Aurelia
I wanna heal, I wanna feel
like I'm close to something real
like I'm close to something real
It's hard to pull away from him, from those gentle kisses he doesn't have to work too hard to steal. It's a kind of tender she's not used to, the kind that makes her cheeks flush and takes away from her normally steely exterior the moment she laid her eyes on Milo. But, yes, she does have other ideas. None of them are as good as kissing him but, well, a gift is a gift.
She takes her own sip in tandem with him, finding it pleasant herself. The wine is sweet and glides through her system with ease. Much better than the harsh, cringe-inducing strike of the other liqours she's tried in Haulani. Maybe she should make more drinks like this one, but it's a thought that is casually set aside as Milo asks how she's accomplished such a feat.
And she laughs a little, amused, "Well, it wasn'te just a rambutan. It took.. a hundred, probably. I got a recipe of sorts and went from there. It took a long time, you have to let it all sit and.. well, turn into wine." She winked at him, proud that it had turned out good. It had taken a bit of research but, all in all, the recipe itself was easy and the ingredients were readily available. The process itself was time-consuming, though.
He pulls her back again, and she steps easily toward him, curling herself between him and the counter. The glass is set down and she props herself up to sit on the counter with it, her eyes more level with his now.
"Yeah, you did tell me that," she says with a knowing glint in her eye, as if to imply that she still doesn't quite believe him. She can appreciate his next sentiment though, and it makes her smile fade into an understanding expression. Not wanting a fight if one doesn't need to be had is a good trait to have; it's safe.
Instinctively, she'll never be able to truly relate; she is a fighter through and through. Years of carving out a life for herself had, in turn, molded her into a battle-ready monster. At least, that's how she felt about herself most days. But, maybe if she could prove to everyone else that she wasn't, that she is a good person, then she could also.. finally convince herself.
"You don't have to worry about that, I'm tougher than I look," she says this in good humor but her eyes search his for a moment before they veer up to his rich-red hair. She brushes a stray tuft of it back, fingers itching to run through his locks. But they don't, they settle instead on linking around his neck gently, pulling him even closer. Her gaze meets his again, and she says quietly, "and I'll fight for you, so you don't have to."
"Especially now that I have those," and she inclines her head back towards the twin weapons, a playful smile easily gracing her features.
She takes her own sip in tandem with him, finding it pleasant herself. The wine is sweet and glides through her system with ease. Much better than the harsh, cringe-inducing strike of the other liqours she's tried in Haulani. Maybe she should make more drinks like this one, but it's a thought that is casually set aside as Milo asks how she's accomplished such a feat.
And she laughs a little, amused, "Well, it wasn'te just a rambutan. It took.. a hundred, probably. I got a recipe of sorts and went from there. It took a long time, you have to let it all sit and.. well, turn into wine." She winked at him, proud that it had turned out good. It had taken a bit of research but, all in all, the recipe itself was easy and the ingredients were readily available. The process itself was time-consuming, though.
He pulls her back again, and she steps easily toward him, curling herself between him and the counter. The glass is set down and she props herself up to sit on the counter with it, her eyes more level with his now.
"Yeah, you did tell me that," she says with a knowing glint in her eye, as if to imply that she still doesn't quite believe him. She can appreciate his next sentiment though, and it makes her smile fade into an understanding expression. Not wanting a fight if one doesn't need to be had is a good trait to have; it's safe.
Instinctively, she'll never be able to truly relate; she is a fighter through and through. Years of carving out a life for herself had, in turn, molded her into a battle-ready monster. At least, that's how she felt about herself most days. But, maybe if she could prove to everyone else that she wasn't, that she is a good person, then she could also.. finally convince herself.
"You don't have to worry about that, I'm tougher than I look," she says this in good humor but her eyes search his for a moment before they veer up to his rich-red hair. She brushes a stray tuft of it back, fingers itching to run through his locks. But they don't, they settle instead on linking around his neck gently, pulling him even closer. Her gaze meets his again, and she says quietly, "and I'll fight for you, so you don't have to."
"Especially now that I have those," and she inclines her head back towards the twin weapons, a playful smile easily gracing her features.
I wanna find something I've wanted all along
somewhere to belong
somewhere to belong
code credits go to Skylark!<3
