magnificent

i was unafraid, i was a boy, i was a tender age green @ TMH

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Stay For a While; || Leaf ♡ Green

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Had it been several years ago, sixteen year old Leaf would not have thought that this is where she would be. 

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[holocenix-blog]

     It wouldn’t have been a problem to have her right there in the middle of an alleyway. 

     Only that it is a problem, because first, the alleyway smells like rats and piss and sewers and everything wrong in this already wrong world; second, because he could have done this with any other girl in Kanto -- only that this isn’t just any other girl in Kanto, but the girl in Kanto ( and everywhere else, his heart, his ribs, his body included ) with eyes the color of the ocean, hair spilling in between his shaking hands, skin lit and inviting underneath his palms; and third, because he doesn’t want to just have sex with her. 

     He wants to touch the mountains of her body, the oceans found in the curves of her hips, the kisses he wants to brand on her skin using his mouth and tongue and teeth. He wants to use his hands to map out the places of her no one else has ever seen, wants to use his lips to set her heart on fire. He wants to ask her questions with his tongue; he wants to hear her responses through her mouth. He wants to bite her neck, her shoulders, her ribs. To swallow the groans and the moans and the way she’ll say his name -- breathless, desperate, and aching. What he wants -- he wants this, this life, this girl, this beautiful girl, this this this -- 

     He wants everything. 

     Leaf holds his hand in her own, fingers snatching the spaces in between, as snug and comfortable as a thief. Before he leads her out of the alleyway ( aka the best paradise of all ), Green quietly looks down at the bulge in his pants. It’s stiff enough to make him uncomfortable, but not hard enough to bite at his ego. Leaf’s skin is hot. It’s distracting him to so close to her. When he calms down, he finally lets them walk out into the burning sunlight. Their hands are tangled in between their bodies, willing to dance in exchange for heat. 

          “Lunch,” he slowly corrects. He can hear his head buzzing. His mouth feels drunk, like she’s vodka and this is the aftertaste. He pulls her closer to his body, hand immediately resting on the side of her hip. “No, dinner is boring. Dinner is like . . .” Green raises his chin, pretending to think. “Dinner is innocent, dinner is like babysitting your cousin. No, actually -- ” He presses his mouth on the shape of her ear. His teeth bares, nipping at her skin. Green can’t remember how to control himself; he doesn’t know how, now that he’s able to touch her with his ugly, ugly hands and kiss her with his ugly, ugly lips. 

          “Let’s make dinner interesting.”

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Stay For a While; || Leaf ♡ Green

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It wasn’t how she pictured it to be, if anything, it was way better. 

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[holocenix-blog]

     It’s been fifteen minutes, and counting. 

     Once upon a time, Green had told himself ( his sixteen-year-old, lonely and pathetic self ) that this had been a phase; that Leaf had not made him want to swallow sunsets; that Leaf had not wedged a piece of herself in the shape of his heart and nearly gave him a stroke; that Leaf had not and would not fit her heart in his shaky, unreliable hands; and she had not -- and would not -- love him the way he always had. 

     He had made himself believe -- or he had wanted to make himself believe because he was lonely and pathetic and sixteen -- that Leaf would not be kissing him, branding his lips with the taste of her mouth ( in a beautiful, beautiful way that makes his whole body burn in a beautiful, beautiful fire ); that Leaf would not be letting him so close to her chest, replacing her heart with his own; that Leaf would not be letting him fall in her unshaken, reliable arms; that Leaf would not be making him love her, even though he had never stopped. 

     She wraps her arms tighter around his neck, bringing their bodies closer, like she’s unable to let go once they’ve been pressed together. Green can hear her heartbeat, pounding against her ribs, making a song as if her body were an instrument. His eyes carelessly drift from the nape of her neck, now blemished with kisses and bites and teeth, before they land on the shape of her breasts. He can feel himself reeling. His self-control has diminished to the size of a ballpoint. With his hand on her bare stomach, fingers fleeting over her skin ( God, she’s so soft, he feels like he’s stopped existing ), it doesn’t help that he looks like he’s about to ravage her, and she looks like she’s about to ravaged. 

     “Me? Scared?” She gives him a pause -- long enough to restrain himself, not enough to let go. “The only thing I’m scared of is losing you.”

