find a way to confess but just let it happen. Everything fell into their favor and yet kept slipping away from the mask they wanted to defend themselves behind. Her rising tone of voice made him jump slightly, bracing for the impact about to be taken from her available hand. Trent had been slap one too many times before, it was only odd if the contact to his face never happened, but he'd been wrong again. The angel expected the worst from everything when it came to the person he guarded yet he was slowly being guided through every pit fall and crack that happened to appear on his way. The pressure inflicted in means to keep him away from a real woman's reaction--a reaction he'd been waiting to see most of his life and he was effectively missing it--only made him wary, the warmth and smooth touch of her fingers further relaxing him into something loose and of easy charm, charismatic and ongoing with their playful banter. Perhaps she had been right; Trent hadn't figured out if he was still standing between that line or if he was rocking back and fourth through both options, indecisive of which one to stand on and keep glued to. Her next question had regained the lost of his watch back into her eyes, the wide gaze marveling her with incredulous disbelief. Had she just asked how many women had he made his in the past or how many drinks had he consumed this night? Afraid of his answer, he sneaked to play it safe just in case, retracting the eyes that were focused on her stunning complex and busied themselves with observing the puckers created over the sheets and the mess the covers had been reduced to along with the strewn across pillows, trying to find out how to pluck an answer or a retaliating question to better answer what she wanted to curiously know. His brows had encountered in a questioning, frustrated furrow, glaring at the cushions underneath him to make out what information she wanted to steal from her guardian. The situation had been turning into some intimate moment of privacy, an embarrassing thing that would taint in adolescence but they were adults and adults had more sense of peace about it... but not Trent and not ever. His mentality usually spanned and resolved to teenage complains and points of view but it only ever increased the understanding bond between them, however confusing and shortcut it came to be at the end. "How many... women?" Trent had picked his head from the low crane given to hide away whatever fluster had pooled back underneath the contours of his cheeks and the heat rush settling again over his body, careful in what he could say and what he wanted to say. Her curiosity had only brought him to her level of need and had subconsciously inched him closer in her direction, his tall frame being able to be slightly above hers even if propped by his shoulder unto his side. The impact of her words of wanting to know about angels and what it was like brought a whole new meaning to the significance he'd given to them by his own dirty minded head and her previous mind fucking innuendo. "You want to know what an angel's like? Tasting only on the lips isn't enough?" A considerable distance had grown to barely inches apart from each their faces, level of lip to lip almost but still visible in their speculation. The grin was wide-set and almost a jester smirk - stupid bird had probably successfully ruined whatever moment they were having or she was having with herself understanding feelings for him. Things like these could never last too long with the course of action, borderline drunk for whenever it had turned to his convenience and sober whenever things played his way. His hand had pulled hers closer, his frame was up and still enough to not tumble to his side from lack of balance, catching it in his flaming, burning skin from previous blushing effects, further caressing into the contours of his jawline and sliding to his neck.
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Post by Little Lion on Aug 4, 2010 18:18:27 GMT -7
Rio's face flickered through emotions upon hearing Trent's bashful, confused response. She couldn't have planted the idea in his mind any better then if she had waltzed right in and scribbled it across the gray cells herself. He trailed her innuendos much too perfectly and ended up in a place apart from where her own mind was skirting, a place where he could play the hound and she could play Ms. Wholesome Perfect. With his blunder, her lips twitched to life breaking first under the beaming pretenses of a laugh which quickly vanished when her lips pursed together and thinned into her mouth. The scowling incline of her eyebrows took care of any other beaming remnants left around her eyes lending her a timely look of disgust. "What? No, why? Ugh." She rocked back on her legs and tossed her head as if shaking off the horrid thoughts and sending the sleepy tendrils around her shoulders. "Trennt!" She had rocked back on her legs and over shot her ending point winding up leaning over her own lap in a lower, closer