KOA
Maybe he can't read her mind, but as Flora flushes and her expression drops, he finds he doesn't need to. He can see it clearly on her face, as well as if she'd spelled it out. Can sense the change in body language, the way the air rushes out of the room. He's fucked up, again, or nearly so, his inability to articulate around her threatening again to culminate in a flurry of devastated feelings and misunderstandings and shattered dreams.
And then she's standing, and turning, and gods if he can't feel her slipping from him, the rush of her attention and the quickened desire threatening to sour into bruised egos and empty beds. She always does this, and he always lets her, and so they go around and around, an endless dance of youth and longing and anger and hurt and desire and pain---
"Flora, stop." The world spins as Koa rises, snatching for Flora's fleeing hand. He grits his teeth, trying to focus, because gods he's not letting this happen again. "It's not that I don't want to kiss you." He's tugging, gently, praying she'll let him pull her around toward her, that she will look into his face and see how hard he's trying, how earnestly he wants her to understand. "But... if you'll give me a chance, I want to do things right. No running. I'm done pretending this is just hooking up. That I don't feel the way I do."
The way I think you feel, too.
"And if you don't want to, that's okay, too." And though it hurts worse than his head wound, he forces himself to smile at her, to make it clear that he means it, he does. "If you don't feel the same way, I'll understand. If you need time to think about it, I can wait. And if you want me to leave Torchline and never come back..." he sighs dramatically, placing a hand upon his heart in mock-sacrifice, desperate to inject some levity into this brawl-and-concussion-induced-heart-to-heart. "It'll be devastating to my tan, but I'll find a way to survive."
And then she's standing, and turning, and gods if he can't feel her slipping from him, the rush of her attention and the quickened desire threatening to sour into bruised egos and empty beds. She always does this, and he always lets her, and so they go around and around, an endless dance of youth and longing and anger and hurt and desire and pain---
"Flora, stop." The world spins as Koa rises, snatching for Flora's fleeing hand. He grits his teeth, trying to focus, because gods he's not letting this happen again. "It's not that I don't want to kiss you." He's tugging, gently, praying she'll let him pull her around toward her, that she will look into his face and see how hard he's trying, how earnestly he wants her to understand. "But... if you'll give me a chance, I want to do things right. No running. I'm done pretending this is just hooking up. That I don't feel the way I do."
The way I think you feel, too.
"And if you don't want to, that's okay, too." And though it hurts worse than his head wound, he forces himself to smile at her, to make it clear that he means it, he does. "If you don't feel the same way, I'll understand. If you need time to think about it, I can wait. And if you want me to leave Torchline and never come back..." he sighs dramatically, placing a hand upon his heart in mock-sacrifice, desperate to inject some levity into this brawl-and-concussion-induced-heart-to-heart. "It'll be devastating to my tan, but I'll find a way to survive."
With each love I cut loose, I was never the same
Watching still living roots be consumed by the flame
Watching still living roots be consumed by the flame
