@soothfog // @alulars // mr. johnson asked for: [chin] - to tilt my muse’s chin up to make them look at your muse.
HE HAS LEARNED SOMETHING. He has learned to take his shoes off when he enters the apartment shared by Mackenzie Knight and Cass Hwang and JM Hamilton. He did not learn this from Mackenzie; she has always been too preoccupied to tell him to undo his shiny black, brown, tan loafers. Besides, it was never her rule in the first place.
It was always Cass’s rule.
So this means that Johnson has been here while Cass was here and Mackenzie has not. Mackenzie has not heard about this from Cass. And she has not heard about it from Johnson, either.
She has just seen him take off his shoes.
Would Mackenzie still be herself if she seethed and let this slide? Would Mackenzie Knight be Mackenzie Knight if she did not act, and act viciously.
“You’re comin’ ‘round when I’m not here,” she says, flat, not an accusation because it is just a fact that they both know. She tidies the kitchen and lines up her own shoes and when she turns around, straightens up, Johnson is right there.
Johnson is lifting two fingers. He uses them to tilt Mack’s chin upwards. It is the first time she has felt the pads of his fingertips, the indents of his fingerprints. She cannot distinguish to this level. But his indented, fingerprinted vessel will feel every pore on her warm and soft skin, will feel her thrumming pulse, will feel a tension in her jaw as natural of a part of her since her baby’s cry the day she was born.
He doesn’t have time to speak. He was, perhaps, going to come clean about his detestation for her romantic situation. He was, perhaps, going to suggest a living situation safe from these temptations. I don’t know. I merely write the mortal.
Mackenzie grabs his wrist. Mackenzie slams her other hand over his mouth.
Mackenzie shoves Mr. Johnson, hard.