Post by Slansky Kirov on Jun 24, 2013 1:28:01 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 478px; height:567px; background-image:url(http://i46.tinypic.com/29vxk7t.png)] After the question, he realized the err. His cheeks flushed. What makes you even think that this is where this could be going? Slansky wondered, and then answered his own question. There was abandon in her body. His eyes flicked at her when she touched his face. He had been apprehensive of her retaliation. Instead, she treated him with surprising patience. It was not the spitfire response he had expected, to say the least. He listened quietly, his breath still quick in his chest, despite the fact he was in the process of calming himself. Her touch did nothing to manage that, until her palm settled over his beating heart, and Slan felt... strangely calm. She wasn't an idiot. He knew that--and so, why was he fighting... this? Slansky did not say anything immediately. He merely looked at her, a steady gaze, gauging her response and her expression. Words were easy to lie with, he knew. But expressions? Less so. He saw no hint of a lie on her face, nor uncertainty--in fact, she looked at him with such resolve that it was almost rebellious. It was in that moment--the same instant when she uttered something in quick Japanese--that Slansky realized that he would never be able to make her do something she didn't want to. There were still doubts, lurking the forefront of his mind, and the ornery part of him wanted to say something back to her, in either Russian or Czech--something significant, as her words had seemed to be. But he didn't. He had never been eloquent with words. "Okay." He put more emotion into it than should have been possible, a simple resolution. Okay. But his eyes were strangely expressive, for once, bright and attentive. Slan suddenly didn't care about the outside world--about his questions, or his doubts. Happiness was few and far in the Menagerie, and he felt like for just a second he had found something tangible. There was no hesitation when he kissed her this time, nor anything particularly teasing--it was just a roll to his body, from hips to shoulders, passion unhindered in it, as his mouth found hers again, more expressive than his words could have been. And it didn't matter, he decided. It didn't matter how far she had gone in the past. He should have been focusing on the now, considering it had such a penchant for slipping away. |