     It’s been twenty minutes, and counting. 

     His hand pushes the bottom hem of her shirt aside, fingers trailing past her bare stomach to the small of her back ( so, so soft ). Green can feel her pulse, fast and dangerous against his fingertips. He can barely control himself, with their mouths pressed together, bare and open and naked. God, he wants to taste her -- have a glimpse of her shoulder, her collarbones, her navel. It’s making him dizzy, to want something he should not be wanting. To be something he should not be. 

     Before he can manage to reach the clasp of her bra, he carefully steps backward, hands leaving the underside of her thighs. His fingers are aching. He wants more more more -- and he can’t have it. 

     Heaving a breath, he runs his fingers through his hair, tugging at the strands. “I think,” he sighs, face and neck flushed, “we should leave it at that.” Hesitating, he calmly adds, “You know. For now.”

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Stay For a While; || Leaf ♡ Green

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Craving.

The adequate description of what she was feeling, but not for food. She was willing to ignore the rumbling in her stomach to figure out what exactly she wanted, or rather needed to do. Deciding whether or not she should keep her hands just where they were, or catch him off guard, was quite possibly the hardest decision of her life. Or at least, it was in that moment.

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[holocenix-blog]

     He can’t remember how she managed to pull him off the street and into the back of an alleyway ( which smells, by the way, of rats and sewers and piss, but is magically faint enough to be ignored when there’s a beautiful and distracting, and beautifully distracting girl right in front of him ). He can’t remember how to hold her, but he remembers the nights he’d practiced in the back of his head. Holding her in this sort of hesitant way without being obviously hesitant about it. She is so so bright, and he is a slow burn. Unsure and undemanding, both of them are human fires. 

     She looks like she’s about to kiss him. He feels like he’s about to be kissed.

          “What?” he says when she murmurs an apology, and she closes the distance in between them, like she’s answering his question.

     There is no gradual escalation, no heartwarming confession before Leaf presses her lips against his mouth, and he presses his hips against her hips, and they’re pressing their bodies together until they can feel one desperate heartbeat being exchanged. His hands are fumbling underneath the fabric of her shirt, spreading on the small of her back. His fingers are fluttering over her bare stomach, and he almost expects her to tell him to stop, that this is too much and he is not enough. But she only gives him this lonely, questioning breath, like she’s asking his mouth to break her open. Telling his teeth to bite.

     It’s been thirteen minutes, and counting.

     He doesn’t understand how she can excite him so easily; he almost feels like a virgin, craving for her like this. But he doesn’t just want her for kissing or sex. No, it’s not just that. It’s not just the taste of her lips, not just the feel of her hips against his own, their bodies dancing without music or a dance floor. It’s not just this. Green wants something more -- no, he wants her shoulders, her ribs, the spaces ( both unoccupied and full ) of her heart. He wants her. He wants all.

     His fingers land on the skin of her hipbones. They’re so soft, he feels like his heart is about to combust into pieces. To explode. It’s burning him to be so close. His hands clutch the shape of her thighs, and Green smoothly lifts her body in quick succession. Switching them over, he gently slams her against the wall. He doesn’t separate their lips, keeps them at an available distance. Green doesn’t want her to stray from him; his tongue is drunk on her tongue, mouth taken hostage.

     Soon, he’s kissing down her jaw, leaving a wet and open-mouthed embrace on her throat. His teeth are aching, digging on the side of her neck. One hand is holding the line of her cheek, while his remaining grip is steady underneath her thigh. He hadn’t known how to touch her; now he realises that that was not the case. He was -- and he still is -- afraid that the moment his hands would park on the shape of her body, her hands full with the shape of his, he wouldn’t know how to steer clear from that pathetic addiction.

     He hesitates, drawing away from her without disclosing much of their distance. “Does this,” he says, “not scare you?”

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Stay For a While; || Leaf ♡ Green

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Struggling to not roll her eyes, she could tell he was boasting. Not that she minded, but she found it amusing. Green was a remarkable Gym Leader, relentless even. In her non-biased opinion, he was probably one of the best in Kanto. Would she ever tell him that? Well, maybe not in public.

