Kaisel
One foot in the ground
One foot in the grave
One foot in the grave
Kaisel doesn’t consider that her intentions are to twist him up. She is twisted, most definitely, but he thinks in this case there’s something horrifically wrong with him. Surely a friend would not purposefully flaunt themselves and blur the line so intentionally? Surely.
Unfortunately, this is Flora, not Shirley.
Still, Kaisel opts not to think about it, and definitely won’t say anything about it. Doing either is too risky, promising answers he doesnt want to questions he would rather not ask to begin with. They might sever this friendship in an irreparable way, and like a cut rope that uncoils and frays, so too would the comfort otherwise established between them. So he keeps burying it, his resolve to persevere and maintain his only anchor in the storm of her seduction, playful or not. He may be soaked to the bone, but he will not let himself drown in it, not today at the very least.
Her touch against him is scalding. The heat she’s been stoking, the uncompromising season, it’s all a lick of flame that rakes against his skin, but let it brand him if it must, he’ll take that gentle nudge of companionship over the blooms on her chest.
It cannot be so easy though.
She’s set him alight and simultaneously coaxes his copper stare back to her bosom with a flourish of fingers. His teeth set in agitation, grinding as she twists and turns, the dip of her hip and the depth to which her bottoms clung to it a new temptation to smother.
He snorts at her claim, jaw flexing. ”Surely the Queen of Torchline knows how to stay protected from the sun. Just suggesting, copper turns to crimson real quick. A jolt winds up him as her hand abruptly grips his wrist, and his head jerks back to her, copper caught on aqua. He considers, briefly, shoving the rest of the ice cream in her face. He thinks better of it though, or perhaps just can’t think at all as her tongue traces a shiver through him in tandem with the mango delight. Thankfully she releases him, and he huffs as he crunches through the ice cream and cone, trying to consume all the evidence and remove any future situations.
Then she says something incredulous. A blessed distraction. Not the pilot vs drive bullshit, though that’s almost as ridiculous. No, the part where his cousin is the stupid one. Kaisel can’t hide the look he gives her, like she’s grown a second head on the spot. ”You’re both stupid,” he sputters, and though he doesn’t clarify, he means Koa and Flora. Soh maybe too, but he doesn’t know enough of those details to call her one or the other. He shaked his head, laughing with a hollow sound of disbelief.
At least she had the strength to bring it up. Last time neither of them had, and Kaisel regretted it. He had been there to support what she’d lost, not what he hoped she’d gain, or so he told himself. Mostly he didn’t want to darken the mood by remembering old wounds, that usually set the hurt back in them. He might have launched his cousin’s name as a barrier for them today, and because he didn’t want to be so afraid this time. ”Do you still have feelings for him?” he asks pointedly, leaning his head on his hands as they prop against his knees. No wily tricks of hers now, he wants to see right through her, past her tits, past her jeers, straight into her heart—the truth.
Unfortunately, this is Flora, not Shirley.
Still, Kaisel opts not to think about it, and definitely won’t say anything about it. Doing either is too risky, promising answers he doesnt want to questions he would rather not ask to begin with. They might sever this friendship in an irreparable way, and like a cut rope that uncoils and frays, so too would the comfort otherwise established between them. So he keeps burying it, his resolve to persevere and maintain his only anchor in the storm of her seduction, playful or not. He may be soaked to the bone, but he will not let himself drown in it, not today at the very least.
Her touch against him is scalding. The heat she’s been stoking, the uncompromising season, it’s all a lick of flame that rakes against his skin, but let it brand him if it must, he’ll take that gentle nudge of companionship over the blooms on her chest.
It cannot be so easy though.
She’s set him alight and simultaneously coaxes his copper stare back to her bosom with a flourish of fingers. His teeth set in agitation, grinding as she twists and turns, the dip of her hip and the depth to which her bottoms clung to it a new temptation to smother.
He snorts at her claim, jaw flexing. ”Surely the Queen of Torchline knows how to stay protected from the sun. Just suggesting, copper turns to crimson real quick. A jolt winds up him as her hand abruptly grips his wrist, and his head jerks back to her, copper caught on aqua. He considers, briefly, shoving the rest of the ice cream in her face. He thinks better of it though, or perhaps just can’t think at all as her tongue traces a shiver through him in tandem with the mango delight. Thankfully she releases him, and he huffs as he crunches through the ice cream and cone, trying to consume all the evidence and remove any future situations.
Then she says something incredulous. A blessed distraction. Not the pilot vs drive bullshit, though that’s almost as ridiculous. No, the part where his cousin is the stupid one. Kaisel can’t hide the look he gives her, like she’s grown a second head on the spot. ”You’re both stupid,” he sputters, and though he doesn’t clarify, he means Koa and Flora. Soh maybe too, but he doesn’t know enough of those details to call her one or the other. He shaked his head, laughing with a hollow sound of disbelief.
At least she had the strength to bring it up. Last time neither of them had, and Kaisel regretted it. He had been there to support what she’d lost, not what he hoped she’d gain, or so he told himself. Mostly he didn’t want to darken the mood by remembering old wounds, that usually set the hurt back in them. He might have launched his cousin’s name as a barrier for them today, and because he didn’t want to be so afraid this time. ”Do you still have feelings for him?” he asks pointedly, leaning his head on his hands as they prop against his knees. No wily tricks of hers now, he wants to see right through her, past her tits, past her jeers, straight into her heart—the truth.
It's not the devil at your door
It's just your shadow on the floor
It's just your shadow on the floor
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
