キラリ★キラリ

It probably should bother you, but it never really does. He's always so sweet to you, kissing your hand when he greets you, brings you food to share at mealtimes, books he enjoys— he especially loves bringing you flowers, it seems. He seems to hold preference for giving you coreopsis, camapnula, celandine. One night when he dropped in for supper he told you, glancing out the window with a frown.

"Y'know, they say a monster lives in the forest, here."

You laughed. "Don't they just tell kids that?"

"Eh, I don't believe it. But everyone else does. I've never seen anything freaky in the woods."

"… Freakier than you, you mean."

He laughed, nodding as he covered his mouth to finish swallowing the mouthful of food. "Y-yeah. Exactly."

He didn't tell you any more, though, but was still insistent on keeping close to keep you safe when you went out. Again, you don't much mind. He's handsome and affectionate and again, for all his morbid statements and unhinged thoughts, he's just… sweet, in his own way, and he seems to truly like you. Even if there is something… off in his eyes. Sometimes in the dark if you look in the direction of his house, you'll see two red pinpricks watching you.

He doesn't spend every waking moment with you, though— that wouldn't be happening for a while. Perhaps the inciting incident that put it into his head is the argument you suffer in the town square. A merchant that sells various textiles— fabrics and thread and notions for making your own clothing. You're not even sure what started it, and you incorrectly hope that as someone who'd been an outsider to the village till you showed up that he might show you some understanding. But no— your hands shake as he starts shouting at you, calling you a thief and all kinds of other awful names, right in front of everyone else. You apologize, trying to get your shaking hands and teary eyes to work to count out the coins to settle the difference. You really, really, don't mean to cause any trouble. No one comes to your rescue.

Except for Lohen.

He shows up out of nowhere, telling the merchant to back off. When he doesn't, Lohen punches him so hard he's out cold before he hits the ground. You don't even process it before his hands are cupping your cheeks, looking you over. "He didn't hurt you, right?" His eyes are wild, and for the first time you see them have a hint of light in them.

"N-no, no, I'm okay… just… It was just a lot."

He hugs you tight, so tight you feel your ribs protest, but it brings you back to the moment. The merchant slowly picks himself up, spitting a broken tooth and a bit of blood on the ground. You miss how Lohen's eyes widen and his tongue roves over his own lips at the sight. Especially since his eyes narrow when he watches the merchant stand up again, his hand pressing to the growing bruise on his cheek. "Don't mess with her ever again, you hear me? You won't get away with it just because she's new."

He walks you home after that, arm around you as he glares around just in case someone dares to try anything. But no— everything is quiet. He's insistent on staying for a while until you calm back down, and when he finally does leave you pull him in for a soft kiss.

He pulls back abruptly, eyes going wide and his face going red as he stammers, one hand covering his mouth. Even so, you can just barely see his lips curling into a smile behind his fingers. Lohen slowly lets his hand drop— he insists that he'd not done all of that to earn your affection, but… he'd hardly turn it away. He does really like you, after all. He kisses you that time, and you're shocked to find his lips tasted of iron.

Things are peaceful for a few days. The merchant even apologizes to you, telling you that he'd forgive the difference and would keep a better eye on the price tags and change given from here on. Lohen seems to be in even higher spirits, walking around with your hand clasped in his, or his arm around your shoulders or waist, his lips never far from your cheek or your forehead or your ear. He seems so insistent on taking things slow despite being at your home even more than before— you were surprised when he told you he'd never been in love before.

"Nobody ever really caught my interest," he said with a bit of a mischievous smile, twirling his knife around his fingers. As scary as the blade looked with curved spikes and brutal edges, you only ever see him use it to cut flowers that he then weaves into your hair (now dame's violet or eyebright, most often) or to carve little animals out of pieces of wood. You've amassed a tiny army of them on the windowsill in your kitchen. You once commented on how cute a particular one was, and you noticed he's since made more of that same critter than any other.

