#corazon.

cor wip, from a sketch i started right before heading into the cinema.

@ofinflorescence.

she’s a tactile learner. corazon has been the same, pushy and insistent from before they were arguing about their intersecting missions and further than that when their lips met near crime scenes, covered in blood. before she had known the gentleness of akiko’s soul, she had known the lithe angular lines of their body, something quick and nimble, with deadly precision. she had known the way her hands slid across the graceful planes, and where best their heat resonated when they touched.

akiko looked divine like this, with the both of them twisted in the early morning bedspread, tangled together before the sun reared behind the blackout curtains. cor presses her face happily into akiko’s sternum, quiet intimacy as she thought about the heart beating behind their ribcage, her hands crossing behind akiko’s waist to feel for the divots of their hips, languid in her exploration, and in her devoted understandings. the huntress would momentarily dull the edge of heart-shaped canines, pressing full lips to whatever skin she could reach as she revelled in how they connected, where their skin touched, and if their heartbeats drummed in sync.

corazon’s tail twitched lazily as she slithered up to akiko’s eye level again, the hands at the small of their back making soothing gestures across the skin. cor’s eyes fluttered closed too, but with her senses she didn’t need sight, not to pepper kisses across their collarbone, up the column of their neck. and not to hum gently, lips against lips, fingers sliding into that mess of hair. with every exhale apart, cor’s rumbling purr reverberated through the warming room, making the feathered kisses she left behind almost tingle.

          “   let’s stay like this.   ”

cor nuzzled into akiko’s neck, the dulcet promises in her voice akin to a siren, fingers fiddling with the edge of akiko’s sleep shirt to bring up the hem in suggestion.

( to cor ♡ )

@vessmar.

this wasn’t the first time vesper had asked something like this, every half century or so when the chasm between them seemed as if a small fissure instead, hiding the very cracks that would be their downfall. corazon had never attempted to hide her future endeavours, to tuck in her next travel brochures or save packing to the very last second. she had always made it painfully apparent that she would leave, and that her will to stay was always a waning, ephemeral thing. it had never been spite, or disdain for the idea, or even a lack of budding love that pushed her from the promise of something that was almost solid, almost real and warm, and something to call her home, but the same instinct to not touch the paint before it dried, to not touch a pan before it was too hot, to not hurt herself in her eagerness.

          “   it would change me.   ”   for the worse.

this ramshackle house was on a lease. she knew by nature it was not big enough to house vess’ ambitions, the whispers of inspiration she saw in his small tinkering projects. the entire place was ill fitting, fleeting, much like her own nature. there was not enough room to grow here, even if what was here and now was nice ; being in vesper’s bed with his arms wrapped ‘round her, fingers running soothing patterns over her ribs and stomach. she could get used to this, but not here. cor would not settle for what she considered to be an imperfect fit.

          “   -   but it wouldn’t change you.   ”

and anyone could have taken that the wrong way, and would. part of corazon hoped that vesper would take it the wrong way, that he needed to change who he was at his own core in order to appease her when that wasn’t the case. whatever potential they both had could be squandered by accepting things before they were ready. vess was too unsteady, and cor was too volatile. any attempt to cage her in would result in an implosion, any loving hand too desperate with their grip, a choking vice she’d break her own neck struggling away from. so no, not quite yet. some part of her wished he would stop waiting, while the other half knew that if he didn’t it was never ever meant to be.

such was the tragedy of the right person at the wrong time.

          “   …   and i don’t want to be the reason that you stop changing, vesper.   ”