Euphoric Enterprises

As soon as she steps into the room; it changes. the shift is apparent and prominent as every inch of the room became sickeningly heavy. It was both intoxicating and exhausting. But that came with her, with the very means she held herself to such standard; where you felt like every sense in the room had shifted and all the focus was on her. A woman whose strength was sharper than her stare and tongue; Blood finds his gaze shifting to not her prowl but the next words that slip from her tongue. His gaze lingers, the kind that tells you that the words have slipped beneath the mask and gently caress the hatred that twists in angular skin. Every harsh line of his jaw and features indicated the emotions that he held with such firm grips. "So what of it?" Comes his reply, they lack emotions to paint them as every man would easily reveal his thoughts with a simple flick of his tongue. He was a killer, his emotions were tightly wound and hidden in a part of him that would remain touchable, unreachable. The coolness was so easy to fall into, but they flickered as her presence cast on him like a shadow.

But it was too late, too long for something for him to feel the gravitational pull. It was like the remaining strings that connected them had frayed as every beckon and ask was forcibly removed.

Not that their relationship had always held a label.

Perhaps he'd asked for too much when he'd fallen from Wonderland and into her arms.

"Or are you trying to gain a rise out of me?" He asks, his words carefully procured as he closes the gap between the two. His palm finds hers, digits pressing the surface of her own, their hands meet at her side; violet hues darken in the same manner of possession. Though he doubts that she'd be ever willing to be tamed by another man? "Dangle the carrot before me in jest?" His tongue tsks in disapproval, fingers threading into hers and his arm extends behind him, pulling her arm and her not against him. The motion would be deemed as harsh but to them, this was another game of dance of predators. "Unless, you're planning the end of your days with me, darling."

There was a distortion, somewhere, in the lining of reality. The bringers of dreams, those silver eyes of hers. Her face suddenly softened, reverted to that of a younger self, between the time of child and "adult" in her birth-times. She's shorter, though not too short. Just tall enough to pour the warm liquid into his chosen container. "Need a chat?"

The male continued to stare, dark orbs lingering on her features with mixed curiousity but not enough to stir true intrigue at the moment. His chin jutted only momentarily, before the familiarity of their setting breathed life. 

Though he was not Hatta, he was in his realm once more. This only irked destruction in the depths of his chest. The crippling reminder of the war that still lingered. Lexie included. 

The man stares, not to the woman before him but at the tea pot. His inability to comprehend the situation had left nothing more than a bitter taste, one that was debatable as that of the remaining dregs left at the bottom of it’s contents. 

It wasn’t long before the library came into view. It was a decent sized space filled with books old and new, and the eccentric variety of chairs mirrored the shop owner’s peculiar charm. Terra’s mouth revealed a toothy smile; the room reminded her so much of Hatta. “Impressive,” the witch remarked all the while marvelling at the collection of books neatly staked on their respective shelves. “How many of these have you read?” She wondered out loud, her question partially rhetorical in nature whereas the other half consisted of genuine curiosity. Though not an avid reader, every now and then she enjoyed spending an evening lounging on her sofa, book in hand and a warm cup of hot chocolate at her side. Moments such as those epitomised comfort and repose in a fast-paced world. They were difficult to come by and as such, whenever they did appear, they were easily missed.

Terra gently squeezed Hatta’s hand and, with a light tug, gestured him to follow as she picked out a contemporary armchair with a floral print design reminiscent of the late 60s and early 70s. “All that’s left is to choose a book” With a quiet, pensive hum, Terra extended her free hand towards the bookcases and retrieved a random paperback from its shelf with her magic. It levitated across the room and found Terra’s waiting hand. “Heroides by Ovid” she read the title, fingers gently skimming over the cover page depicting the stone sculpture of a woman. Given the title of the book, the sculpture was either Roman or Greek, though it was impossible for Terra to tell the difference due to her lack of knowledge regarding art history.

