#filiusrex

@filius-rex

He’d left Rachel’s apartment defeated. Sure that any chance of putting things back to how they’d once been was in shambles. Not when he’d hurt her so deeply and there wasn’t even a chance on his end to set things right. It’d weighed on the boy, his nights plagued by a guilt that he couldn’t quite erase, and he knew that moving on from Rachel wasn’t something that’d come easily. It hadn’t the first time around, him turning up at her apartment desperate to win her back attested to that, and it wouldn’t now. Even when his friends were telling him to give up on something that was so clearly a hopeless cause. But despite what his mistake in letting her go told, Felix was committed -- not someone who sought a one-night stand nor even a short-lasted fling. No, when he entered into a relationship it was with the knowledge that he’d give it his all, and even if things seemed beyond repair at the moment that meant he wouldn’t let Rachel down now.

filius-rex reblogged your post “˜found shirtless”:

Rachel is stooped over by her third-floor window, but she straightens immediately when the front door closes behind her with a click.  Her shirt is on the floor, in a crumpled white heap of cotton.  When she turns to gaze at him with hooded eyes, dazed confusion on her face, her bare chest comes to full view.  Although she is young, already it is clear that her body has gone through the customary changes; her breasts have bloomed.  They rest, pert and petite, like soft fruit upon her body.  The nipples are stiff and rosy and begging to be bitten.  It is usually cold in Rachel’s apartment, but these last few days, April has decided to be charitable and has filled the city with warm sun- shine and the smell of spring in the air.

“…”  She’s so dazed, so stunned that her surprise trumps modesty. Her hands stay by her side.  “…Afternoon.”  

        What’s that girl doin’ by the window? She’s shirtless; anybody can see her. He watches Rachel closely, gets a good look at her face, her eyes, and his own green gaze narrows. She looks out of it. Not the same ditziness he’s come to expect from her, but like she’s on something. Unless she just wakes up. Unlikely. It’s evening time, so if anything, she may be retiring early, hence the state of undress. He has a weird feeling about it, despite him being the one showing up under unconventional circumstances.

   Moana steps forward at a leisure gait, his feet quiet on the carpet. Built like a bear, the man has the stealth of a jaguar on the prowl, something which comes as easy to him as breathing now. He stops in front of Rachel, looms over the small girl with a hard expression, displeased. Moana won’t ask questions. Silences reigns for a moment before he continues pass Rachel, down the hall where he knows her bathroom is.