// I'd take the fall—I got you covered when there's no one at all //
He doesn't trust the sound of her laugh, each ring like a bounce that ricochets off different walls, as fluid as the wind and just as impossible to follow. The footsteps though, they write out an instant map that his gaze flashes to with the wild glint of success, eyes narrowing and grin curling into something feral. He’s alight with it, a boyish bolt of triumph striking through his chest as though lightning finally finding ground it’s been hunting. With the muted space where there's eerily no dust, he has the X he needs, Flora marks the spot.
He lunges.
His hands clasp onto and fumble against the warm outline of her vanished body with a frantic thrill. The moment he feels her—a brush of warmth, the give of her side, the flex of her arm—something primal floods him. His fingers dig in, firm and greedy, claiming, as if catching her were less a victory and more a need finally met.
She's smoke in his arms, but he drags her in like an inhale until he's crushing her against his chest. The invisible curve of her body molds perfectly to his and he lifts her clean off the ground. Heat rolls through him in fierce waves, pulse rising like a song willing to be heard beneath his skin. Flour swirls around them in a settling storm, drawing the outline of his triumph among her laughter and his ragged breath, their struggle carved into the air itself.
"You're mine," he growls against where her neck ought to be, voice dark with victory. Her invisibility makes the moment feel half-mythic, like wrestling a wild spirit into his arms, and he loves it, loves her. Raw, reckless want tears through him as he shifts her higher in his hold, grip tightening into a firm and unyielding cage with which he means to keep her bound to him now, punishment more than due.
He lunges.
His hands clasp onto and fumble against the warm outline of her vanished body with a frantic thrill. The moment he feels her—a brush of warmth, the give of her side, the flex of her arm—something primal floods him. His fingers dig in, firm and greedy, claiming, as if catching her were less a victory and more a need finally met.
She's smoke in his arms, but he drags her in like an inhale until he's crushing her against his chest. The invisible curve of her body molds perfectly to his and he lifts her clean off the ground. Heat rolls through him in fierce waves, pulse rising like a song willing to be heard beneath his skin. Flour swirls around them in a settling storm, drawing the outline of his triumph among her laughter and his ragged breath, their struggle carved into the air itself.
"You're mine," he growls against where her neck ought to be, voice dark with victory. Her invisibility makes the moment feel half-mythic, like wrestling a wild spirit into his arms, and he loves it, loves her. Raw, reckless want tears through him as he shifts her higher in his hold, grip tightening into a firm and unyielding cage with which he means to keep her bound to him now, punishment more than due.
Kaisel
// When you need somebody to turn to—Nobody got you the way I do //
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