”You will keep me company as well, I hope?” Fingertips idly stroked the top of his hand whilst smiling at him. Sometimes her thumb would drift downwards and draw indistinguishable patterns along the inside of his wrist; feathery touches that lasted a moment or two before entwining their fingers once more.

His head shifted slightly, his eyes rolling about in his head as though it were a set of marbles lost in the cavity where his brain was to be. There was a sense of joy, a pinch of excitement and bottled inside the man in an attempt to keep his position steady. Hatta, which was a known fact, of being easily excitable by the mere fact that he could do anything in a matter of seconds which effected his mood dramatically. “Why thank you.” He hummed, his head held high and his footsteps light as they stepped in some direction that he too was not entirely aware of. “I try to read them, each of them when they get sent my way.” His hand released hers as she would soon explore the vicinity. “Sometimes I go through far many books to realize that I fell down a void. My favourite -- have always been the encyclopedias. How strange that they all contain the same information and all vary in the text of the viewer.” He mused, his eyes traveling now to the wall of encyclopedias. His hands shifting to the pocket of his khaki’s and settling on the surface of his lap. 

Terra’s hand never loosened on his, even when his own grasp had to allow her to wander. Instead, he followed her almost soundlessly as she wandered. Though he soon became distracted, alerted by the book that appeared now within Terra’s outstretched hand. His lips curved into an amused smile. His head tipped at her question, a single nod. “Naturally. I would never have it any other way.” He added with a low chuckle. 

Eventually once Terra had settled in her seat, he too found the seat near her. The seat itself was much more modern in comparison, with the exception that it appeared worn in by an individual who chose that seat. Now Hatta typically sat in all the seats and held no preference. Except, one other individual had a preference to where He sat. That chair, being the one he sat at that very moment. 

His hands tapped against the surface of the armrest, his fingertips silent against the upholstery as they tapped in a silent rhythm. Orbs darkening another shade of deep purple and nearing black. 

“Terra.”

Curious eyes scrutinized the unnatural head of mint hair amidst casual chatter with cursory glances. A momentary lull in conversation permitted a subtle look or two before returning their attention to the warm cup of tea at their table; a small distraction in an otherwise uneventful matinee. Terra recognised the intent behind such gazes: they were meant to judge and ostracise those they deemed unconventional. Regardless of the world, wariness of the Other was a ubiquitous behavioural trait within societies or communities of people, Condemnatory stares had all but lost their significance to her, however. She had grown accustomed to feelings of alienation because of her heritage and magical proclivities. There was no escaping her birthright, and so Terra merely strengthened her resistances until it could do no harm.

People were always going to look, always going to judge. Still, having her hair out like this had the undesired effect of being noticeable which, evidently, went against her efforts at maintaining a low profile. The point was to blend in with the crowd, not attract unnecessary attention from the people native to this world. She’d have to dye her hair again.

For the time being, the young woman looked forward to spending her day in the company of a person most dear to her heart. Hatta’s exuberance was at once compelling and contagious; its bright, sunrise colours bled into the muted hues of her even-tempered twilight, creating a shade that sat comfortably somewhere in between. The sight of him alone was enough to bring about a smile on her lips; an instinctual reaction conveying the depth of her feelings that were now beginning to emerge, like tulips in bloom bursting through a dense blanket of snow. “Mmh, orange and cinnamon…I’m tempted”. Truth be told she didn’t need much convincing. Hot chocolate was a wonderful beverage she had the pleasure of discovering in the time spent living in this world, and as such it was one of her favourite indulgences. “I’d love to try it”. Perhaps a little sprinkle of nutmeg would make it all the more delicious. She adored the spicy but autumnal fragrance of nutmeg combined with bittersweetness of dark chocolate.

