Hotaru
Comfortable enough to think you'll take her
But when she smiles, her teeth are razors
But when she smiles, her teeth are razors
Fun? Oh, it can be. And even in Hotaru's hands, volatile and violent in the ways she intends to use it, she will still consider it fun. Her answering smirk is short-lived, vanishing beneath the too-controlled stillness of her face as Wessex pulls her close, but the satisfaction of approval lingers. As does the curl of something else in the pit of her stomach at having seen the attractive cut of Wessex's grin.
Hotaru is too focused on remaining still for inspection to notice Wessex's transformation at first. When she does her breath hitches slightly on an inhale, tilting her chin just sideways enough to take in the half-transformed features. "Beautiful," she murmurs, and has to bite the tip of her tongue to not outwardly wince at the slip of the tongue. Wessex leaves her line of sight seconds later, sparing Ru the tragedy of marinating in her embarrassment. Only to have the secondary struggle of not reacting to the easy, almost proprietary touches that adjust her stance. Or maybe that's just wishful thinking. Ru doesn't have a great track record with her dumb heart and beautiful Ascended.
Eyes that are too well-trained to not be drawn to the appearance of the illusion snap to the offered target, all other less pressing thoughts trickling away as Wessex's voice comes from behind her ear. Hotaru inhales, exhales slowly in the same way she does with a bow, and releases on the exhale. Watches the steel ball rocket towards the illusory fox, sailing just beneath the ribcage. Knocked a little low by the linger, incomplete release of her fingers on the strap. Hotaru curses lowly under her breath. Close, but not close enough.
Hotaru is too focused on remaining still for inspection to notice Wessex's transformation at first. When she does her breath hitches slightly on an inhale, tilting her chin just sideways enough to take in the half-transformed features. "Beautiful," she murmurs, and has to bite the tip of her tongue to not outwardly wince at the slip of the tongue. Wessex leaves her line of sight seconds later, sparing Ru the tragedy of marinating in her embarrassment. Only to have the secondary struggle of not reacting to the easy, almost proprietary touches that adjust her stance. Or maybe that's just wishful thinking. Ru doesn't have a great track record with her dumb heart and beautiful Ascended.
Eyes that are too well-trained to not be drawn to the appearance of the illusion snap to the offered target, all other less pressing thoughts trickling away as Wessex's voice comes from behind her ear. Hotaru inhales, exhales slowly in the same way she does with a bow, and releases on the exhale. Watches the steel ball rocket towards the illusory fox, sailing just beneath the ribcage. Knocked a little low by the linger, incomplete release of her fingers on the strap. Hotaru curses lowly under her breath. Close, but not close enough.
Where she comes from, there are no saviors
