#* mark.

[cerynitiis]

“ you don't text, don't call... ” elia tuts, though a smile plays on the corner of her lips. she stalks closer to him, light swing of her hips, playful bounce in her step. end of shift, l.a.'s heat weighing on the city like a cloud. eyes scan him, taking in the green of his eyes, the veins in his neck, his broad shoulders, narrow hips. her heart skips a beat. she drops her purse, allows it to land on the dirty alley floor with a soft thud. she doesn't give a damn, not in this moment. gentle arms curl around his neck and she brings herself in closer, nose brushing against his, breath against his lips. she hovers, teasing. she's not usually this forward or this forgiving, but then men aren't usually this pretty.

“ three days is a long time to make a lady wait, ” she whispers against his mouth. then she kisses him, lightly, playfully, parting with a soft bite. “ have you figured out how you're going to make it up to me yet ? ”

@washsins / @x78091 requested a random kiss for mark

[cerynitiis]

@hd7370

the city is already burning hot today, stuffed with tourists looking for an escape, the roads chockfull with locals who are fleeing to the beaches. she has been working since seven, serving sweating glasses of cold sodas and iced coffees to the flushed masses who come into the restaurant for relief. the ac has been rattling all morning, unnervingly loud. elia prays it doesn't break down during her shift.

the bell above the door rings. elia looks over, eyes sweeping over the tall figure, no-bullshit look in his eyes. there's an itch of familiarity there, but it takes her a minute to remember him. oh !

los angeles, summer 2023. she had been working all day, picked up a shift for a colleague stuck at home with their sick kid. there was no one left in the restaurant, only a thirty-something, perhaps forty-year-old man sitting in a corner booth, silently enjoying a coffee after what she presumed was a day as long as hers. kitchen staff was in the back, she alone in the front, mopping the floor. bell rung. in came a customer with pocket knife in hand, nervous demeanor. she had stared for a minute, frozen, unsure what to do. she settled for inviting him to sit, but her voice rung out high, nervous. if he sat down, she would take his order and then run into the kitchen, call the cops. he did not sit down. he stepped forward instead and opened his mouth, clearly about to make a demand, but he only got as far as don't say a fucking word when he was spectacularly tackled to the ground by the other customer. knee on his back, pinning him down securely, then no-bullshit, friendly eyes found hers. you okay?

instinctive smile finds the corner of her lips. elia makes a beeline for his table ( no way she is letting anna take this one ), notepad and pen already in hand. " good morning. my name is elia, i will be your server for today. what can i get you ? it's um- it's on the house. "

[cerynitiis]

[ SOOTHE ]: Elia places her hands on the marks shoulders and begins to give him a massage. Please he needs it

mark is sat on the couch, head in his weary hands, fingers repeatedly running through his sandy hair in a self - soothing gesture. elia approaches quietly from behind. she watches him for just a minute, eyes tracking his tired yet restless movements, the way his jaw clenches and shoulders tense. a migraine. she knows him well enough by now to recognize the onset.

a finger lightly taps the nape of his neck to let him know she's there. lips follow, pressing a gentle kiss to his clavicle, her chocolate hair falling over his shoulder as she leans over. he still smells like work, like sun - heated sand and traces of sweat. " hi baby, " she whispers. her hands rest on his shoulders, slowly moving down to explore his muscles, trying to see where his body is holding the tension. she begins to massage gently, fingers digging deeper into his skin every now and then, applying pressure where its needed. " long day, hmm ? "

[cerynitiis]

“ have you read this ? ” elia tilts her head, lifts up her book to show him the cover. the color of neon tears. various people had been raving about it at work, but until recently she'd been reluctant to try it herself, afraid she would find it distasteful or tragic. it was anything but. devastating subject matter, yes, but the writing was oddly refreshing, clean and crisp and airy, a touch of humor here and there. she only started yesterday, but she has barely been able to put it down since. some of the pages are already dog-eared. “ someone at work recommended it to me. it's good. better than good. i think you'd like it. ”

@washsins for mark <3

[cerynitiis]

My muse stumbles over their words, finally managing to say, “I… I think I’ve been in love with you for a while.” from mark >>>>>)

elia waits patiently in her doorway, arms folded, single brow raised in amusement as she listens to mark's tirade. he is stumbling over his words, struggling to weave his words together, let alone finish a single sentence. she inclines her head, long dark hair falling over her shoulder like a curtain. i guess all this is to say... i... i think i've been in love with you for a while.

and there it is. elia smiles gently and steps forward, freeing him from the bouquet he's been holding. the flowers have already started to droop in the los angeles heat. she raises a hand to cup his cheek, thumb softly brushing over the stubble of his beard. she cannot seem to tear away her gaze from his mesmerizing, spring green eyes. a thousand warnings sound in her head. mark meachum is an officer of the law who will always put his job first. he will leave her. he will be gone for months. he will undoubtedly break her heart. but as she meets his sincere, hopeful stare, as she looks at the man before her, all she can think is that he is worth every bit of pain he may cause her. blood rushes to her cheeks, a light finds her eyes and her smile grows. she opens the door wider. “ good. i've been in love with you for a while, too, mark meachum. do you... you want to come inside ? ”

@washsins

[cerynitiis]

"You’re supposed to be off-limits." bounty hunter mark >)

he's leaning back against his seat, sunglasses still on, looking anywhere but at her, at the hand she's got on his thigh. elia stares in surprise before she starts laughing, hard enough to shake with it. off-limits. “ sorry, ” she says after she's gathered herself, still slightly breathless. joy dances in her green eyes. she tightens her hold on him, fingers daringly sliding further down his thigh. “ i appreciate your professionalism, i really do, but off-limits ? don't you think it's a little late for that ? ”

her mind is still filled with memories of the day before, of the madness that had overtaken her, but most of all the scent of sex, the feeling of his body against hers, sweaty and hot and hard, the roughness of his hand over her skin. she had not expected him to hear from him or see him again, let alone to be here today, but there he was, waiting outside in his hellcat, having paid her bail. clearly, all professional lines have long since been crossed. so she leans in closer rather than keeping her distance, inhales the smell of his leather and cologne, dusts a series of soft kisses over his jawline. “ we could do professional, if that's what you want. we could both go home. keep our distance. forget this ever happened... or you could come with me. ”

@washsins

[cerynitiis]

❛ i... want to lie here. ❜ from mark !

it's been so long since she's seen him this at peace. mark is laid spread eagle across the mattress, limbs splayed in all directions, a blissfully happy look on his face. his eyes are closed, lips pursed as though he is imagining a dream. i... want to lie here. elia cannot help the titter that escapes her.

“ scoot over, ” she tells him. she sits down, tests the plushness of the mattress before flattening herself against him. he's right, she doesn't want to get back up, though she's not sure if its the mattress or the fact that they are here to pick one at all. ten months back, she was sure that their time together could be counted in hours or days rather than weeks. although they can never be sure just how long they have, how long the experimental treatment would work, these past few weeks have marked the first time that either of them dare dream of a future together at all. so here they are, choosing new furniture for their place together. new chairs, a dining table, a new bed, a new mattress.

elia turns her head to look at him. her hand finds his, fingers intertwine. “ you're right, i think this is the one. ”

@washsins