He’s pulling away again. He does this when there’s little touches, like a brush of knee or her elbow against the worn leather of his sai grips. His voice and his mouth and his eyes are so sharp and she didn’t think beating one of the many worn out bags tucked away in the back of the dojo would’ve dulled them.He doesn’t find her anywhere in the lair when he gets back, but the chain of daisies she’d left on top of one of Leo’s half-soaked Marvel comics makes him grunt.(Maybe he misses her, but he kicks and crushes an old soda can underneath his foot and lets a frown tug harshly at his mouth when he thinks about it.)She’s gone? Good, let her go, then.He goes to sulk in his room and she unfolds herself from the doorway, her abs half-thanking her for allowing her to breathe again. He starts a curse and she swings herself forward and catches him mid-sentence with her mouth on his.The feeling is short lived.She comes crashing down from the doorway and he has half a mind (thankfully) to catch her and straighten her upright, though he’s none too pleased at her and she knows it.She rolls her shoulders in a shrug.It’d be worth him pulling away again.
