#akrasias

[agnoia-moved]

They’re a ten but . . .

They’re a ten.

" love you too. " she leaned up on her toes to press a soft kiss to his lips. " a ten and a ten together. couldn’t think of a better pair. "

[agnoia-moved]

" look at me. this is who i am, no matter how much you pretend it isn't. "

" do you really think that i’d do that? " nikki asked, eyes flicking up to @akrasias as she fights to contain the rush of thoughts that want to spill over her tongue. " i don’t pretend you’re anything. i know what you’ve done, i know who you are. and i’m still here. i’m staying. because i care about you. i don’t want to pretend you’re anything that you’re not. "

" doriano, look at me. i see you. and i’ve been seeing you. i don’t want you any other way. okay? i don’t pretend, and i don’t need to. don’t want to. why the hell else would i come all the way out here to a place i know nothing about? i know you… and i want to stay. here. with you. and you know exactly why. " the words i love you didn’t need to be said. not when there was a softness to her eyes and a gentleness to her touch as she reached out for his hand. " c’mon.. let’s get you cleaned up, okay? "

[agnoia-moved]

" red looks good on you. "

" you know, most guys say that kind of thing when their girlfriend comes out in a red dress. not when she’s covered in blood. " a weak laugh as she tugged sanguine stained shirt over her head. a little argument… one that ended with her nose bloodied and her rival’s eye blackened. she did a decent amount of damage before someone had pulled her away, shoving her back over to @akrasias as a way to get her to calm down. it wasn’t necessarily that she chased fights or confrontation- though the rush of adrenaline and dopamine certainly would give her reason enough.. she just would get so— so defensive.. protective- if she felt threatened she always felt like a cornered prey animal, backed into a corner. she hated it.

" do you have a shirt i can borrow? red, maybe? " a bit of teasing to her tone. " not blood stained would be preferred. "

[agnoia-moved]

"I can't stop thinking about the way you'd feel under me."

" you know you don’t just have to think about it. " the blonde hummed softly, allowing that to hang in the air for a moment as soft blue hues met green after a moment.

" what’s stopping you? because it sure as hell ain’t me. " // @akrasias

[agnoia-moved]

fuck it. also kisses her knuckles. maybe after a fight

it was stupid, and she knew as much. but that had never stopped her before. her hands had been bloody since she was a child, it was all she’d ever known. anger, fight. emotions had always been handled with swinging fists and bloodied knuckles. tonight was no different.

well— at least that part wasn’t. the fight itself had been ( in her mind ) unavoidable. the guy deserved it. his behavior? positively revolting. she’d watched him from her seat at the bar, his advances on multiple girls enough to make her fingers tighten around her glass. and when he’d made his way to her? there was no chance in hell she’d let it slide. a touch to her waist bad been quickly met with a slap. the slap led to her arm grabbed, and then the fight.. she was fine, save for the scraped up knuckles and a bruised ego. she really didn’t care— she was used to cleaning herself up..

what she wasn’t used to was gentleness.

his lips against the bruised skin had brought her back to herself, a shaky breath escaping tired lungs. it hurt, tenderness.. maybe because it was so unfamiliar. it was a foreign language, his touch to her shredded pride. in her experience lips were more for spitting venom, rather than providing comfort. for lustful distraction, nothing ever genuine.

she didn’t deserve it. that was all she could think of as his hand held hers. she didn’t deserve tenderness, or love. she wasn’t made for it. but fuck, did she want it. the way he looked at her, the way his touch made everything feel like it would be okay. she would pray at night just for the chance to feel strong arms wrap tightly around her, to squeeze her and hide her away from the cruel world that had bred a fighter instead of a lover. a fucking joke that only those who made her could laugh at.

" i’m sorry. " she whispered, a tear falling down her cheek as blue hues stayed affixed to the sanguine that had painted her skin. she wasn’t sorry for the fight. nah, the fucker deserved it, and she’d do it all over again. no matter how stupid it was. sorry that she’d caused a scene? maybe.. she hated causing him any issue. but that wasn’t quite it. no… she was sorry that he had to see this part of her. instead of the jokes, the humor, the passion.. he had to see the broken, the fearful… the rage of a prey animal backed into a corner, willing to do whatever it took to survive.

but right now, in this moment.. she was just tired. tired of the fighting, the running, the hiding. the mask she’d created of clever innuendo, veiled euphemisms and well timed punch lines fading away in the dim light of his office. it was just her. in all of her fractured glory.

" you don’t.. you don’t have to stay.. i’ve caused enough damage for one night. "

@akrasias

[agnoia-moved]

icons only: reunion in sicily

[agnoia-moved]

icons only: that fight with aly

[agnoia-moved]

icons only: taps!

send me “icons only” and something for my muse to react to!