position to his towering frame. "Why would I want to know that? You're in my bed! That's not conversation to get you anywhere, dingy. Really? For heaven's sake..." Her free hand came back to life and sailed over his shoulders to slam into the back of his head and skim off the top. "Use your big fat head." She grumbled the last part, already settling down just Tonight her notorious and boisterous temper was a well keyed facade turned off and on at will. It had been her fall back act from the start, the start being after he'd woken up from savage pillow attack. She'd actually meant to beat him to death with a pillow via an irritated instinctive reaction. However, her annoyance now was just a key strategy to a horrible plan that she hadn't actually finished planning at all. She had shaped the beginning with the impulsive though to beat him with a pillow - she tagged that as the beginning later - and moved onto the middle part entitled, "Part 2, Confuse the Drunk". This strategem was a particular favorite of hers since it was easy enough, the players always played along accordingly and of course, she had years of experiance in it thanks to her rough background with her drunkard ex-husband. However, the part that followed Confuse the Drunk she was never entirely sure of. She didn't like to think past it or for most parts even think of it. The woman was easilly spooked when it looked like Part 3 was coming and instantly kicked her defensive anger into high gear with cruel outbursts and injury. These irritating female traits were her only options in the line of self defense and were intended to send the offender back to square one, that is, Confuse the Drunk. Her acted anger also enabled her to escape playing out any real emotion that she might have felt whenever Trent got a breath to close, something he was horribly good at. She was her own saftey net, her own protection and on occasion, her own regret. However, it looked like she was in the saftey and all lights were green for Confuse the Drunk. You want to know what an angel's like? His voice swept through her head causing her to focus on his eyes again and come out of her self reveling victory. She remained in contact with the purple iris but her head was tilting down letting her eyes drift upwards and widen as her bottom lip slid out with one corner caught between her teeth. The lowest note in her symphony of deconstructing heartstrings. A chord of angelic innosence wrapped in puppy dog eyes pleading and hoping for an answer but acting in fear as if it were asking too much of him. Tasting only the lips isn't enough? Her head was slowly moving to shake a no but the rhetorical question was starting to register. With each second the words seeped into a deeper level of her mind while their impact dissolved the sappy look to a slack jawed, nervousness. There was something whimsical and exhilirating hidden in his beautiful voice that she hadn't braced for. "Iyuh.." A shallow exhale escaped her lips. When did his face get so close? Too close. Her next breath came short and clipped and she held it in her lungs to surpress the acceleration of her breath, the shallow tightness she felt crawling up her stomach but she still held it so he wouldn't notice. Her eyes followed the contours of his face to his grinning lips searching for a glimpse of the means to the memory of what he was referring to. It was too much and her eyes fled to a vacant point beyond his shoulder. "Well..." Her voice collapsed in her throat, stuck in the dry places of her mouth. He was completely and unacceptably distracting her. He had her hand clasped tightly under his and exploring the warmth of his delicate skin, the strength hiding under it. Oh god, oh god. Rio's arm twitched, she wanted her hand back from the hell born angel. It was too much, he was too much. She had lost her control to him and in turn, panicked like a animal in a cage. Her eyes were spiraling about the room and him, unsure of which was better to stare at, she wanted desperately to be able to stare at both the flesh more then the dim walls. Recover, woman! God damn it. Her eyes blinked shut to search the darkest parts of her mind for means of escape. There was something left, there had to be a tactic. She could always resort to violence but her right hand was still captive under his and that was the hand that would have produced the most forceful impact. Were they talking about something? What had they been saying? There was a conversation, wasn't there? "It was!" The words burst out of her lips faster and louder then she had intended. Embarrassed, she gave her hand a tug hoping the stubborn drunk would let her go. "I mean, it was enough to end my marriage, at least." She sat a little straighter and shifted her shoulders for the apperance of composure but her stomach was doing backflips she thought might have been visible through the thin grey v-neck. In indle distraction she wound her left hand up in the sheets. "Yup. Mhmm." He had one on the scoreboard tonight.
