💏 / u know its devran @ medea, for some reason...
FIFTY WAYS TO KISS SOMEONE / ACCEPTING 29, AS A PROMISE
standing next to her is a provoked privilege that ripples across the fabric of the tellurian, a willing and willful effort on her part, like a desired response fit for someone of her stature —— granddaughter of the sun, yes, but myth of her own accord, and that second part is unforgettable. medea plays with the perception of all in her wake, as even the marble columns seem to want to bend to let her pass, but her honorable guest she leaves unadulterated, strolling by her side without consequence other than the unfiltered sensation of brushing against her cavernous lonesomeness, almost a punishment by itself. “ i already asked for patience, my fine friend. ” medea starts sour, not bothering to soften her moods to devran like she has to do routinely to the bulk of subjects that cannot handle a little animosity from her without resorting to weak-minded hysteria. she is annoyed herself by the obstacles not placed there by her hand, but nothing is a lost cause if she has something to say about it —— and quite often, she does. “ when have i faltered in making my will and my word the only one worth acknowledging? ” uncharacteristic of her, but she turns around in her step until she becomes what is now blocking the dragon’s path, catalyst of the confront that will ensue between the entities. medea radiates it now, the scent of the unmoved, the awkward magnetism of the solitary, tactless and unused in how she leans onto her companion to press her discourteous lips against the most inconspicuous spot of their cheek, right in the center, hardly touching and touching hard at the same time —— a cold pact not without its enthrallment. “ i promised what i promised and i am nothing if not a settler of scores. ” she declares but not anywhere close to the kiss that she placed, for her breath estranged from warmth is saved for something else.