Well, that animal other than bunnies. He likes carving rabbits quite a bit. Or maybe hares? He doesn't seem to mind what you call them, but he's happy you like them so much. Each rabbit is wildly different from the last, not like iterations of other animals. When he carves two cats, for example, it's clearly the same feline in a different pose— perhaps based off the one that loves to nap on the roof of your porch and soak up sunbeams. But each rabbit is plainly different, with different shapes in their ears, positionings of their tails, fur lengths, eyes and noses…. When you pointed the differences out, he'd been delighted, telling you he had, indeed, been making different bunnies each time. And now, your army has an entire squadron of little wooden bunnies.

"They help me keep an eye on you," he says with a warm smile, kissing your forehead.

You let yourself fall into step with the peaceful times, not fearing confrontation in the town square nor the monster in the woods. Lohen told you not to fret on both fronts. You trust him to keep you safe.

… And then, they find the body.

You awake to the sound of screams from outside. You'd hurried out, still in your nightdress, racing down the road only to find a corpse lying in the town square. It hadn't been thrown into the fountain but it's definitely close, with splatters of blood going between it and the body as if it had tried desperately to reach the water before falling cold and still. It's wrapped in bloody fabric and tufts of fluffy fur, like shed hair. A small chorus of gasps washes through the gathered people, which turn to screams as someone finally flips the bloodied body over to reveal that their face is completely unrecognizable, as if it had been eaten up by a hundred little wild beasts with sharp teeth. The bites are too big to be a rat or a mouse, but too small to even have been a cat. The teeth don't seem match dogs or cats, either. The village head does a headcount, and you felt your stomach drop when they find the victim to be the merchant that you'd fought with the other day. The others all take steps away from you… except Lohen, who sidles through the crowd to stand closer and put his arm protectively around you.

"Eh, good riddance," Lohen says once you're back home.

"Don't say that! S-someone's dead, Lohen!"

"Yeah, but he made you cry." He shrugs, like that's all he needed to say. You hate to admit that you feel an odd happiness alongside the sinking feeling at his words. Really, you should have known he'd say something to such an effect, but… "If he's that quick to fly off the handle over a mistake, who knows what else he'd do?"

He fixes you cocoa, and gently strokes your hair as you drink it. Even as morbid as he could be, you can't help but feel a bit amazed how pleased he seems with the turn of events. And not long after that, the village head shows up, his face grave as Lohen opens the door.

It's then that you discover just what had happened.

The merchant had grown frustrated once more with how you'd, apparently, embarrassed him, and had gone after you. The easier target, you aren't afraid to admit that. You hadn't been the one to knock him out cold with a glancing blow, after all. And so the man had snuck to your house in the dead of night and… well, his now-widow refused to say just what he planned to do, but from the look on the village head's face you could only make a handful of guesses that it would not have been pretty.

Lohen pulls you closer, wrapping both arms around you protectively as you start to shake.

Oddly— or perhaps not oddly at all, people are kind to you again after that. They blame the murder on the monster, and though you still endure the occasional comment about the incident, even the merchant's former friends are kind. Lohen, though, is still insistent that he keep an eye on you. One night you ask if he'd rather just stay with you, and he seems so relieved you asked.

You never slept better in your life. You heard him speaking gently to you as he strokes your hair, and your eyelids and limbs feel so heavy… but when you wake up so refreshed, does it really matter?

Things become calm again, and you adjust to this new normal. Lohen is even clingier and more doting than before, but sometimes he goes on long walks alone. And while you never once wake up alone in the middle of the night, you have an odd feeling that he doesn't stay in your bed together the whole time. He never admits to it, so you stopped pressing. He must have his reasons, right?

And then another body turns up. The same way, like they'd been mauled by a thousand vicious pairs of sharp teeth, their face gone in a mess of ragged flesh and blood. Again, the village head does a count and finds it was one of the farmers this time. It almost seems random, and so Lohen's nonchalance doesn't put you on edge quite the same way as it had before. "It's for the best," he says with a shrug, cuddling you into his chest. "He was always looking at you kinda creepy. But… don't worry. No one will ever hurt you as long as I'm here."