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Post by Asphyxia on Aug 4, 2010 22:43:44 GMT -7
Trent's pulse had accelerated, drumming pounds into his chest, pummeling through his skin as sweat seemed to dew across his forehead but very little to be insignificant and easily disregarded. Color was being brought against his skin in intensifying darkness, the heat pooling heavily through his veins rising his body temperature into a burning heat, breaking in quakes and small shakes his fingers, cutting his breathing supply into short, quick gusts that shrunk and expanded his frame visibly. The suspense prolonging in the analysis of his words was nerving to the angel and each with each doubling thought, his legs wanted to give out, slide underneath him and carry him from the room a considerable distance away, afraid that this might have been the final straw and the crossed line drawn through whatever morals she'd set for herself behind her masking defense. His mind was time traveling through an array of endless pain and suffering, foreshadowing the awkwardness and fret he'd get when it was time to meet up with Rio. In her response, Trent had sagged back a little, his frame coming up slightly higher and to his fullest, finally settling to a comforting sit where she was clearly more visible and not blurred from the constant jet lag his mind resorted to in the effects of his attacked posture. The relief washing through his body, stinging away the burning warmth and replacing it with a more neutral temperature that his body accepted, not too cold and not too hot either. His unnerving mind had all but concealed back in the depths of a hidden drawer and buried back into the emotions he'd never let paint across his expressions. The tightness restraining back washing knots in his stomach had eased around; Rio didn't want to know about the women after all. That conversation would be way too awkward--angels couldn't talk about whatever past they were allowed to have. Their sole purpose was with the person they guarded and this new history they'd make with them until they were willed away or the person died of any cause. With a casual chuckle, he regained his posture upward from the slight slump he'd gotten to from previous closeness. "Sorry. You weren't being very clear." His eyes closed and arched in slight content, letting the smile inch to draw shadows into their peaks and retract easily. Part of him wanted to add another remark, a remark that would scold her off but he couldn't bring to himself in this situation. The woman, for the first time, looked like she had some sort of trouble finding her inner self and how could Trent ever take advantage of that? Regardless of whatever Rio did to him and caused him throughout the years of their togetherness, he didn't pay an eye for an eye and it wasn't his style. His idiotic nature and imbecile personality was enough payback to find calming irritation in her, a familiar trait he'd never seen leave besides certain clips in the past that led them to where they were now and shaped her to what she was feeling for the night. The angel knew this was too good to be true and that it wouldn't follow a trend of recreating whenever he wanted it to happen, like a casual daily lifestyle. It'd be too weird for their natural instincts. It was a necessity in their life, like if the insulting words were some sort of complement, hidden love communication between the two and neither could fathom how this had come to be but it was and they'd shield themselves in what they thought could protect them from never committing regrettable mistakes. His momentary, distracted marvels were horribly interrupted by a well placed shove in the back of his head that, even though he'd deftly prompted an arm to avoid the inevitable, had happened, successfully dipping his head in alignment with his torso and swung back up, letting the wild locks of his purple hair framing across his face to sway with natural flow and spike back into poking place. Their air of going on about was gracefully fluid in how the events took their course and it seemed to slow down in his eyes for a moment, the shove bringing down again the spirals he'd been sent to earlier and the sharp stab making his head heavy with welling pain. His available hand immediately shot up, his index and middle finger applying pressure into his temple, hoping he would find some temporary ease in the fact that he'd been stopping a muscle from tangling further into this bothersome pang. His neck slid up, stealing air back from his quick slip in further hopes of settling the raucous revolving in his head causing him to press his eyelids together tightly while the pain transpired by. Her voice breaking into another answer opened his eyes in a quick, sharp snap that focused immediately on her as if through the slight film of his skin he'd been watching her all this time. His violet orbs wheeled around, searching for an immediate answer in her body language, something that gave her away in the way she'd been shifting or the slight hesitation in her first sentence, but he'd only found himself covering distance from the expanse of their too many inches apart. The tight skin recovering his eyes had registered another one of her lacks and flaws that she couldn't simply remark with ease of wit in his direction and neither was he feeling a retort about to crumble down the smug sense of self satisfaction overwhelming his body. The small pull with intentions of slipping away only caused his digits to embrace further into the slender, warm, creamy wonders of her smooth hands, finding more comfort in her human contact than the one he had been seeking minutes ago on her bed from disastrous events. There was a clear dismay shadowing her features and the beaming expectancy or revolting scowls that beautified her features that were missing had been telling him something all this time and it came through almost shrieked tunes that stifled him in the inches of enclosing space he'd been gaining through slow, sneaky movements. Her confession had some sort of suspense, like it hadn't been finished or that it was too easy to detect that there was more meaning to that than what she had employed in means to reject his playful win. It was enough to lift Trent from the bed, his hand pressing to her shoulder slightly, inching his frame in order to lower her back to lay down on the bed but since it wasn't time to play unsafe, he'd gone for safe and was gently guiding her through what he clearly wanted to happen, unfurling his legs from underneath his weight and shifting them near her waist and further down to her thighs, not pulling off the mount she'd done earlier to lunge at him with a pillow to his head. He'd slid his torso and flattened his back in order to close more space between them, leaving bare inches apart like he'd so subconsciously done before. "Come on..." his eyes had strayed from hers in order to show some meaning and compliment the point he wanted to cross, his voice lowering to little whispers she could only hear as if the moment had been more private and they were surrounded by people secretly listening. "We both know it caused more than that... we both know it's never enough."