She didn’t notice the ways in which she’d lean closer to him as they spoke. Perhaps they were born of a desire for closeness – to feel his familiar warmth, the comfort of his presence. Assertive as Terra may be regarding her personal convictions and thoughts, communicating affection was not so straight-forward or simple. More often than not it manifested in subconscious gestures for her mind struggled to keep up with her heart’s whims.

”Would it be better if I came back later? I’d hate to disturb you while you are busy”. The café appeared quaint what with the few patrons already present at their tables but, depending on the time of day, that could easily change at the drop of a hat. “Or I could wait until you are done for the day. I have nothing else planned for the day”. She looked at some of the empty tables available, then returned her gaze to Hatta. Terra didn’t mind waiting. They’d both waited for moments like these for years. What’s a couple of hours more?

Eyes curved into crescents of amusement; a smile crafted on his face to express his evident happiness on the matter. Terra’s smiles were often reciprocated by his own full gummy mouth features. He was extremely excitable and her existence was similar to fireworks exploding in the surface of his mind. 

Rocking on the back of his heels briefly, he grasped his chin with two of his fingers, as if to contemplate a thought. He was cheeky, especially when his brows were raised and he jested. “It’s a new experiment since I have recently been intrigued by this American chocolate.” He released his chin and continued to describe it. “It’s chocolate with faint traces of orange. Except... you are to take the chocolate in the content of its foil and smash it against a hard surface.” He described this motion by taking a fist and pressing it firmly against the palm of his hand. 

The realization of her answer had brought some sense of clarity. “Perfect, once we get you settled in, I’ll make one for you.”

Hatta, however, shook his head to her suggestion. His smile still remained plastered on his features and he certainly was not going to allow her to simply slip away solely because he appeared busy. “Not at all.” He added with a small wave of his hand. “The other staff can always assist. They’d probably be happier if I wasn’t hovering.” He added with an airy chuckle. Hatta was not one to hover or disturb patrons, but his overly friendly demeanor and helpfulness was often misinterpreted. “I can show you the new books in the library.” He added, a finger was raised in the air to point out the idea. Literally.

                     𝔸 𝕟𝕖𝕨 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕓𝕖𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕤 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 @intestato​

━━   &&             Nothing felt so delicious than enjoying a warm piece of heart , freshly taken out from a now lifeless body. The muscle tender and juicy ; a euphoria explosion of thick metallic taste made him smile contently. Asher noticed the others gaze on him – ; being the polite gentleman he’s always been , his bloody hand extended out to the other revealing the red muscle , offering the man a piece. “normally I don’t share. However , lucky you I’m in a good mood.”

 — [ * ] Drabble Checklist ~ accepting.

Blood was, in the least bit, so disapproving of the entire event. The event was not of his choosing and nor was it one that he had truly accepted. He was in the gala, suited in Hatta’s attire, posing as the lunatic that chose to continue with the charade of normalcy when he himself was the most deranged mentality of them all. Fortunately, the mask adorned on his features allowed some aspect of his disgust and annoyance to be hidden. With the exception of the slight curve of his tiers indicating his disinterest. 

The jacket was left open, the tie loose and his hands in his pockets. Dark ebony locks lay upon his head in a slight mess. It was evident that being restricted without being in his armor and in customary clothes was never truly what he was comfortable in. Or could ever be comfortable in. 

Pausing, his eyes were distracted by the devil mint haired woman who now stood before him. He could feel the compulsive need for Hatta to reach out and grasp her hands. Yet he was stubborn and refused for something as foolish as caving into the muscle memory to do something as ridiculous as this. He hated this and hated how his foolish body longed to stand next to her. It was a pitty Hatta was in control of the body most of the time otherwise he would not have found himself in such a predicament. 

Orbs rolled to the side, flickering his attention away and his ears only picking up on the sound of her lips grazing against flesh as words escaped from her lips. He could hear her pausing for air, the words loosely raised in a question. 

Would you like to dance.... Blood? 

