be

this is your sport

but she's not playing a game

It’s his turn to flush her with his comments, her cheeks and ears darkening further as she presses into him, humming a light little laugh, letting his compliments push through the inner parts of her that scream that she doesn’t deserve it – not with how stained with blood her hands have always been. But he’s accepting her, honored to be there with her, and she would fight for him with everything she has if it ever came down to it.

And when he mentions he has a ring and she sits up to peer at him, meeting him part of the way to press that tender kiss to his lips in turn, hands lifting to thread through his dark hair as she watches him, face twisting into something of nostalgia and pride that he thinks she’d be deserving of it. And she’d wear it with absolute honor. “Fox,” she starts to say, combing her fingers through his hair as her lips twist in something sentimental. “I would love to see it. And I’d happily wear it.” Not even a second thought behind it.

She starts to move slightly, as if attempting to slide off of his lap so he can get it - but also slow enough that he could carry her if he didn't want to lose this closeness.

do not think you are safe because you love her

do not think she won't stain her mouth red with your blood too

KIADA