“Of course I was watching,” She speaks softly, the grin melting into a warm smile. “I’m sure about paying, besides, whens the last time we had some alone time?”

[holocenix-blog]

     It excites him ( in this stupid, painful way, or in this stupidly painful way ) to be so close to her. He can feel the weight of her body pressed against the weight of his, the way they fit in this perfectly fitting puzzle, like there’s no other piece that may be able to complete what’s missing. Green can smell her perfume -- it’s light and kind of flowery, and also kind of drawing him in, in its light and flowery way.

     God.

     He wants to feel her -- all of her, the entirety of her, no parts unchecked -- using his hands to create roadmaps and time loops, leave her with an imprint he won’t let her forget in the near future. He wants to place his hand on the small of her back and feel her pulse, feel her muscles churn against his palm, feel everything and have everything. He wants to touch her shoulders, her hipbones, the skin connecting her arms and her elbows. He wants to kiss her mouth ( he’s been staring at it for so long, Green doesn’t know how she can manage not to notice, or if she’s simply deciding not to ), the nape of her neck, and it’s absolutely killing him that he isn’t. He, in this pitiful and repeated realisation, has always been selfish like that.

     But God. It’s been more than five minutes -- eight, approximately, and counting.

     He can’t take it. 

          “Yes,” he agrees, distractedly, “a cafe. Sounds good. Do they have pies? I’m surprisingly craving.”

     Maybe he’s forgotten what craving means, because he’s not hungry for pies nor is he hungry in general. But he’s so tempted, staring at her this way. In an I want to kiss you way. Only he fails to differentiate kiss and eat when they basically mean the same thing.

     She looks so beautiful like this -- the sun fleeting over her lips, her cheeks the color of red wine and getting high and drifting off to good music. And God, her mouth, her lips -- they look like they taste of religion, and Green has forgotten how to sin. Just then, she holds his hand, shy and hesitant and close to letting go ( no, he thinks, don’t ), and she almost parts her mouth like she’s about to ask for permission, even if permission is not at all needed. But she doesn’t, and instead, she lets him flutter his fingers in between the spaces of her own.

     He uses this bridge to pull her closer, keep their distance short, and her body reachable. Leaf is not an impossible thing to have, but she makes herself so impossible to want. Or Green makes her so impossible to want. He isn’t sure now if the problem lies with his inability to commit, or with his refusal to commit to her, knowing that he’ll inevitably hurt her in the end. Regret, his grandfather had told him, way way back, is the worst thing anyone can ever experience. Think about that.

     Well, he’s thinking about it.

          “Things have been . . .” He doesn’t know if he should lie, say he’s fine and dandy, and he’s definitely not homesick. “I haven’t gone home in seven weeks,” he admits, the safer option, although Leaf knows him, and she knows that even he gets a bit lonely. “I don’t think I have clean clothes anymore, with the gym keeping me busy.” He’s so miserable, he’s forgotten how to wash his underwear. “You must remind me later, babe. Unless, you know, you’re planning on going home without me. Not that that’s a good option, of course. How boring that would be.” 

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Stay For a While; || Leaf ♡ Green

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Her mind was reeling.

She never thought a hug would feel so good, especially coming from him. It was like everything chaotic in her life had come to a complete halt, and nothing else mattered. He smelled like home, a forest type of scent. His body was warm, making it hard to pull away. Keeping her ear pressed to his heart, she smiled. Was it her that was making it beat so fast? She could only hope that was it. 

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[holocenix-blog]

     God, he loves the way she says his name -- full in her mouth, like the aftertaste of caramel, carelessly wedged in between her teeth like she can’t quite figure out how to get rid of it. And as stupid as he can be, or as stupid as he can allow himself to be ( because with this type of things, he has to have a clear head and sharp teeth, and maybe a cheap bottle of beer to go with it ), he hopes with a secret, longing fervour that she never has to, that she never will.

     God, he thinks again. He doesn’t say it out loud this time; Leaf may think she’s facing a sinner who’s just learned how to pray. Green doesn’t know how he can be alone with her for longer than five minutes -- if he should be alone with her for longer than five minutes. He used to think it was possible, like five minutes ago, before he can manage to recall the shape of her against the shape of him, but looking at her now -- with those sun-kissed cheeks, cherry wine lips, and his desire stronger than local palm trees -- he’s just as certain that he wants to kiss her, as certain that she wants to be kissed.