He could hear the smile in her voice; the way her voice raised an octave at the end of her ridiculous question. “No.” He responded, disgruntled. Arms raised to cross over his chest stubbornly to make a statement. His gaze was avoidant. She’d somehow wormed her charm passed his annoyance charade. 

“Fine.” He exhaled exasperated and under his breath. He’d taken her hand in his pulled her to the dance floor. “Only one.”

 — [ * ] Drabble Checklist ~ accepting.

Ebony orbs appeared slight distrust, brows knitted together as the sense of uneasiness crept onto the surface of his ivory skin. Blood’s instincts had taken over, caught the other male before he had crossed the street. The act was strange, especially as he reacted and grabbed the other before the car had driven by. 

Blood had briefly foresaw the image of the car as it drove passed them, speeding down the road. If he had not caught him, the stranger would have been received more injuries than that of the embedded bruising of his grip. The fable released the male, realising that his inhuman grip was proving to be more unnecessary than needed be now that the car had passed them. 

LOADING SAVED GAME…@intestato

Her days of recovery, as expected, had their highs and lows. Crippling migraines left Terra more or less incapacitated and homebound, She did not leave the comfortable silence of her apartment for the bustle of daily life proved overwhelming. Beyond the walls of her abode Terra could still hear the clamour of urban living coupled with its distinct aromas, though the potency of her sensory overload diminished as the days passed. When her head felt a little too heavy, she laid in bed until sleep found her. Despite this, Terra only slept for a couple of hours at a given time: her slumber was dreamless and shallow, and oftentimes punctuated with periods of fidgeting. It was the oddest thing; the woman’s exhaustion was hardly a figment of her imagination and, yet, her body refused to rest.

Muscles and bones coped with the aches of fatigue but her mind brimmed with countless thoughts. It wouldn’t stop, even as she rested. And so Terra would wander her home aimlessly in search of something to do, something to keep her distracted long enough for tiredness to take hold. In the end she wound up napping on the sofa, blanket partially draped over the lower half of her body whereas the rest of it was strewn across the floor, with the television left on whatever channel appeared mildly interesting. This became routine over the course of the following days.

Though Terra recovered from her magic induced hangover, her spirit felt as restless as it did when she left the café nearly a week ago. It stirred and expanded outwards, no longer confined to its vessel of flesh and bone. How it danced in the cool fall breeze, brushing against the boundless blue skies before joining the leaves in their final act of the season; a graceful fall full of bright colours.

Oh yes, she revisited those memories more times than she cared to admit. A flurry of intense emotions culminating into a kiss; Terra recalled the soft plumpness of his lips, a scent of earl grey, the sweetness of strawberry jam…It was too much. Dizzying, even. The woman was ill-equipped to handle such a situation due to its uniqueness. What was she supposed to do? Terra was at a loss.

Garbed in a loose, orange knitted jumper, black trousers and a pair of aviator boots, Terra set out for her usual haunt: Tea for Thee. Her restlessness worsened the closer she got to her destination, and so she tried in vain to calm the nervous excitement gripping her senses. Even the winds had noticed the sorceress’ uncharacteristic agitation. It teased her in hushed, playful whispers carried along the breeze, occasionally pushing her along with a slightly stronger burst of wind or skewing her hat slightly to the side to reveal a lock or two of green hair. The half-esper huffed in annoyance at the wind’s antics and hurriedly tucked her stray hair back into the hat to keep it well hidden.

Finally she arrived at the café. She lingered in front of the entrance a short while, hoping to calm her nerves and steady the frantic beating of her heart before entering. Greeted by a familiar chime that signaled the arrival of patrons, Terra quietly stepped inside and removed her hat, revealing long strands of wavy mint hair reaching the midway point of her back. “Hatta?” The halfling called out loud enough for him to hear if he was near. She eagerly waited for him to appear.

