[private] jupiter's by my side and we watch galaxies collide

[aios]

jupiter's by my side and we watch galaxies collide

He is a storm that she cannot predict, cannot wield, cannot tame, and her blood thrills in response to it. Her eyes flicker with the challenge and the recognition of like calling to like—to the way her very body hums as the storm of him approaches. She holds his gaze steadily as he walks toward and does not yield, does not break, even when he severs the connection. 

He glances around, but she, unabashed, continues to stare at him—unafraid of the vulnerability or whatever else may stem from such blatant staring.

At his question, she laughs and the sound is like her: a little too loud, a little too sharp around the edges. It cuts across her tongue and she cannot help the swell of pleasure that warms her face that he would attribute such a thing to her. She makes a small noise in the back of her throat, neither confirmation or denial, and finally breaks her study of him to turn her attention toward the destruction around them.

For a second, there is nothing but silence that stretches between them.

Finally, she relents,

“No,” a confession that is tinged with no small amount of regret. 

“Not this time, at least,” and there is the wicked curve to her lip, at the promise that perhaps the next time, it will have been her. Perhaps done from temper or perhaps from boredom or perhaps from the simple knowledge of knowing she could.

Her face turns sly as she glances up at him through her thick lashes, and her smile is slow.

“Did you, Tumult?” a velvety question as she purrs it. “Did you finally unleash that storm?” 

my apathy is losing ground