𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑰𝑪𝑲𝑬𝑫 𝑭𝑳𝑬𝑬. ⁽ ᵃ

𝙸𝚃 𝙸𝚂 𝙰 𝚁𝙰𝚁𝙸𝚃𝚈 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝙷𝙴𝚁 𝙾𝚆𝙽 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝙺 𝚃𝙾 𝙱𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙺 ──────   porcelain pieces scattering at her feet as shock and heartbreak draws her back. A careful step keeps her at a distance from thorns, her hand clasped to the comfort of her own breast, still red and biting with the burn of rejection. Her touch had always been a welcomed thing, considered a blessing to those with grieving hearts and aching bones like her own, she had never thought ― never prepared for the moment it would be unwanted. 

Tears begin their sting, heart and mind at war ― a storm of sense and sensibility as her cheek turns, an attempt to hide the glitter of heartbreak threating to roll down her cheek ―    ❝  Forgive me, I did not  ― I did not mean…  ❞    Lips purse, guilt clambering up her throat ‘til it settles it’s weight betwixt her cords.      ❝  I am sorry…  ❞

Anxiety clawed its way through her like a daemon, shredding that carefully crafted and meticulously placed armour to little pieces like one might a sheet of paper. Antoinetta hated being touched. She didn’t talk about it often, and even a touch as feather-light as Lunafreya’s birthed a panic that made her stomach sink like a stone. She is a killer, and a part Antoinetta wondered if Lunafreya had forgotten that in those little moments of peace and quiet where she assassin had read and the oracle had listened.

        Watches her perform this heinous crime and then leans over a little - scooting closer even. He looks at her plate of pineapples and then up to her, “You know.” He nudges Leah’s elbow with his. “If you’re gonna waste those, you might as well toss them this way.”

         makes hard eye contact with and then - picks up his pizza with pineapples and takes a bite. A big bite for extra measure.

     He rocked their weights together, almost satisfied with his small victory ins holding her body right against his. A playful attempt to trap her within his arms where he was free to brush his chin up right against her face. John could find that he could hold her forever like this, and if he wasn’t able to he would easily sacrifice his last breath for one more moment with her. Yeah it sounds dramatic now but he knew now, and forever, that should the time come for such a life and death situation. He would do everything within his power to make sure the she out lived him, and such affections showed themselves in how he nuzzled into her neck and in the way he reaches for more and more kisses at her chin. Hoping even in her leaving she would indulge him just a little.

      John turns down briefly to nuzzle into her palm, pressing his lips into her skin and inhaling as much as he could of her. Satisfied then only with the lift of is head to take that kiss that he was finally graced with. Seemingly pacified as he returns it and pushes into her with a satisfied little inhale; just for Leah to side step out just as John sinks into her. It never failed to amaze him how quick she is when she truly wanted to be.

       “I always behave.” He counters with the still hold of her hand. Trying his best to keep touching her even as she got farther and farther away. Insistent to try as he reached before he finally had no choice but to release her with the slide of his fingers over hers. “So long as I’ not given a reason to misbehave, who knows I just might just choose to be bad without supervision.”

        He tries to press his brow down as he watches her go; but with the mirth that filled his eyes he knew that the playful pout was as clear as the affection that lined his smile while he watched her go. “Miss you!” He shouted, dramatically, loud enough for her to hear. Then to add a finishing touch he reached for her mind, I said - MISS YOU.

Leah had never imagined that she would leave La Push. It felt like her life was tied to her family there, and the impulsivity of her throwing herself into the bed of his truck a few days had been at the urging of Sue not to let him slip through her fingers. She trusted her mom more than anyone else in the entire world, and her word was something she could trust. She had Charlie, she’d said. She’d be fine. Despite the streets of the city being completely foreign to her, she had found it to feel like a home away from home; her home beat in the chest of the man she walked away from, with a small wave of her hand.

> YEAH, YEAH. I HEARD YOU. STOP HOLLERING SO LOUD.

It did not stop her smiling as she left to meet with John’s sister. Andrea was lovely, pleasant enough and showed her all the important places. Where did the best coffee. Best for a lunch date. Best clothing shop, and it wasn’t until they had walked past a little hole in the wall souvenir shop that she paused. There was a rack laden with little keychains, and the one that caught her eye was of a silver wolf. It reminded her a little of her own, and she thought immediately back to the little stuffed wolf that laid on their bed with its heart shaped nose and friend in the form of a little monkey that giggled when she squeezed it.

The rest of the afternoon went by relatively quickly, but she found that the longer she was away from him the tighter her chest got. She had fun, but the second she shouldered the door to his apartment open, all of that anxiety lifted like a weight off of her shoulders. 