There was something about the silence of the room that had trickled into his consciousness. It acted as a flare for those things that he kept hidden behind walls that were built not for the safety of others but for himself. His silence was evident. He was at war with himself and he could feel it as the air of his other consciousness lurked upon the edges. Running a single palm through the length of his pant waist, he paused to stop at his pocket. He felt the absence of the pocket watch; a small smile fitted along the length of his features in his contentedness. It was a subtle reminder that Terra had it. And wherever she kept it, was what erupted the sense of content within him. 

Violet hues were darkened as they were during such times of his internal conflicts; he struggled with Blood’s need to appear in existence. The struggle was something similar to that of the clouds in the weather; the storm simply needed to pass through. He knew he would be fine in some recourse of his actions, but the question really was when and where? Hatta inhaled a small breath through his nostrils, his fingertips settling on the spine of the book in his hand as he ushered it back onto the shelf. 

Eventually, he’d returned to the lobby, where the rest of the cafe stood. Today he was a bit more casual; a black turtle neck and dark denim slacks to boot. His appearance reflected on that of his moods, and thus his temperament settled on a sense of ambiguity, neutrals were evident. Not that most noticed, his sense of ambiguity was often brought upon his internal conflict. 

The cafe was steady with a few patrons sitting at the tables. He smiled when he made eye contact, visiting them if they had a request before he would shuffle off to another part of the store to address another concern or more. Hatta was content nonetheless; his confession had brought a great deal of weight off his shoulders. His black hair was now chocolate brown, shorter and an evident part along the side of his head and flared out at the bottom of his ears and neck. But he kept those feelings tied together; his personality was avoidant and so his conflict came here. 

Try as she may to imagine butterflies with buttered wings and flowers gossiping with the breeze, whatever her mind conjured almost certainly bore little resemblance to the curious beings mentioned by Hatta. His homeland struck her as the kind of place that could not be contained within or defined by the figurative boundaries of the imagination. It, too, was alive; it sung the melodies of nonsense and danced to the erratic tempo of madness, brimming with colours that have yet to come into existence. “I believe you”. As always, there wasn’t a hint of hesitation in her voice. “Full of wonder and strangeness as you are, it makes sense that you come from a place equally as odd and fantastical”. Eyelids carried the increasing weight of her fatigue, and so she permitted herself a moment to close her eyes and bask in a shared moment of tranquillity.

Happiness. Warmth. Comfort. A sea of emotions crashed onto the shores of her conscious, inundating it with sensations not entirely familiar. They held names she did not know, and affected her in ways that were still shrouded in mystery. There was still so much Terra had yet to understand concerning the depth and intensity of her own emotions. Even her heart spoke in a language that sometimes sounded foreign but, with a careful ear and a little patience, she eventually came to understand the gist of what it tried to say. “Mmh…” she hummed quietly in acknowledgement, head instinctively leaning closer to his touch as he brushed a strand or two of her hair. A simple gesture of affection yet one that nonetheless felt quite lovely. It surprised her.

”To travel the world with the wind at my back, through my hair, completely free…” A lifetime later and Terra finally tasted freedom. No longer bound by the tyrannical empire, nor shackled by the burdens of the past, the woman could look towards the future with hope and anticipation. No fear. No pain. There was only the promise of tomorrow. “That sounds like quite the adventure”. She opened her eyes to find Hatta gazing at her the way he often did now that she took note of it. A smile then graced her lips. “But I am happy being here with you, at your side”. Quiet laughter spilled from parted lips as their brows touched, prompting her to then quickly peck the tip of his nose in response before pulling away.

Her eyes bore into his for a long moment without interruption. That is until the world outside beckoned her as it often did. “I should get some rest”, she stated as-a-matter-of-factly, though her words lacked any meaningful conviction. “But I admit that there’s a part of me that does not want to leave…” It was silly; this fear of not being able to come back after leaving the café as if crossing a threshold into another dimension. It was silly because there was little Terra could do: as a warrior chosen by Cosmos, it was her duty to participate in the endless war between chaos and balance. She had to answer the Goddess’ call to arms.