Perhaps you should have figured it out by now. Perhaps it's conscious choice that you don't suspect him— you don't want to, after all. He's shown his sweet side to you, and it's precious. He's strong, and a little bloodthirsty, and has morbid thoughts, but… There is simply no way Lohen could be connected. Lohen, who holds your hand and kisses each knuckle with reverence like he's counting a rosary, who kisses your lips with so much love and so much want all at once that it makes you feel like the most beautiful creature on the planet, that once showed you a secret path into a clearing in the forest to pick flowers from, who sneezed when you blew dandelions into his face and then laughed even as he sneezed again and again, who signs up for patrols with aplomb to protect you (even if he only ever showed up with other peoples' blood on him, never his own), who sits and watches you sleep with your head in his lap, gently stroking your hair like a beloved little pet. Lohen, who dotes on you, who tends to your needs and whims gladly, who greets you with a warm smile every morning, who still brings you flowers picked from the fields and the clearing and anywhere else (now often primrose and rhodendron, and once an edelweiss he gave you with pride), who still whittles you cute little figurines with his knife, who always holds you so close you feel almost like he wanted to crawl into you and live in your chest instead…

But one morning, you wake up and he's gone. That never happened before, at least not without ample warning. But normally you'd still wake up only after he returned and had curled back up next to you, humming contentedly and pressing kisses to the side of your head. Worry catches on your heart like brambles on your clothes and you throw back the covers, wrapping yourself in your coat and hopping around to fasten your boots on your feet properly. You look around outside and find a puddle of blood on the back doorstep.

It's dry, only still barely damp in the middle, congealed into a disgusting gelatinous clot there that makes you feel sick just looking at it. The rust-colored splashes trail down into the forest. The thought that the monster might have gotten him rushes through your head, but you still race headlong into the woods, following the trail.

Fear rages in your heart, pounding faster than a rabbit's feet as it flees the jaws of a wolf. You race past the clearing, and when you gaze into the still-dark woods in the morning mists, in the shadows where the rays of sunlight don't illuminate, countless red circles point back at you.

You near a break in the trees— a creek that Lohen sometimes wandered over to when he wanted time to think alone, the rare times he thought that being truly idle was acceptable. He'd taken you there once, a long while ago, and the two of you had floated down the stream a ways, laughing as you bumped gently into the rocks only a few dozen yards down.

You aren't laughing anymore. You finally see him, wading in the water, facing away from you, and splattered with blood.

You aren't sure how you knew, but like every time before, you know it isn't his.

You feel those thousands of pinpricks of crimson light pointing on you still, even if they never show on your skin.

Lohen turns slowly, a smile on his lips that reaches his eyes, his pale skin a shock as you see the water dyed scarlet around his legs, bared from the pants leg being rolled up to his thigh. His shirt is somehow still a pristine white, like the blood flowed off of him like rain off a duck's back. All over the ground between you are scraps of cloth in colors he decidedly is not wearing, all with sickening deep red splotches. You step on something soft and wet and a splash of red shows on the grass beneath your boot. You decide not to lift your foot to inspect it. Similar globs, so wine-red they look black, lie scattered around the ground, like two wild beasts fought tooth and nail for whatever produced them.

Lohen holds his knife loosely, not a drop of blood on it, yet you can only assume from his hands still stained that it must have been dyed red not long ago.

A bouquet of flowers— begonia, hawksbeard, coltsfoot, mallow, nightshade— is tucked into the waistband of his pants, held firmly in place around his lithe frame by a belt you bought him not long ago— water beads on its carefully-waxed surface.

"Oh, good morning, love. I hope I didn't wake you."

You get close enough— you didn't realize you were moving still, but you were close enough to notice unfamiliar freckles on his cheeks. No, not freckles. Blood that had long ago dried.

"I just thought I'd handle taking out the trash for you, that's all."

She walked over awkwardly, her tail puffed up and curled neatly around her thigh. He resisted the urge to try to unfurl it, like he used to do whenever he caught her looking anxious.

"… So… uh, nervous?" She asked, not looking him in the eye. She set her drink down but kept the coaster on top.

"Kinda."

"How long will you guys be gone?"

