YUMI.
stars litter the sky, glistening above her as though they were applauding and her lips curl into a cruel smile. she’s in her natural habitat — alcohol coursing through her veins and crimson red decorates her knuckles ( and her white dress, but she’s never felt more beautiful ). she’s free, her body moves as if on autopilot, but she’s calculating; every attack is planned carefully. she’s precise, making sure to deliver blows to areas that will do the most damage: nose, jaw, throat ( and sometimes between the legs when she’s feeling cheap ). after all, he’s disrespected her and yumi couldn’t just let that go. the bartender is presently surprised when he attempts to protect himself, the dose of adrenaline intensifies, but she’s let down; he doesn’t keep with her for long. his body falls to the floor with a loud thump and she takes a moment to laugh before spitting at the male unconscious beneath her. “next time, think before you fucking touch me again — i may be easy, but not that easy.” hair on her arms stand at attention just before she delivers her final blow; her body stopping mid-swing, limbs frozen as if she’s preparing to kick a soccer ball. her foot is dropped and she clears her throat, bruised and dirty hands straighten her dress. yumi pivots in her heels, grey orbs shooting daggers at the silhouette in the distance. “the fuck you lookin’ at?”
CALLOUSED DIGITS MEET sun-slathered skin, the rough of his cheeks meeting chilled touch – he’d expected more for tonight, given the grandeur of this event and everything it seemed to entail when he’d first glanced it over. it’s a pity, really, because he thinks the weather isn’t so bad today; it’s warm enough to dance in, but he’s cold to the bone from having sat out all evening, with only the sheer fabric of his dress shirt to provide any comfort. S H E, however, looks like wildfire – he’s learned not to try and kiss the embers of this one, especially when he’s still nurturing fragmented ribs from when she’d rough-housed him last friday. a low chuckle escapes from between brims. “ nothing, sweetheart. you’re just a little startling, is all. ”