Too weighty a thing to contemplate at this point in time. It was pointless to fret.

Instead she tucked her green hair behind her ear and lingered a while longer. Just a little bit longer.

“Will you be here when I return?”

A soft chuckle slipped from the base of his throat in amusement to her commentary. His head tipped lightly to one side as it always did when he grew curious. His brows raised slightly  and a single brow quirked to suggest his pondering to her idea. “Perhaps you should fall down the rabbit hole, as Alice did.” He mused, his features relaxed and so did he. 

Hatta had a sense that the woman infront of him, no matter how much she would try that day, was fatigued beyond measure. The transformation between herself and the Other would only bring exhaustion. That he was sure. Though his former self would tend to riot in the waking hours of the night, the exhaustion would hit him too at such times. It was another reason why familiar lavender locks were ebony strands. Exhaustion, it was a concept which dried the person. to the bone and the soul needed to rest once again. He wouldn’t say anything, not yet anyway. 

There was a fire in his chest that grew, crackling with mirth as it enjoyed it’s sweet release. Feelings, these feelings, which he had kept so securely all those years only unraveled with every inch she grew closer to him and every smile she produced in his direction. These feelings which he had kept wound with thoughts of dismissal had never produced such light. So he? He kept those ideas, images and desires deep in the back of his mind. A locker safe, trapped with chains upon it’s cavity. He couldn’t, not again. Never again, he told himself. Yet here he was, back to where he said he would never open that box again. 

Crimson flecks appeared upon his ivory skin, embarrassment clouding his features as she caught him. Literally mesmerised by every word and sound heard; was this a dream too? How he dared not to let it go... “You’re sweeter than honey suckle, I’m sure you know that.” He teased.  He dared not break her gaze; those eyes which held years of untold stories and history that did not compare to his own. But he’d discover soon enough, he would make sure of it. They both would as they agreed to be open. 

“Always.”

And a smile found his lips again as he raised to his feet. His hand still was clasped upon hers as he stood next to her. “Good things must come to an end, but to look forward to the next day? I do, Terra. I have.” 

Naturally he’d walk her out of his cafe, another kiss perhaps. Another exchange of smiles, of course. She’d find him again. 

questionnaire !

Tagged by: @east--moon​

Tagging: @esperiums, @misterharington,@ofkngs, @aidonaea @leeyjin (& anyone else who sees this on their dashboard)

1 ) WHAT DOES YOUR MUSE SMELL LIKE ?  Hatta smells like tea, specifically earl grey and the essence of the tea is almost embedded into his skin. However there are traces of the scent of lavender upon his clothes and his hair. At times he may smell like other teas, other spices and certainly other foods. But he is always coated with the familiar scent of earl grey.

Blood smells like death -- specifically traces of iron and the smell of a recent downpour of rain. The scent is very fresh and yet almost hinders on a question of whether he has killed. However, if you move just close enough to touch him, you could smell the soft scent of early grey in his aroma. 

2 ) HOW OFTEN DOES YOUR MUSE BATHE / SHOWER ?  ANY HABITS ?  The two shower often. Once in the morning and typically once at night on a daily basis. Depending on how often they’ve been outside or in ‘control.’ It’s safe to say that the two personas do not favour each other and use this as an excuse to stay clean. Hatta is very about his appearance and takes great care, in ironing his clothes, and shining his accessories. This is often done after he has showered. Blood does not have any. 

3 ) DOES YOUR MUSE HAVE ANY TATTOOS OR PIERCINGS ?  The body has four piercings. Two on his ear lobe on his left ear while there is one on his ear lobe of his right ear, and one just on the cartilage. Hatta may occasionally adorn multiple earrings on one ear, but they are generally cuffs which grasp the length of his cartilage.  

As a result of Blood’s initial allegiance to the Red Queen, upon his forearm is a large burnt scar of what was once a binding outline of a single heart. Once the Queen had exiled him, the mark was burned and resulted in a large disfigured burn. 

