❝ Violence is elegance ❞

the first slap had taken surprised him , making it so he had no time to stifle the grunt that escaped him. blissful pain that made the darkin’s form react visibly , stiffening despite the tremble in his limbs - yet rhaast had not exhaled a breath when the gauntlet roughly hit his backside again , this time making the carmine one’s back arche which only served to further press his behind into the other’s hand ; his core felt like it was burning , heavy breaths moved his chest.

When hordes charge into my direction, they all become my single Challenger. Hearts singing in unison, speaking of wrath, of rage and hopes.

“Warmth soothes the mind, but you don’t have to break my flesh.”

Despite her actions, the darkin displayed indifference with his cold gaze fixating the multiple brown locks that composed Vana’s curly hair. Those slim arms wrapped easily around his slender form, dragging him into hesitation.

Both arms remained motionless, breathing peacefully in what the hug lasted.

“I don’t understand the meaning of this.”

Aatrox said serenely considering the closeness they had between, feeling the woman’s subtle warmth and perfume. The gesture, as simple as endearing, had no place to happen for his reasoning.

At his words Vana pulled back slightly, arms still wrapped around him as she gazed at Aatrox. Searching his expression she found he appeared rather… unimpressed. Not even the slightest beginnings of a smile.

“I mean, it’s just a gesture of affection. It just… feels nice. There’s no deeper meaning to it…” She paused, humming, gazing up at that unimpressed visage. “Try hugging me back this time. Don’t just stand there. It’s better if you hug back when I hug you.”

With that said, a bare limb wrapped around Vana’s waist, pulling her even closer against himself for a brief moment, bending his back intentionally to emphasize his exertion in the task, sensing the hardened skin from his chest tingle when her hair made contact with stiffened pectorals.

That head pressing against gurgling, corrupted core, meanwhile the clawed gauntlet rested on the hollow from Vana’s back. After all, she seemed to enjoy his dark silhouette and Aatrox couldn't help but let his crimson miasma flow, embracing the two into a luminous red curtain that spoke of power, whispering voices from countless wars for Vana’s ears.

And he whispered:

Crimson eyes opened widely at witnessed gesture, nonetheless, Aatrox stood quiet and immovable.

Both arms remained motionless, breathing peacefully in what the hug lasted.

“I don’t understand the meaning of this.”