KAISEL
So, you wanna start a war?
Bang, shots fired
Bang, shots fired
He chuckled at her clarification, at the absurdity she always willingly jumped into with him. She was one of the few who didn't admonish him for not being serious enough. He could be serious. He wasn't a child after all, though most would say otherwise. Maybe, she trusted him too, and that was a nice thought. He often had to earn it time and time again, and while he did not normally let it bother him, did not dwell on it or let it sting, sometimes it was a lonely feeling to fight for the acceptance of your friends and family. Flora knew all about that. He lifted his hands in quiet surrender, managing to speak through his continued laughter, "I wouldn't dream of facing off against Mr. Bumble. I usually try to only pick fights I think I can win." Which, he did think rather highly of himself, not like he had to compensate for the lack of it that others gave him or anything, so he usually thought he could win. Against Mr. Bumble though? No shot. That'd just be GG EZ.
They both agreed, and they both remained in spite of it.
His foot stilled then, like the rest of the moment, perched on the edge of something ready to change. Whatever it would be hadn’t made itself known yet—and Kaisel, foolish as it was, hoped the answer would be nothing. Life didn't like to remain so stationary though.
He saw the subtle shift of her arm, closed his eyes against the light arc of nails against his back. It was an immediate comfort, a tingling that bloomed under her fingers and raced to the top of his head. The hairs on the back of his neck lifted slightly as goosebumps rippled across his arm. "You're far too hard on yourself, you know," he murmured over his sleeve, thinking of that last remark she'd made about naming drinks after her failed relationships. A jest, but one born from a hurt she carried and tried to cover with a smile. He exhaled loudly, and loathe as he was to do it, he lifted himself off the table and leaned a stretch up into the air with lifted arms, the motion buffeting against the lazy tracks she was tracing on his spine.
It had felt good—but so could the edge of a knife, if it scratched the right itch. He was close to her, had been ever since her and Koa had become, something. He would never risk losing that by trying to turn it into anything else.
They both agreed, and they both remained in spite of it.
His foot stilled then, like the rest of the moment, perched on the edge of something ready to change. Whatever it would be hadn’t made itself known yet—and Kaisel, foolish as it was, hoped the answer would be nothing. Life didn't like to remain so stationary though.
He saw the subtle shift of her arm, closed his eyes against the light arc of nails against his back. It was an immediate comfort, a tingling that bloomed under her fingers and raced to the top of his head. The hairs on the back of his neck lifted slightly as goosebumps rippled across his arm. "You're far too hard on yourself, you know," he murmured over his sleeve, thinking of that last remark she'd made about naming drinks after her failed relationships. A jest, but one born from a hurt she carried and tried to cover with a smile. He exhaled loudly, and loathe as he was to do it, he lifted himself off the table and leaned a stretch up into the air with lifted arms, the motion buffeting against the lazy tracks she was tracing on his spine.
It had felt good—but so could the edge of a knife, if it scratched the right itch. He was close to her, had been ever since her and Koa had become, something. He would never risk losing that by trying to turn it into anything else.
Pain is what you desire
So, you wanna be immortal?
So, you wanna be immortal?
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