     But he doesn’t -- because it would have meant stepping over the line that he’d made years ago, when he realised with this aching, naive confidence that he would never be able to be the guy she wanted. For now, however, he lets himself tattoo the memory of her body on his hands, like he just might control himself if he can pretend that he can’t lose what he’s never had. For now, he thinks, reminding himself when he attempts to take a step forward, let me pretend.

     He stares at her mouth. He almost says, say my name again.

     Instead, he raises a hand to the back of his neck, fingers clutching the strands of his hair to tug them from his head. “Were you watching?” He grins; this playful, aggravating gesture that quirks just above his teeth. It looks almost carnal, like he’s eaten something sweet. Green likes to think that he can pull off sexy without thinking about it. “Of course you were,” he answers for her, casually shrugging. “Who wouldn’t have?”

     He’s secretly pleased with this, as he’s always pleased with whatever Leaf is doing.

          “Are you sure you want to pay, though?” He buries his hands in his pockets, hunching his shoulders as he uses the heels of his feet to lift his body forward. “I’m trying to be a gentleman here, if you can’t tell. You’re not exactly making it easy.” Green finally steps toward her, resting his arm around her shoulders as he gently coaxes her in the door’s direction. He’s tempted to rub his thumb on the nape of her neck; he settles with her shoulder, instead. A familiar curve, but he still falls right along the ditch.

     Turning to his receptionist, he says before they leave, “Tell whoever comes here that I’ll be back tomorrow. Gotta take this pretty girl on a date.”

     Green pushes the door with his palm, and they step into the beaming light of the late morning sun. “So,” he continues, offering her a smile that says sexy right through his teeth, “is there any specific place you’d like to treat me? You know I’ve never been that picky with food. Desert sounds nice, though. Just saying.”

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Stay For a While; || Leaf ♡ Green

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Watching how effortlessly he takes down the trainer, she half expects a snarky comment. When it doesn’t come, she is at a loss for words. Looking closer to the monitor, he looks cold. Normally, his fiery personality dominated the room, which made battles ten times more interesting. His comments were what fueled the other trainers, but this time he just looked so tired.

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[holocenix-blog]

     It’s so painfully obvious that he hadn’t expected to see her. He can feel it written on his features -- no, not written, but scribbled, in a messy way, like he can’t quite hold the pen right -- all scrunched up nose and uneven lips, a crooked smile that he hopes sends Leaf’s heart straying off a highway. Swerving off the main road and driving back to him. Green is that city you hadn’t imagined yourself finding, but you’re glad you did.

     And then, you get lost, he thinks, watching her breath cease, like she’s momentarily forgotten that oxygen exists, or he’s taken up most of her lung space ( the latter is definitely most preferable ), and you wind up in the bad part of town, because there is always a bad part of town.

     These thoughts, however, are pushed away -- shoved -- when Leaf steps forward and embraces him, arms tucked tight around his body, her head fitting underneath his chin. Almost as if she’s found comfort in the shape of his heartbeat, and she can’t stop listening to his chest. Green places his hands around her waist, fingers slipping carefully on the small of her back, collecting pieces of her and taping them together. He buries his nose in her hair. She smells like lavender. The really good kind. Like pressed flowers.

          “God,” he whispers. It’s something he rarely does, to whisper, because he always talks a little too loudly, all rabid teeth and less of the listen. Less of everything else. “I missed you, so much.”

     With Leaf, there are no bad places -- just the good kind. Just the small, closely knit cafes; brewed coffee, but with enough sugar to send his heart pumping; vintages stores, selling vinyls and other vintage things; cute apartments with those plant-filled balconies ( he’s always secretly thought those were attractive to live in, if he weren’t already so attractive himself ).

          “God,” he says again. His vocabulary is spectacular today. He can’t even think to say her name again, but it stays stamped on his tongue, a brand he’s failed to remove.

     Green rests his hand on the back of her head, bringing her face closer to his neck. She’s so close, so so close. He’s tempted to kiss her. Press his lips against her mouth and have her taste the weight of his sins. Green can’t remember if he’s smoked today, but he can’t find it in his breath. Carefully, he draws his mouth on her forehead, shying just above her temples. He doesn’t kiss her -- but he’s as close as he can allow.

