synflux | [closed] we shape our buildings; thereafter, they shape us

[This feels like a completely foreign world to him. The closest he can think of is from the talks of the children, who managed to find some innocence in the darkness of the City]

[His hand unconsciously trails up a little over her lower leg, grasping it with the bare touch of firmness, the other one remaining over her ankle to hold it steady. He's looking back at her now.]

Physically? [...] What do you like, then?

[ his hand trails a little further and her eyes slide open to look at it, cheeks warming and heart fumbling. being aware of his movements is something that's been a trend today and this is no different; he may not realize it himself, but it doesn't matter. she does. it feels a little dangerous. ]

Striking eyes, [ after a moment seemingly for thought, lifting hers to his, ] and tall. A charming smile and pleasant voice. I have to like the way they say my name.

[ since she'd like them to call out to her, but that's rather sad to say. trying not to think of ways to get his hand to move more right now but it's kind of. it's sorta. he better not do it again, is the feeling, and also the opposite is true. ]

Rougher hands are nice too. But I think I've made that pretty obvious.

[Striking eyes, she says. And tall. But really, the last few...he couldn't say he fits the mark.]

[Would he want to?]

[Fumbling, fumbling. Even so, his gaze stays steady. His hands stay where they are, for now. Polite. Is he too polite?]

...Mm. [And then a light smirk, making his lower eyelids crease up a little over the red shine.] Guess I'm out for the count, then, for making a full checklist.

Oh, I don't think so at all.

[ she taps the corner of her mouth, a little smile herself. ]

I like this. And I like the way you say my name a lot, too. [ ... ] Both of them.

[ malkuth, miss weiss. it's subjective, but sincere. sorry to the girlies in the hot springs who don't see it. like literally don't. ]

[...Well.]

[(also you go malkuth you sing the praises of this old man)]

...

[He squeezes her calf, briefly, his gaze no breaking.]

Miss Weiss.

[ so rare is it that malkuth turns her gaze from him, but she is now. slowly, her whole face to the side, pink smattering her neck and cheeks, head light with the rush of blood. ]

... My ankle feels fine now.

[ why does her voice come out so. weak. she needs a drink or three. that'll cure her. ]

.....

[He almost seems to realize himself, his hands retracting, because....]

[He doesn't know why.]

[Maybe he toed a line? Ugh. What is he? Some schoolboy? He's raising his hand to comb back through his hair, feeling agitated, restless, and....flummoxed, maybe that's the word. Ughhh.]

Alright.

[ she immediately regrets it.

the spots his hands were in are colder now, and even tucking one leg under the other doesn't cure it. her ankle can live with the pain still lingering; it'll be fine before tonight, it always was going to be fine, she just...

... wanted to keep his hands on her, somehow, and the realization causes her to worry the blanket again. twist, twist, twist. she clears her throat. ]

Thanks. You should change your job to masseur. I bet you'd have a line out the door... Mr. Gaze.

[ does he like her voice, she wonders. when she says his name, either of them. it should be easy to ask, to tease. but it isn't. ]

[He immediately regrets it.]

[That's the trouble with everything. Once you get a taste for something, you start to crave. It eats you from the inside, that friendly worm.]

[There's something...there's something....something hot and burning and needy and lonely and he wants to squash it he wants to destroy it he wants to give it life and-]

[She says his name so formally, and it makes it all the worse.]

Ergh. [A bit of a groan, a bit of a glance back, almost shy.] Even if I would...would you be first in line, then?

Every day.

[ a promise, easily thrown his way. ]

As long as you opened... after my classes ended.

[ since he's no morning person anyway, from her estimation. not like her. a moment together between her civilian life and her new duty, lip twitching into a mischievous smile at the thought. ]

But that's cutting out most of my daily business. How selfish you are.

[The light remark in return drops out easily. He wonders how it can, in the midst of such strange turmoil.]

[The easiest and hardest thing in the world.]

[ she giggles at that, turning back to look at him. ]

I'll swing by in the morning, then. We can walk together... or I can get a private session in your room instead.

[ ...

which feels... dangerous... but it's lightly said as anything else, even if she's a little curious to his response. ]

Ah...

[ah]

[uh]

[not trying to go there, tripping there instead, getting his bEARINGS hold ON PRIVATE SESSION?????]

[clearing his throat]

That's....bold of you, Malkuth.

I've been called a forward girl.

[ by... a couple people...

...

for friendship reasons... ]

But I don't see what's so bold about it, since you're a professional at whatever job you're put to. Aren't you?

[ nevermind that the thought of his hands anywhere more on her bare skin gives her goosebumps in a good way. she knows why it's bold... at least with that word choice. ]

[See, this is where those predator comparisons come back into play. She's so nice and sweet and now he feels like he's walking on the edge to an antlion's pit.]

[She really couldn't mean that, this is playful, but he's thinking about his hand on her leg from earlier, the way he squeezed it and the way he said her other name and the way she turned red.]

[He swallows.]

[And of course, he'll be professional.]

[(Wings, he needs to be actually drunk for this.)]

If you...need me to be. Yes.

[A safe answer. A nice answer. He's looking down at the antlion's pincers. This is not going to go anywhere, really. That's all.]