Vince takes his first drink and hums in appreciation. This is a winner. His favorite part about drinking- besides the actual drinking- is how different the same concoction can taste from different hands. There’s a reason he keeps coming back to see Clara, and it’s not just for the conversation.

“You don’t think she’s gonna go corpo, do you? They always find the smart ones, lure them in with promises they won’t keep, at least not in the forms you expect them to. Trust me. I’m an expert on that subject.” Gone are the days of fancy suits and luxury living, true, but his Militech past still haunts him. At this point, all of his old defunct company implants have been removed and replaced. The amount of chrome he’s packing more than speaks to his talents as a merc.

“Look. I can help. Put aside some for college, keep her out of a Corp’s grip. I owe you that much. I’ll never forget the time you hid me when those Acimals goons wanted my head.”

To most that had cast Vince a first glance, they would not think of him as a good person. People this side of the city rarely were, and it felt like a reputation he wanted to hold on to. It poured out of him like water, whether he knew it or not. It was a sweet thing, and Clara already put aside a good portion of her wages to ensure that she would go on to make something of herself.

“I doubt it,” she said with a smile. “Eleanor seems to be leaning more towards fancy books. I can see her already, ten years from now. Typing away at some best-selling novel series and living her life comfortable. I might even get a grandchild or two.”

Not wasting away in some shitty bar where the danger was commonplace enough that the threat of death would always loom over her head. No, Clara wanted her to be comfortable and happy, and to never know the same struggle that she had known at her age.

“And she knows better than that.”

Or so she hoped. 

“No need, I think by the time she hits college age, I will have more than enough for her to go through it comfortably.” If not, odd jobs were always a thing. She took on one or two of those; the less risky ones, anyway.

@copiesofher requested a starter from SOMA for ANNE!

As with any victory, the air around them felt alive with the electricity of the fight and of the tides turned in their favour. No dead men on their side, few injuries and now far more resources taken to improve Grantebridge, be traded to further its wealth or to honour the gods. Soma raised her axe high and cheered with them all as some already brought out barrels of supplies to and others raised their hands in prayer to the gods above. A shouted prayer of her own was quickly given before her axe was put away and she made her way through the crowds to their fledgling drengr.

Grasping Anne’s head with both her hands, Soma pressed their foreheads together for a moment before releasing her and pulling her into a hug. A proud grin never left her lips that entire time.

“Your first victory Anne! Do you feel the vigor rushing through you? Savour that feeling! It never dulls!” She shouts over the chorus of voices, giving the former nun a squeeze. Oh Soma was so incredibly proud of her! Never was Anne on her own, nor unprotected, but they let Anne hold her own and put all of her skills to use. This final test was over.

Anne had never felt more alive. It felt very much like she had spent her first twenty years of life in a stagnating rut, without catching hide nor hair of escape. To have seized life by the balls in a world that cherished their women as meek and willing wives or pious women of the church, was a beautiful thing in and of itself. Under the careful eye of Soma and her men, her new family, she would be keen to add, she had flourished. She liked being in charge of her own life, but even through the thrum of battle that hummed in her veins, she was quick to recognise that none of the blood on her armour and hand axe were hers.

Just as quickly as that high had coursed through her, it was replaced with a panic. She’d killed many on this field; enough that she had lost count and that small, God-fearing part of her, turned her stomach sick.

        She still didn’t know what it was about this woman that had drawn her in – I never know why, I only know who – but there was something about her that had compelled her to offer a sympathetic ear.  Not that she wasn’t prone to sticking her nose where it didn’t belong.  That was how the fun started, wasn’t it?  She offered a smile and a nod, head tilting to acknowledge that she’d follow along.  “Don’t s’pose they’ve got chips or some such, too?  I’m absolutely famished.”   There were few woes that a good basket of chips and vinegar didn’t solve.  Rocky road tended to cover the gaps.   Come to think of it, she couldn’t remember the last time that she’d taken the time to sit down for a proper meal.  “Clara, by the by.” 

Anne couldn’t remember the last time she’d treated herself to some pub grub. There was always the obligatory kebab bought at four in the morning when she was sloppy drunk and staggering home from the local boozer, often eaten while sat on the curb outside of her house because the fumbling of keys was not worth the wait and the risk of her food growing stodgy and cold. A blast from the past, really; a Sunday roast on a Tuesday felt like the perfect thing to chase away the horridness of a soured mood. “Oh, they can do ya one better. They’ve a roast that’ll knock yer socks off. The yorkshire puddings are to die for,” Anne replied with a crooked grin. “Best thing you’ll put in your mouth,  I promise you-!”