[ta da. he sat on her xD]
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Post by Little Lion on Aug 10, 2010 20:51:39 GMT -7
[my obsessive fascination is in your imagination. i don't want your love. youuuuuuuu have stooooolen my heaaaart]
Every sense organ in her tender frame came to life in a chemical rush of an instant. Each stifled talen was woken from a long slumber to a sudden, unusual tailored use of fixating on the closest living thing in her proximity. Her eyes had become wider and more alert towards him rather then squinted in a calculating gaze and barely aware of his existence, the look of his figure or the rise and fall of his chest. Now she was awakened to him and her eyes strayed in rapid shifts, groping down his frame and skimming back up to take in every little twitch and every inkling of movement that caught the jade gaze as though memorizing the exact build of each limb would help him to exist. Perhaps one moment unnoticed and he would disappear from that spot into a wafting smoke of dreamed up wishes. With each careful lean disspiating the space between them, his scent had become nearly tangiable to her. It was like a clouded smoke filling her airways with a tingling weight and a taste to catch somewhere between tounge and mouth. He had only ever smelled good in passing, the fleeting moments where one or the other of them was moving away from a spot or towards another but now in their stillness, hearts racing, it surrounded her. A refined scent, savory and warm creating a simultaneous enticing and soothing appeal, teased her heightened senses enough to tilt her head in his direction. The last part of her to become enthralled by the natural spell was her skin, the sense of touch. The spaces between them closed with explosive tension but in the slender inches of distance remaining, she could feel the heat of his body, hotter and closer, trapping her own so that it cycled back and warmed her blood into flushing her tanned skin. Their captive heat mingled like two weather fronts in the sky, massive, driven, brilliant and unstoppable forces brewing and crackling in the crowded space for dominance that neither would relinquish until the air was just shy of igniting into brilliant sparks. She could feel the tension coiling, the closeness of his body while his hand slid over her shoulder pressing down. She resisted the intial push and shot an unheeded warning through the corners of her eyes. As the pressure increased with the closer shift of his body, she submitted to the gentle strength and let herself be collapsed onto her back into the mess of her sheets and pillows. She was only just replacing the breath lost to her lungs when she felt his figure glide over her reigniting all her senses on a new level. The sensation of his legs gliding down her bare skin made her stomach weave into nervous knots and her right leg recoil, bending the slightest at the knee. Neither of them were naive adults, they were both fully aware of the direction the others thoughts would be taking but she had inflicted enough emotional self damage to shy away from the obvious. Her numbers were high enough that it should have been easy but he was perfectly impossible. "Come on...", her heart glided into a dark oblivion she didn't know existed in the chasm of her chest. The simple words spoken in their decending, husky tone had such an effect to spell bind her like a glossy eyed doll. She was simple stunning perfection hanging onto his words as though he were speaking the keys to heaven, dangling food infront of the starved. We both know it caused more then that. Her eyes strayed from his face down to his collar bones gliding along their dips and angles to preoccupy herself from his undeniable reason. He had her under his thumb, literally and metiphorically, and unlike herself, she couldn't find her wiggle room. If denial had an origin, he was hovering over it, coaxing, teasing, slowly persuading it to change it's story with sweet whispered nothings dropped like slow motion bombs on the desolate heart causing her warm skin to contract in shivers here and there down her neck then her spine and wrapping around over her ribs in quick rising bumps. She slipped her right hand in the small area remaning between them, gliding it up his chest right over top of his pounding heart. With a gentle pressure she expanded her fingers over the spot until her palm pressed against his shirt with a gentle pressure as though holding him up, or more likely, back. "If it wasn't enough, isn't enough,..." Her fingers rolled over his chest in a counter pounding rythm to his heart, she was slowly gathering her nerve back. "then where were you?" Her eyes moved up to meet his with eyebrows arched. Slowly, her jades angled into the sultry curve under her eyes finding the corners of her thick lashes tangling up in her vision from the upward push of her muscles led by a slow, imp's smirk. Her neck craned forward to turn a couple inches of space into slivers of an inch until her lips were invading that cruel proximity that was still untouchable due to their incessant chatter. "It's almost like you were scared of enough. Of more." Her fingers were finding their way from his pounding heart, up his neck to his face along the jaw hesitating for an instant there. Her eyes traveled back to his eyes, hopping form one to the other. "Am I that impossibly difficult for you?"