"Varka's got no clue. Could be a few months. Could be a couple years. Apparently, this one's the big one, whatever that means."

"Okay, but what does the big one mean?" She groaned, as if reading his mind. "To you. I know he didn't tell you."

"Could mean anything. Maybe he found a giant store of firewater somewhere."

She snickered. A grin tugged at his lips again, only for it to fall as the cold of awkwardness settled back in.

"… Wanna see who can—"

"Wanna see who can drink the whole thing the fastest?" She asked, heaving a sigh. He nodded. "Please."

She removed the coaster from the glass and they both brought their drinks to their lips.

It definitely wasn't bad. But it wasn't that he liked drinking. Losing control wasn't his thing, it never had been.

… One more reason he'd let her give the cold shoulder this time and nod forced his way right back to her side. He held onto everything with a white-knuckled grip. Every bit of power, every bit of control, every bit of momentum. An arrow fired with too much force would shatter if it hit anything, and he'd been moving at terminal velocity for too long.

But when she was close, he felt the momentum slowing. His heart took over his brain and body, his focus lasered in on her, his fingers loosened and his legs slowed to keep pace with her. He'd drown in her warmth and softness if he let himself.

He wanted to. He wanted to the way he wanted to run right out that door and all the way back to his bunk and pretend it had been just yet another fucking nightmare, like he wanted to run out into the field and bash in some monsters' brains until he felt like a person again. Like he'd probably do both later in the night.

But he didn't want to want to. And that was why her being so close, even a bit, was a danger.

She won, though. Her glass was empty first. He scowled, eyeing it like it had been at fault and not all manner of other factors. After all, if even he wanted to dull the edges of the tension between them, she would too. She felt everything so harshly.

His inoculations meant that he probably wouldn't be feeling the alcohol for a while yet. But it didn't matter.

He could pretend. He was good at that.

He caught Diluc's eye and the redhead walked over, pouring them both another round. Lohen muttered a thank you before the former knight walked back to the bar to get pestered by Varka and Kaeya.

"… Congratulations."

"What, you didn't even try." Heike rolled her eyes, leaning back in her chair. He put the coaster over the top for her.

"No. On… on the Vision." He gestured to the icy blue gemstone hanging off the waistband of her skirt. "While you were in Inazuma, right?"

"Yeah. Cryo."

"That's… that's…" He sighed. "That's cool."

"Thanks."

A moment of awkward silence before she groaned and grabbed her glass again, pulling the coaster off and taking a long sip. "… Shitty time for you guys to leave."

"Hm?" He tilted his head.

"Now I gotta wait to go anywhere I haven't already been. Or I'll have this shit to look forward to every time I stop in somewhere."

Despite himself, Lohen laughed. "Oh, c'mon. We're adults, let's act like it." He cleared his throat, putting on his most boring, flat-toned voice. "How has work been?"

She tried to hold back a laugh… and failed. She sputtered before laughing outright, only for a snort to join in and leave her red-faced… which made him laugh.

"Ugh, sh-shut up! You didn't hear anything!"

"Oh, c'mon, it's cute when you do that, dummy. Anybody would hear that and fall for you."

… Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit—

"Yeah, you're just mister loverboy, huh? Been breaking hearts left and right now that you've got that captain's uniform?"

"Vice captain," he corrected, feeling his cheeks flushing just a bit. "Whaaat, you think it looks that good on me?"

"Eh, you looked even better in that adventuring outfit. Roguish charm, or whatever the hell." She took another sip. "But yeah. You… you look nice. I… It suits you well."

"Thank you." He took a longer drink, praying it would start kicking in soon. He did not want to have to roofie himself to get through this conversation. "And no. The only hearts I've been breaking are those of the dumbasses that think ranged means they can slack off."

She snickered again.

"What about you, huh?" He leaned a little closer, a smirk back on his lips. "Bet you had… what, five boyfriends in Inazuma? That why you left in such a hurry?"

"Hey, what kind of person do you think I am?" She looked genuinely annoyed… and now he was thinking shit shit shit shit shit for an entirely different reason. "No. I haven't dated anyone."

