OCKiss Day 2: Playful
Second day of the event featuring @barnabyjr’s lovely Aurora Asp! And a little snippet that I jotted out that made me giggle!
Wrong Girl…Right View!
Orpheus dipped from the sky into the forest’s dense pines. From a branch he wordlessly hopped to the ground with the lazy grace of something that belonged to the trees. He’d followed the white-haired figure through the pines with one singular purpose, find his cousin, start a fight, win it with words, reveal in her irritation and leave before her temper struck him.
But when the girl stepped into a spill of pale light, it was then that he noticed, he wasn’t following Carina. It was Aurora.
“Asp?”
The grin on his face didn’t vanish so much as it carefully melted away, until only his usual stillness remained.
Aurora didn’t slow. “Kerr,” she said without looking back, “why are you following me?”
“I mistook you for Carina,” Orpheus replied. “An honest error.”
Aurora finally glanced over her shoulder, her scarred brow lifting. “If you’re looking for another dalliance in the castle,” she drawled, “you’ll find Carina in the library.”
Orpheus made a sound, somewhere between a scoff and a shudder. “Merlin forbid. She’s my cousin. I was hoping to verbally spar with her. Tease her about Cat.”
He paused, as if remembering something unpleasant. “Besides, I wouldn’t do that in the library. Carina, and Madam Scribner, would have my hide nailed to a shelf.”
That earned him a real look.
Aurora’s brows rose slightly, as if she wasn’t used to him offering more than a few words at a time. Her eyes, green and bright, sharpened by the forest’s shade, caught the light when she turned.
Emeralds.
Pretty. Shiny.
Aurora faced forward again and continued down the narrow path. Orpheus followed, telling himself he wasn’t trailing her like a lovesick Kneazle.
That was a lie.
He wanted to see her eyes flash again.
They walked in the hush of the forest, birdcall above, wind threading through needles, the world behaving itself for once. And then the trees thinned, opening into a small overlook where the land dipped away into rolling green and far-off water catching the sky.
Aurora stopped at the edge, breath leaving her in a soft gasp.
“It’s beautiful,” she murmured.
Orpheus looked out at the view like it was a painting he’d already judged and filed away. “Mm.” His gaze fixed from the view before him to the curve of Aurora’s neck, the way her cheeks flushed from the walk.
Aurora turned her head sharply. “Don’t tell me you’re unimpressed.”
“I’m rarely impressed,” he replied dryly.
She made an exasperated sound. “Then why did you follow me all this way?”
Orpheus stepped closer, just enough to steal the space beside her without asking for it. His gaze slid from the horizon to her face, calm and unapologetic.
“I wasn’t following the scenery,” he said.
Aurora’s mouth parted as she sighed. Her gaze lingering over the view.
Orpheus leaned in and pressed a light kiss to her cheek. Soft, teasing, but with enough heat to send a shiver down her spine.
Aurora froze. A soft, startled gasp escaped her before she could swallow it, and her hand rose to her cheek like she expected the warmth to vanish if she didn’t catch it in time.
“I’m trying to enjoy the view,” she managed, voice betraying her.
Orpheus’ lips curved, small, wicked, unmistakably pleased.
“And I’m trying to enjoy you,” he said.
For a heartbeat she simply stared at him, emerald eyes wide, as if the forest had shifted under her feet.
“Oh?” she murmured.
Orpheus’ brow lifted, faintly amused. “Oh.”
Aurora stepped into his space instead of away, she grabbed the front of his shirt, tugging him down just enough to plant a bold kiss at the corner of his mouth, lingering a beat too long, her lips brushing his with electric promise.
It lasted a heartbeat.
Long enough to steal his next line.
Aurora pulled back with a satisfied little hum, eyes flashing wickedly. “Now,” she said, voice light, “I’m trying to enjoy the view.”
The tiniest pause betrayed him, like his mind had to reset its footing.
Then his mouth curved again, slower this time. Warmer.
“Careful,” he murmured, leaning just a fraction closer. “If you keep doing that, I’ll start following you on purpose.”
Aurora’s cheeks warmed, but she refused to look away. “You already are.”
Orpheus’ gaze flicked to her lips and back to her eyes. “Perhaps,” he said, voice a low velvet threat, “I simply like getting what I want.”
Aurora scoffed, but it sounded breathless. “Insufferable.”
“And yet,” Orpheus said, thumb brushing her wrist, “you’re still standing close.”
“Don’t get smug,” she warned.
Orpheus’ grin deepened by a fraction.
“Too late.”