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Post by Asphyxia on Aug 14, 2010 3:33:52 GMT -7
The angel's breathing had ceased momentarily, the grip of her reality caressing upward on his chest kept him a slightly sane place and denoted that this was still all real and not a horrible fantasy product of his over-explicit imagination--or result of his previous drunken state he'd stumble through when he got to this place. However, her words stifled his sagging composure into the awkward inertness he had prior to the transient reality of their place and their state. Trent had finally been owned in his own play of stealing the game's nature and commanding for once--he'd been horribly stripped from the glorious moments of correct rounds he won in their discussing uproar of their hidden feelings. By the time the woman underneath him got to the question, scanning her smug sense of self satisfaction on how she thought she'd won, his still poise had once again dropped from place, carelessly sagged in their nature. The angel yet wouldn't be defeated when he was so close in stealing the game for one night, just one night. A huff denoted the accompanied smile that entailed behind; Rio wasn't difficult--that wasn't the right word. By all means, if there were a word that fit her best, it wasn't difficult or hard to get, but intimidating in all the sense of her portraying demeanor. The angel wasn't thrown back by her difficulty--he'd catch on enough on little things to make mental notes for further future problems--but by how much she could scare some sense into him. One annotation had she gotten right in the sentence: she was difficult but bird was stubborn and obnoxious, which had proven to get him far in something. "No," prompted the angel in a more serious tone although his features had still been coaxed by the same overlapping smile of before after his small huff of air. His legs slid farther down the bed, his frame beginning to come into a dangerously close contact with her body, yearning for some warming friction that desire had only knew how to pull from their current positions, but his legs had given signals of discomfort from their unusual, elongated length and his tall frame had been too huddled up near her own torso. Something that looked safe and unplanned had meshed into slightly dangerous and spontaneous in the moment. This was Trent's own way of thwarting her won over accusations. "Because..." his eyes skipped in hesitation, his purple tresses falling despairingly at either side of his face, "You never let me in." Violet, gleaming eyes crossed paths back into her gaze, glassy and fixated, gloating in the attention they had him locked in still. The man had all but forgotten the distance that was put between them by her hand trying to keep them far apart but that unacceptable in the guardian's terms--his body had other ideas for her reluctance. The awkwardness of his height that gotten him temptingly close to the heat radiating from her body but this time his features were the ones that led on towards the distance, now barely breathing inches apart from equality. "Will you let me in?"
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Post by Little Lion on Oct 16, 2010 21:31:27 GMT -7
[so, short... lame... not fully rio and I sort of just pounded it out to get something done tonight but considering it's been like 2 months, I'd say it's good enough for a restart!! >( but not really.]
"No." Her meager smile wavered and then relinquished its snark emotion into her squinting eyes. Naturally, the man would disagree with her. He had to have the final say and control his lead of dominance, it was their masking game of tug-o-war. With out their vocal friction, their emotions would have no front, no power and no hold. His voice, a whispering, low string orchestra played to every silent part of her mind coaxing it to find the safety in every warm note surrounding her ears. With each slipping position of his body she felt her conscious propel from him, one step forward, but the attraction of their bodies was overpowering, two steps back. The proximity made her will stutter. She flexed her fingers dumbly against his chest, caught helplessly between the desire to push him away in stunted, emotional fear or tug him closer in the heat of romantic friction devouring her restraint. He was broadcasting an irresistible signal to her, loud and clear. She tried to ignore it, tune it out and over ride it even change the stations but the picture was strong and over powering. She was afraid that in the instant she closed her eyes or looked away, what she knew could be imminent would be a reality out of her control. "Because... you never let me in" She suddenly felt small under his dreamy gaze. Having him lay out her intentions plainer then any map was a brutal stroke of reality she hadn't ever meant to face. She had been delivering endless, vicious tirades to distance herself from him because it had seemed like an easier choice. She had experienced emotional attachments and they were a messy confusion. Keeping him out had always seemed so easy. A tiny scowl started to form between her brows and her lips parted for the first breath of her argument but... those eyes. How had they gotten so close? How did you argue a truth that was wrapped up in unadulterated, honest, pure pleading? When had keeping him out become so difficult? Will you let me in? Her breath escaped her. This close, he was impossible. Impossible to refuse, impossible to remove, impossible to restrain. But she was an impossible woman and despite the warm ache in her stomach signaling her mind to find any route for an action to release the tension built between them, her beautiful, bitter pride could not allow a straight agreement to slip between her lips. Her eyes swept the contours of his face, searching for signs of insincerity but the expression, barely centimeters from cheek to cheek, was to impassioned for passing quips. Her fingers slowly closed around the fabric over his chest bringing herself up to the last inches distance. With difficult restraint, her lips met his in a full but fleeting kiss breaking away bare centimeters. "Ask me later."
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