[ he doesn't feel far enough away for her to reply the way it jumps to mind, eyes darting to his hands and then to his eyes again. if she needs him to be, but only if she needs him to be, so if she didn't want him to be

what then? he'd been resistant to something softer and gentler, but there's a heat kindling in her that matches the longing she has to feel his hand against her pulse again. malkuth pulls her legs more towards herself, trying to will away the flush in her cheeks, the way it dips down her top.

she can't say it directly. she's a direct girl, but she's becoming too aware of herself now. they need more space between them than this bed.

wings, but even the room is too small. ]

You... don't need to be professional with me, Vergilius. Ever.

[ for any reason. ]

[Right.]

[The antlion yawns. He can see its pincers now. A small part of him he thought he buried a long time ago chases some fervent mental fantasy, scared hands on her body, mouth to whisper sweet nothings into her ear, to do...what? Not be professional. Whatever that meant, but with a context like this, who needs enemies?]

[His body feels too strange, like he's had to be made aware of it in the first time in years. Don't be professional. He's not stupid. He can see that hidden meaning. It sets something under his skin and he needs to tamp it down ]

[He finally turns to stare at her, with glittering eyes like gems. His hand twitches. It felt like its missing the placd on her legsm]

Those are dangerous words.

[Not even for that, but...]

[Isn't this too much trust afforded to him?]

What makes you say so?

[ they're not dangerous to her. not when she's still hiding enough from him. there's trust, and then there's trust; there's a difference, even if it doesn't feel so, but malkuth's heart still feels like a bird desperate for escape.

vergilius can't hurt her. he doesn't want to cause pain, or sorrow, or anything of the sort. he's gentle, cautious, and keeps a distance that she keeps pressing against.

there's every right to lash. he doesn't in a way that's meant to scar. ]

...I might hurt you.

[She might argue he's done nothing to do so. It's true. And it doesn't change anything. He can't trust himself completely.]

I have...a reputation for a reason, Malkuth.

[He was never made for softer things. He tried to be with the children, and punished for it. The world will always ask him to be cruel, no matter how much he keeps it at bay.]

[ that train of thought, again. she remains where she is this time, afraid (in a way) of what might happen should they be too close, and shakes her head. even if malkuth would like to put herself under his hands again, prove a point. ]

I'll take my chances. You weren't born with that reputation, and you don't need to be defined by it.

[ simple as that.

besides, more quietly, she doesn't think the Abnormalities that share her book will let him so easily. they're more untamed than in the library. as long as she a strong enough response, they'll come to her aid. even if they can't rend a Color Fixer unconscious... they can protect her.

malkuth doesn't mention so though, the theory only just that. ]

I won't define you by it, anyway.

...

[If it were only so easy. He thought he achieved that. Even as a Color, he had people who treated him as a person, children who held his scarred hands and gave him drawings and cried in his arms.]

[But the City still had its dues. He can't run away from who he is.]

I...appreciate that. [A long pause, his chest filling with air, expelling with a sigh.] I do.

I thought you might.

[ anyone from their city would, she thinks. malkuth knows she would. her gaze dips to her hands, blood unseen, and remains there. ]

I won't ask the same if you can't give it though. Even if I'd like it if you could just see... me.

[ not the role she's played, or the reputation the library gained. they're still things that make up her, that shaped her since the day she joined a research group so long ago, and she won't ever deny that. she'll speak as plainly as he does his color business if asked.

... but it'd be nice to be seen as herself, too. for whatever that's worth. ]

...I've already cast my gaze on you, Miss Duck.

[An altogether ridiculous phrase, but he means it, in the sincerity of it. Whatever this is...it's already decided.]

[He almost sounds a little bittersweet - there's the weight of tragedy, beating its wings in its eternal cage.]

We're already intertwined, whether you like it or not.

Ooh, how scary.

[ but it swells in her chest anyway despite the teasing tone, yearning to close their distance, and she looks at him for a long moment before throwing a circular frog plush at his head. ]

Get out before I do something you'll regret. I haven't kissed anyone yet and you're asking for it.

[ even if she'd just kiss his cheek, the threat is there. but she does appreciate it, more than words could ever say, twisting the blanket idly and relishing quietly in the way his eyes have always followed her. ]

Ow.

[(didn't actually hurt)]

[The plushie bounces off uselessly. He barely blinks. He could've caught it, but, well, where's the fun in that.]

[The so-called threat, though...now that's the thing that threatens to skewer him here, a little pleasant needle to the heart. He said before that she didn't make him feel young, but with everything here, the flirting (fuck, that's absolutely been flirting), there's some heated rush that feels like itching below his sallow skin.]

[Fuck.]

[This is the kind of stuff that shouldn't be a thing when sober. This is very, very dangerous. He opens his mouth, closes it, and feels like his lips are too dry when he hoarsely says, in reply:]

Don't....make threats you won't act on, Miss Malkuth. That won't look good on you.

[But he's already standing, almost a little too quickly, because if he stays here, even just for a second longer, he's going to do something he hates. He already hates this, in a sense. Does he hate it?]

[He's moving to the door, glancing behind him for a moment.]

Get some rest, okay...?

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