"Why not?"

"… Didn't feel right."

His heart tightened up in his chest. She always had a way of making it hard to breathe.

"What about you?" She tilted her head, like she didn't have any stock in the situation. Envy washed over him, just a bit.

"Eh, I guess I've got my eye on someone, but they're… let's just say… she's a liiiiiittle bit dense."

"Pff, from you? Who'd be dense enough to miss your signals?"

His eye twitched. You, you dummy.

He drained his glass.

"I missed you."

Once again he though he was drunk enough to mishear or even outright hallucinate. But no, she was sitting there wistfully dragging her fingertip around the lip of her glass.

"You can say sorry whenever you want to, y'know." He sighed.

"Ohh, that's rich coming from you." Her eyes narrowed. "Barbatos forbid I want someone I love to live."

"Barbatos forbid I decide what I want for myself for fucking once."

"Istaroth forbid," Woah, shit. She's going there. "I tell you that you're doing something stupid. I-I can't just stand there and watch you get yourself killed like a fucking—"

"—Like a rabbit in a trap?"

"… Like a rabbit in a trap."

She drained her glass and immediately waved Diluc over for another round.

Neither of them wanted to look up, much less at each other. He glared into his drink, hoping that he'd feel the fuzziness starting to take hold.

Nope. Of course not.

Both of them then nearly leapt out of their seats as a cheer erupted from the bar.

"… No way. He actually did it." The words left his lips before he could stop himself. Varka had only been pining over Yelena for ages now, and now they'd finally kissed. He doubted that would put an actual end to the annoyingly ever-present tension between the two of them… and admittedly, it made a twinge of worry settle in Lohen's stomach. Was Varka that confident now was the right time to do that? Or was the Grand Master wanting to ensure he had no regrets…?

Heike was giggling— fuck, he'd forgotten how much he loved that sound. His eyes softened without him meaning to as he looked at her, clearly overjoyed for her friend.

Venti was on his fourth drink at least but summoned up the strength to stand tall and call for the other bards to join him, such a moment was surely worthy of celebration with a song—

Everyone knew the song by heart, and while the first few lines were off-key and shaky as people raised their voices together, by the third the words coalesced into something that actually registered as proper song that settled in alongside that twinge of worry—

Tomorrow the sword calls me away, tomorrow requires courage.

He put the coaster back over the top of her glass, and she looked at him in confusion.

"Let's dance."

"Wh— You want to dance?" She looked incredulous— thankfully it seemed their butting heads could be temporarily forgotten. "What, gonna stomp on my feet so I think of you every time I take a step?"

"Wow, that's kinda romantic, y'know." He laughed. "Not the plan, but hey."

Heike rolled her eyes, but he stood up and offered his hand. She took it, letting him pull her up to stand. Then he wrapped his arms around her, but let her make the first few steps to start.

Darling, come and dance with me under the moon.

"Ow— Th-that's gotta be a new record." She laughed, both of them glancing down at the fresh scuff-mark on the toe of her boot where he'd stubbed his. Almost all the other patrons were facing away to sing along, many dancing together— it didn't matter. Or maybe it did.

"I missed you, too," he said, perhaps too softly. "I… I missed you so much."

He bit back the urge to say everything else. I never want this moment to end. I don't want you to go. I don't want to say goodbye. I'll drag you to Sumeru and Natlan and Snezhnaya and anywhere and everywhere else with me. I'll crawl into your chest and fall asleep next to your beating heart. You're mine, you're mine, you're mine. I'm yours. I've always been yours. I always will be yours. I love you, I love you, I love you.

For that beautiful moment in time, they were invisible to the rest of the world, and the rest of the world was invisible to them. But he felt it slipping through his fingers like smoke, and when he tried to hold tighter he felt it slipping away faster still.

"… Lohe." Her voice was soft too, too soft— he smelt the alcohol on her breath. Why was that the moment he felt the warmth in his veins, felt the world go fuzzy at the edges? Was this a dream?

… Okay, no, it wasn't, ow, she stepped on his toes that time. She stuttered an apology, but he could only laugh.