     He moves away from her. It’s a painless gesture, but his heart squeezes, like it hurts to be so far from her even when she’s only two inches away. Well, three inches now.

          “Lunch,” he says suddenly. An invitation, but one he won’t let her refuse. “Come with me. I’ll treat you. I’ll give this day to you. Call it a welcome home party.” His mouth quirks, a hint of a smile threatening to blow to his cheeks. “Just the two of us. It’ll be fun. I’ll make sure you have fun.”

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Stay For a While; || Leaf ♡ Green

Returning from her trip to Kalos, Leaf found herself stuck at home with nothing to do.

 Her mother lingered in Unova to work with Professor Juniper, which left her with nothing to do. She had successfully rearranged her room at least three times within two hours, and it hadn’t even hit noon. Rubbing her eyes, she sighed. Even though she had just returned, she wanted to leave. Something about being home just made everything feel so empty.

Grabbing her saddle bag, she rushed out of her front door. Turning around, she made sure that the stove was turned off and that all doors were locked. The last time she had left, she had left the window in the kitchen open, and a Pidgey made itself comfortable and at home. Her mother however, didn’t like that much. 

Calling out her Charizard, she hopped onto its back, and headed to Viridian City. 

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[holocenix-blog]

     The day has just started -- and he already feels a little tired, like his fingers have gone numb ( he hears this is frostbite, like from the cold, but it’s never been that chilly here in Kanto, and it rarely snows ), and his tongue is a bit dry ( well, dryer than normal ). He tries to say something that may set the battle off, like an excuse or something, anything to distract the lousy trainer in front of him. Like, “Hey, you suck, man,” or maybe, “You know, maybe you should battle me when you can actually get a hit, huh?”

     Instead, all that comes out is a sigh -- defeated, heavy on his tongue, like beer ( bubbly and intoxicating and so common ).

      Green is tired. Exhausted. He just wants this over with.

           “Janus,” he calls out. His Scizor turns towards him in that momentary second; his concentration stays on his opponent, however, but this strays very carefully, as if he knows that Green is about to get pissed. Janus is smart -- then again, why wouldn’t he be? “Can we end this?”

      His Scizor doesn’t need to question it; he never does. Janus slices through the distance in between him and the Blastoise on the other side. Cutting through, he pushes his arm and knocks the water-type’s jaw with his pincers. Blastoise, alarmed from the great sock to his head, dizzily steps backward. The challenging trainer is yelling something ( Green can’t hear over that ugly smell of victory ), but his Pokemon seems too distracted by the pain coursing through its temples.

      Scizor pierces the Blastoise with one final hit, causing the Pokemon to roll over. The trainer’s face falls in distress -- his mouth is shaped in this pathetic frown that almost conjures an apology. Almost. He pushes his hand forward to recall his Blastoise back in his pokeball. Walking towards the exit, he considers saying something before taking his leave. He waits for Green to face him, instead.

      He doesn’t.

      Over the speaker -- he had those installed last month, he figured taking calls from his secretary would have been too professional -- he hears her voice speak. “Green,” she says, in that tired voice of hers ( everyone in this damn gym is tired ), “you have a visitor.”

      He doesn’t give her time to breathe. “Don’t have time.”

           “She said her name is Leaf.”

      Green looks up from his fingernails. His breath stops, as if her name has taken every inch of it from his lungs, as if she’s stolen the pieces of his heart in that small moment. He rushes out of the battle room, reaching the front desk with urgency, like he might miss her if he’s one second too late. When he sees her, he feels like the world has stopped rotating, pausing in the middle of the orbit to take a longer glimpse of what’s already so fleeting.

           “Leaf,” he says, in that gentle way that’s almost so unfamiliar. If she puts her hands in front of her, he would have given her his heart -- bruised, beaten up, shaped like a cut. Like he’s saying, please be gentle. “You’re back.”

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tmh aesthetics;

→ green / @holocenix

and i’m not tryna ruin your happiness

but darling, dont you know that i’m the only one for ya?

[cobalon]

origins green x generations green