#molotovmary.

[necktiesocial]

@molotovmary

william is caught off guard. his head, tilted back, neck raw with few brutal bitemarks; the white work shirt he put on this morning now ripped so thoroughly, it looks like pieces of tissue scattered over his bare chest. a breath catches in his throat, then comes out with a surprised laugh; short, huffy, like a bark.

he glances down at her hands, bloodstained and roaming. there seems to be actual consideration in his gaze, burgundy with lust and awkward amusement. "that your idea of dirty talk, sweetheart?" his voice is lower than usual, slightly hoarse from the lovely abuse on his throat.

"i mean, fuck." a hesitant hand rests on the side of her small waist. then, it moves to grab a hold of her wrist, to guide it, all the way to his lap, right under where she's perched up like a killer cat. he presses it down, lets her feel. feel it alright. "got me like that all by your lonesome, ginge." the grin on his face is quite pleased, smug even, if a little distracted.

there is no fucking way he's answering that question plainly. "now, giddy up."

[drunivers]

it's quieter, away from the big cities. riko doesn't remember the last time she was in middle america, without the buzz of city life on either coast. she'd grown up in tokyo, gone to finishing school in seoul. then it was off to new york. their bigger shows were in chicago, los angeles, boston. when was the last time she'd felt this quiet? was it the first time she met wayne?

even with the sun down, the summer air is warm, a caress on riko's bared midriff where she leans against the side of the car. she catches herself looking at mary, and looks away to not be noticed. mary's quieter out of the city too, she supposes. easier to get along with. or something. (or maybe it's just riko who quiets, becomes something closer to normal. closer to what she might have been before all this.) they're taking a moment to stretch their legs, switch drivers. it's not like mary needs to sleep, but riko will eventually. (it tingles down her spine, the idea of mary watching her sleep. about being that vulnerable around her, without wayne to mediate. she wants to chalk it up to practical, healthy amounts of fear, but. but maybe it's not that simple.)

"are you --" her voice comes out a little hoarse from disuse. riko clears her throat. she's even speaking softly, like she's scared of shattering the quiet. like this roadtrip is all a dream that could disappear if she spoke too loud. "do you need to eat?" why is she asking? for her own safety, of course. the same reason her eyes are on mary's mouth. why else?

@molotovmary

[drunivers]

@molotovmary : IT MIGHT DO YOU GOOD TO BE AN ORPHAN.

mary is a blunt instrument, a hammer who sees the rest of the world as a nail. riko knows this. there’s a reason she doesn’t let mary do interviews; if she had her way entirely, the press wouldn’t even know mary spoke english.

and sometimes it seems like mary takes a special delight in applying that blunt force of her observations to riko, seeing if she can make her composure crack if she hits just the right angle. (she won’t. she never will.)

riko laughs instead, light and almost-genuine, like they’re having a normal conversation. as they walk down the halls to the studio, interns and accountants take notice, a sea of snakes in ugly business suits all scouring overbite’s manager and its drummer for any sign of weakness. riko’s heels click, a practiced metronome on polished flooring.

and it doesn’t really matter that the smart thing to do is to pretend she doesn’t care, that her family isn’t a new pulse point for mary to worry at with her teeth like a disobedient puppy. it’s exceedingly easy, too easy, to imagine she finds the idea of mary killing her father funny. how fucked up is that? (she finds the idea of mary killing for her more than funny, actually. riko doesn’t yet have the words for how she feels about it.)

“you’re probably right,” she says as they step into the elevator. as the doors close, as if she’s actually pondering the idea — “i presume you’re including my stepmother in this hypothetical spree of yours?”