"What is it, kitty?"

"I… I'll tell you what," she asked, her eyes narrowed, looking every bit a stray kitten furious to be petted and cooed at after being coaxed close with bits of fish yet still soaking up every bit of attention. "You come back from… wherever the fuck…"

"Eloquent."

"Shut up." He closed his mouth, trying not to laugh. "If you make it back alive… I'll apologize. I-I'll say I was wrong. But… but if you don't…"

Lohen grinned. "I'll just have to haunt you forever."

"You already do."

When had she gotten so close?

"I-is… is that a fair deal?" Her breath ghosted over his lips.

Darling, come and dance with me one final dance.

"Deal."

He'd allow one little indulgence. One quick, short kiss. But then her hand was on the back of his head forcing him to linger.

He felt his grip loosen. The world slowed down. He was drowning.

He didn't mind.

He still felt so warm when he woke the next morning.

It seemed the kiss had broken down the last walls of awkwardness. He doubted she'd remember any of it, but for a little while things felt like they'd been before. She'd curled up with him on a bench, abandoning the table they'd been at before, going back and forth and talking like nothing had changed. And then Heike had dozed off against his chest and Yelena had gone to take her home for him, a grin on her face.

He hadn't had a nightmare. He couldn't recall the last time that had happened.

He got out of bed slowly, dressing quickly as ever. His hand lingered as he put in his earring.

If she still had the other, he figured, it meant he hadn't been forgotten. That they hadn't drifted too far, that he could still reach out blindly in the dark and eventually, she'd take his hand again.

The Expeditionary Team convened, then marched. As they passed Springvale, he lingered, the houses lit by the rising sun. A little black cat sat in Heike's window, soaking up the early morning rays.

He didn't expect to see her. She was probably going to wake up with a headache and curse him and drinking and hide under her blankets for the next few hours. Lohen let himself imagine her huddling up with Diona to plot how to dismantle the wine industry in his absence. A smile tugged slightly at his lips.

And then he was moving again, pulling to the front even ahead of Varka—

"Woah, hey, where are you running off to?!" The older man laughed, picking up his own pace to catch up. "We've got a lot of ground to cover, you shouldn't wear yourself out."

You're in rare form today.

Lohen has been keeping you on your toes for months now, surprise sparring sessions hardly out of the ordinary these days. He'd made sure you kept up on your training, every single day, on top of it; after all, to be a knight, you have to be able to back it up with skills, right?

(Nevermind the fact that he didn't train anyone else nearly as hard. You had half a mind to suspect he was training you to be his own personal plaything; someone who could keep up with him, keep him entertained.)

Despite the countless sparring sessions against the vice captain himself (it has to be in the hundreds now), you're ashamed to admit... you haven't won once. Not even when he's given himself a handicap. Not when he quite literally has one hand tied behind his back, not when he had a blindfold on that one time, certainly not when he offered to only use hand to hand while you kept your sword (you'd been cocky that day, too; and it'd been a new record for how quickly he'd shoved your face in the dirt.)

That being said... Again. You're in rare form today. Well rested, well fed, already warmed up, and you're lucky enough that Lohen is only allowing himself to use one arm, the other restrained in case his reflexes try to kick in a little too hard. It's a hand to hand session, which doesn't always work in your favor, but practice truly makes perfect, doesn't it?

At least, that's what you're thinking as you get the vice captain of the 5th company pinned down for the first time in your entire career.

You have no earthly fucking idea of how you managed it, but you've got him under you, his stomach pressed to the ground, his fighting arm now forced with the other behind his back. Your knee presses harshly into his back to keep him down as you hold him by the wrist, twisting his arm, further, further, until you can see (and feel) his entire body tense up at the pain.

You laugh in disbelief, adrenaline racing through your veins as you manage to keep him restrained even through his last few thrashes, kicks he tries to blindly throw your way from below. You distantly think about how much of a shame it is that no one else is at the training grounds so late; will anyone even believe you??

He turns his face to the side, looking up at you with a feral grin, eyes alight, and snarling as he tries one final time to throw you off.