Because of this, Hatta has the same mark upon his forearm which is often ‘attempted’ to be hidden by the sleeve of his shirts. Hatta does not understand why he has the mark, nonetheless. 

4 ) ANY BODY MOVEMENT QUIRKS ( EX : LEG SHAKING ) ? When they are both sitting and are not in a neutral state, their leg shake. Typically it is the right leg that will bounce on his toes in a repetitive motion. Hatta often clenches his hands and unclenches them, in a repetitive fashion during moments of anxiety. He often plays with his hands or the rings on his fingers. He is never without a ring to twist when waiting.  

5 ) WHAT DO THEY SLEEP IN ?  Truthfully it depends on the weather. When Hatta sleeps, he prefers sleeping in a pair of shorts (boxer briefs or regular pyjama shorts) and a t-shirt. The warmer it gets, the more layers he wears. Blood usually sleeps in whatever he’s wearing as it does not bother him. 

6 ) WHAT’S THEIR FAVORITE PIECE OF CLOTHING ?  Neither have a true favourite piece of clothing. 

7 ) WHAT DO THEY DO WHEN THEY WAKE UP ?  Hatta’s favourite thing, is if you guessed it, is tea. Truthfully, his favourite thing had been to check his mail (e-mail and snail) for a certain letter from a certain someone before continuing with the rest of his routine for the day. Blood typically looks for something to eat. 

8 ) HOW DO THEY SLEEP ?  POSITION ?   Hatta is a person that can literally sleep anywhere once he is comfortable. Between him and Blood, the mortal body is exhausted. There are cases where he will stand and fall asleep. 

Blood is less reluctant to sleep. However, when he is in his bed (rarely), he sleeps on his side; favouring the left side more. 

9 ) WHAT DO THEIR HANDS FEEL LIKE ?  Hatta has very cold hands. His limbs take a bit longer to warm up in the process. His hands are also very soft and smooth; they house no callouses along the surface. 

Terra squeezed Hatta’s hand the second her fingers brushed against his skin. The contact was made brief by his withdrawal but proved nonetheless comforting. She was glad to be sitting: her body, though weakened by fatigue, felt increasingly like a raw nerve made vulnerable to surrounding stimuli. From within the café Terra could hear the mechanical roaring of vehicles caught in traffic a few blocks away, the indistinct chatter of students walking home together from school, and the stray cat rummaging through rubbish bins in the back of a restaurant in a hunt for edible scraps. And though Hatta had left her side, Terra could still smell him as if he were near. An aroma of macaroons, orange peels and earl grey wafted to her nose and aroused her senses further. It hadn’t occurred to the woman ‘til now how the scent of something bittersweet permeated the space in its entirety. Traces of him were everywhere.

The sensation wasn’t unlike a hangover. Or coming down from a high. Either way, whether magical in nature or not, neither experience was particularly pleasant. A period of adjustment would be needed to return to normal – or something resembling it. Expending substantial amounts of magic in a short amount of time typically engendered a backlash, and so the woman expected a day or two of nursing magically-induced migraines as a consequence of her actions. Of course, the pains of a headache were nothing compared to the disastrous repercussions of what could have been a sizable discharge of the esper’s power in a moment of blind fury. She would happily take the headache over destruction of property amongst other things.

The tray of finger food presented to her was a sight to behold. The woman eagerly reached for one of the almond croissants as well as part of what appeared to be a cucumber sandwich, then promptly took a bite out of each until nothing remained. Terra let out a quiet hum of satisfaction as she ate, effectively silencing the rumblings of her hungry stomach, before taking another croissant for good measure. The glass of orange juice did not last; she downed it in a matter of seconds like a woman who had wandered the scorching desert of days.

