there's fire in your blood
 | Her taunting smile turns warmer, more genuine when he calls her infuriating. She feels the echo of when the other Gale had said the same thing and there is no pain with the reminder. No heartache or longing for the kinder time of when he had tried to push her out of his life and she had not let him.
It is true, after all - she is infuriating and she is delighted about it and that she can have this effect on him.
But then Gale tells her no and she does not know what to do with his rejection even as it’s paired by a softening of his wrath. That single syllable stills her and she waits, waits for something else to happen so she knows which way to sway. Her red-orange eyes do not leave him when he repeats the word and she says nothing else when he moves slowly towards her. He is equally as likely to kill her again as he is anything else and she is past pretending her attention is elsewhere.
Mazikeen doesn’t shift away this time, she remains still - her eyes tracking him until they flutter closed at his teasingly soft touches, a small purr beginning somewhere deep within her. When he moves atop her she is expecting no delay and when he does not move any further immediately she begins to shift her illuminated body to encourage him.
A small needy groan escapes her when he mouths the words she wants to hear into her neck, as the desire that had been simmering beneath the fury is allowed to the surface with nothing held back. She arches into him then, tilting her bloodstained head backwards as she repeats the words back to him in a voice that is all hunger. You are mine and I am yours. Him saying this is enough and Mazikeen does not ask for more. She’s not sure she could concentrate enough to push the matter with his weight on her even if she wanted to, her mind is only on one thing - one want. There is no care about where they are in the open night air with the remnants of their meal not far away. She would’ve crouched right here in the bloody puddles after they feasted if he hadn’t mentioned Wishbone. Now when her claws flex they find dry soil as anticipation and need blind to her to all else.
m a z i k e e n . |
@ Gale
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