You remember the nasty kick you'd thrown into his ribs just days ago, enough to knock the wind out of him (along with something primal between a whine and a laugh), and it's pure instinct guiding you now as your hand shoots to his side, fingers finding where you assume the bruise will be and pressing.

All of the fight leaves him in one heavy shudder wracking his body. Sliding your knees to either side of his body now that he's pinned in place, you lean your weight more heavily onto the arm you've got twisted behind his back, and it punches a surprised, strained little noise out of Lohen. When you glance up, you see that his eyes are squeezed shut, teeth digging into his bottom lip harshly, pain visible on his face. His breathing is heavy underneath you.

"You gonna tap??" you pant, feeling the burn in your muscles; you already know that if you relent now, he'll find a way to flip this on you.

He makes a rough, frustrated noise, experimentally tugging against your hold, body still tense. He's expecting you to twist his arm further, give him a reason to tap with a little more dignity.

Instead, you press down on the bruise on his side again, and you rub.

The effect is instantaneous. You feel Lohen jolt beneath you, shaking a bit... and a filthy, unmistakable moan pours out of him.

You pause for a moment, feeling your face heat up. You let your gaze flit to his face again, and the sight goes straight between your legs; there's a flush high on his cheeks, and his bottom lip is bleeding a little from how hard he's been biting it. His eyes are half-lidded, but instead of his usual smug grin, he looks... a little embarrassed, wow. But... you don't pull your hand away from the bruise, nor do you consider releasing his arm. After all, you can't just... let him win, can you?

"Well?" you prod, trying to give him enough of a break to speak up.

Lohen's voice sounds uncharacteristically broken as he looks up at you from the corner of his eye, his voice cracking. "Not a chance— hah, fuck, fuck, wait-"

You start moving your thumb against his ribs again, clearly right on the mora about where the bruise was. Your lips part in awe as you see his eyes roll back in his skull, brows knitting together as the rest of him shivers viciously.

"I can do this all day, you know," you breathe out, entranced by this side of Lohen you've accidentally dragged out.

"Fucking...! Shit, just wait until I get my hands on- ah no fuck please wait wait-"

You briefly think about hearing him out, but considering he sounds awfully close to threatening you... you instead twist his arm, just an extra centimeter or two, to add onto the torment you're already putting him through.

Lohen's voice is shaky and desperate and frantic. "Wait wait wait please stop I'm gonna cum-"

Well. That gets your attention.

...You know it's a bad idea. You know he's going to make you pay for it a million times over. And yet... a sly smile tugs on your lips as you briefly let off the pressure on his side. "...Are you tapping?"

His brows stay furrowed and he shoots you a glare, made much less efficient by how deeply red his face has gone, how glossy his eyes look from holding back overwhelmed tears. "Fff- fuck you, I'm not tapping ah fuck fuck fuck no-"

Before he can even finish you press your thumb straight back onto the bruise, rubbing harsh, slow circles into it, and you watch through a haze of fascinated arousal as he comes apart under you. Under your hips, you can feel his own grinding desperately into the ground, and his whole body shudders violently at the mix of unbearable pain and pleasure. The noises that pour from his pretty, bitten lips are nothing you ever thought you'd hear from Lohen, voice cracking and shaking as he gasps and moans and curses through it. You even think he's drooling.

And then, the broken moans melt into quiet whimpers. As he starts to come down, panting heavily, you remove your hand from his ribs and slowly untwist his free arm, mindful to not move it too quickly. He lets out a pained little grunt, but otherwise allows you to do what you will. You assume it's simply because he's left boneless after such a sudden intense orgasm.

...You quickly realize your mistake as you feel his body twist where you've got him no longer pinned between your legs, his movements lightning fast before your world spins, and your back hits the ground.

Before you can even process what's going on, you're pinned underneath the vice captain with his forearm against your throat, and... and his clothed dick, cum soaking through the fabric of his pants, pressed straight against your core.

You squirm, trying to find a way out of this, your face quickly getting hot. "Wait, Lohen, hang on, I-"

He laughs in your face.