i feel like a deer in the headlights of love
A SMALL HUM VIBRATES across the press of her lips. she hears words, nods accordingly ( habitually ) at their resonance, catching nothing but their quiet ring. she freezes less than a second later, blinking at the empty spot her eyes had been transfixed on. slowly, she raises them — taking in the sight before her.
nothing seemed especially off, at first. that was indeed still porco, hair still styled ; posture still assertive. the first particularity she noticed were his cheeks : painted with the dullest strokes of pink, creeping together until they hit a rich, cherry red at the center of his nose. she looks up and notices the absence of a crease between his brows. she looks down and grasps onto the unfamiliar curl of those lips.
hers follow suit.
❝ are you drunk, pokko ? ❞ she asks. her voice is of velvet when she speaks, brushing warmly against the air as she approaches this boy in languid steps. there’s the slightest lilt in her voice, not uncommon, but not usually so teasing. it seemed the only explanation, but OH — WHAT AN ODD SIGHT, INDEED. though, of course, not at all unwelcome. if porco was usually this welcoming when inebriated, she’d have to remember to get him drunk more often.
all these years, and she could read him quite well. no hesitation would be put forth in calling him a friend, a comrade — but in return ? his dour mood was a bit to take in at times, no matter how long pieck consumed it. for all the care & compassion she showed him, was it callow to admit she would like a little in return at times ?
her fingers rise steadily when she is close enough, winding over his jawline with caution. her eyes become mere crescents of humor & affection, curling over the slightest swell of her cheeks and under the soft flutter of her lids. he was letting her so close — she could map every feature, mark every freckle. his skin feels warm beneath her touch, prickling neatly as it overcame the metallic cool she was otherwise accustomed to. the engines of her heart were pumping her own source of heat now, accepting his fire with an excited thump.
he will push her away soon, she is sure of it — and the steaming fuel will simmer to a stop as she smothers its embers with a laugh. but for now, SHE WILL RELISH IN THE LIQUID UNTIL HER SKIN IS PRUNED.
❝ thought you could HANDLE your alcohol, hm ? ❞ she says, raising a mock incredulous brow. ❝ so much for proving colt wrong. ❞