After a short while she finally ended her spree of devouring everything in sight and wiped the corners of her mouth with a napkin. In hindsight, she felt a tad embarrassed by her behaviour but eating made her feel a bit better. “No, I’m fine,” she reassured him with a smile, though it soon faded once she began thinking of what had just happened. Her embarrassment gave way to an expression mirroring concern. “It was…intense. It must have been a lot for you to handle as well”. Somewhere beneath her words was an I’m sorry though she kept it to herself out of fear it would educe unnecessary sadness or regret.

The right words would not come to her, so she settled into a familiar silence that enabled her to convey thought and feeling in another way. There didn’t always have to be an exchange of words, right? Her hand reached out to his, fingers interlocking, as she moved close enough to him to have her forehead gently press against his own. She looked at him not with the piercing gaze of a beast but with a softness Hatta had come to know and recognise throughout their time together. All she wanted right now was to be close to him. To hold him.

”My dear Monsieur Jang…What would I do without you?” she remarked with a laugh colored with affection and a sense of wonderment.He was still here. They were still here. That is all that mattered to her.

There was a sense of relief that was found emitting from Hatta's shoulders. He was tense as he was concerned by Terra's well being. She was stressed and obviously exhausted from the exchange that occurred earlier. He was silent through her process, keeping his attention focused on here eating. Though he had to stifle a chuckle to her appearance. Suddenly composure and an air of politeness were thrown out the window. He, however, understood, to some level, the extent of her exhaustion. It was almost in such cases in the morning when he felt Blood had gone on an adventure of his own, leaving the body exhausted and rugged in the process. 

Hatta continued his silence until Terra’s execution of her napkin resulted in his comprehension of her snack intake. Hatta was ready to resume the position of retrieving more snacks but Terra spoke and he was rightfully glued to his seat. To Terra’s suggestion, Hatta shook his head to dismiss the very idea. “Would you believe me if I had told you that I came from a world that butterflies have buttered toast for wings, and flowers that gossiped with the breeze?” There was that familiar smile that hinted along his features once again. Wonderland had its fair share of oddities that many of the other countries in the Homelands did not experience. But every country was different based on its nature, he was simply lucky to live in Wonderland of all places. Or have a whole area dedicated for him, with the Queen’s blessing nonetheless.

Once she was close to him, his eyes came to a momentary close as his forehead settled upon Terra’s. Her slender digits were held firmly in his grasp. He had moved his form close to her own, his knee slightly touching her own. The touch was brief, barely grazing the surface with his pants but just enough to spark excitement along the length of his spine and feel a terrible amount of excitement linger in his chest. Truth be told, he was terribly excited and overjoyed even amidst his concern. If he had an actual heart, it would beat with strong excitement in his chest. It would be so loud, that she could probably hear it too. These were times when he was content that she could not hear the beats of his heart. 

“I am sure you’d be fine.” He mused, his eyes flickering to her own. Hatta had paused just briefly to brush the green strands of her hair with his free hand. This same hand rested its thumb against the surface of her jaw joint and wrapped his fingers upon the back of her neck. “You’d travel this world with your head held high, a smile on your face and this world at your fingertips.  Perhaps you’d find yourself at Tea for Thee, sitting right where you are with a large cup of ordinary tea and find yourself bored.” His smile grew into a boyish grin. “But I am sure the tea would not be as good, so there is that fact.” 

          THE RABBIT BOWED FOR THE PRESENTED TEA, her curls cascading down her blouse in the process ( and gods forbid, almost into the tea! ). so rarely did she get treated to such simple things, which only enhanced her gratitude when offered the chance.  ❛  —— it smells wonderful.  ❜  little could enchant her more than the aromatic leaves of nature, pressed to perfection and in true tradition. there was something comforting yet oddly alluring about the place, or perhaps, the host itself; for each passing second, she became more and more convinced about there being a certain celestial interference.  ❛  say, is it your favorite?  ❜ peeking up at her company, wide eyes suggested genuine interest among the primal need to understand.

@intestato // sc.