maybe it should come to as an astonishment that gentleness can even still exist after what they’ve been going through; it’s all been clenched knuckles and the only benign touch that handles with care is for the spears that required such a hold in order to throw correctly—- besides that, the imagery of the current scenario acquiescently unfolding would’ve never made it through his mind.
button nose can’t help but crink away at the criticism; at least locks were kept out of topic —- it wasn’t that bad, or at least so o’s told him ( naive of him to take her word, he realizes, a moment too late. ) and with brows quirking with all the same, low hilarity takes form.
❝ that so ? i beg to differ; i was just as much of an asshole as anyone else on the camp; they just didn’t have my position to show it off for. ❞
its a balant bluff, half of the people he hadn’t known but he’ll bet his dinner that they’re polar opposite to his bold poise. whatever, if it got things done then there’s no mind in adding another insult to his collection ( he’s heard them all before. )
—- it’s not best to think about that.
and how could he ? when all that apparent urges that had drived him up against wall ever since he’s gotten here —- were presented before him; all in the form of a marred boy, who’s yet to breathe about his past or why he’s here to begin with, who’s as self righteous as they come but with no context and a side that tries to help wounds with trembled grip —-
who’s got no god to go to —- beside him;
( that’s if he can give himself the label, for gods are unforgiving and merciless to the bone; heaving menacing acceptations with blood soaked lips that inhaled manipulation and exhaled disaster. —
so maybe, he could be his god. )
rejoinder fails to string out through larynx, positive that he’s only heard a muffled version of etymons that leave the followers lips ( heart beat bashing and far too raucous, the type that’s only ever been felt when something bad happens.
judging by the way mind blanks and state has never felt so jauntingly viable, lips fit like puzzle pieces, he thinks theirs a first time for every thing, and may god have mercy on his faded soul, he can taste divine wonders on murphys lips; can
its instantaneous; attention doesn’t stray from the kiss ( doesn’t question how hands had already rested on curved jawline, how immediate reaction had been, how he can feel every fucking fiber in his body illuminate under murphys touch. )
somewhere in his head, there’s a prayer ( something he
stopped doing, empty pleads to a greater good never
happened, never served him any justice,
—-but he’ll become a believer again, if it meant even the slightest chance of luck he might relive this moment, might claim the blithe happiness the jaded boy holds in his hands his own.
ethereal cloud fucking nine ends as soon as it happens, a swoop of clashed lips that has him ignited; with sparked eyes and breathless outcome can only be masked so well—-but, the way flustered motions suit the fidgeting other so well, he almost doesn’t mind the fact that injuries coated them.
reticence bides for transient seconds, the muttered self-correction falling deaf to his ears; epinephrine still fresh and booming in his system that once the structure ends, it only takes four seconds for home to be found with brims gingerly ( too earnest, too genuine, ) back where they belonged; brushing against lips in the lightest of ways, ghosting over ‘til firm connection repeats.
he knows better then to push it however, therefore
there’s little restraint when build leans back — features
still held ‘tween palms agilely.
‘ ❝ sounds good, don’t really mind at this point. ❞
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