#hemorage

    ❝  ya know i can’t do that !         --- my dick’s too BIG ; i’d just embarrass you all ! ❞

    a laugh herself & she brings a hand up to sit atop his head , lighting patting it .  ❝  & whats wrong with payin’ ?   ya get to hang out with me , dontcha ?   i see this as a WIN on yer part .  ❞

               𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦,  𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬.  this life takes its toll upon the both of them,  perhaps more him than herself,  he,  who is only mortal,  entangled in a life much larger than his would ever be and lost on its rotting,  brittle brambles that continue to tighten their chokehold around him as they crawl into the threshold of death’s embrace.  she will always have forever,  his forever is now.

               𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭,  𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬.  fluorescent,  neon lights decorate buildings and their signs hanging from windows and above their doors.  they flash brightly,  a distant beauty,  but it is a dangerous sea that will quickly swarm you,  engulf you,  and swallow you whole into the heart of its tempest.  some are never able to swim to safety,  while others are sputtered and spit out as a shell of who they once were,  broken bones and twisted sinew,  dead or alive.  ahri is a huntress,  a predator whose charm and allure is as fatal as the claws that curl at her fingertips  —  she has found her way in this world,  and she is surviving.  she thrives.

razor  -  sharp,  yet her claws are almost delicate as they trace the length of his arm in an absentminded stroke,  lost in her sea of thoughts.  tethered by a thinning,  fraying,  rope,  one forceful movement will cause it to snap.  ahri softly hums a melodic tune,  tapping tenderly against the back of his hand.  nails press firmly,  just enough to draw his attention,  but they never sink into his flesh.  she would never hurt him.

               𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐟𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐜𝐡𝐨 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞.  nina’s eyes flicker,  catching in the shadows of the light as she averts her gaze in the abyss of her heavy,  entrenching thoughts.  his question is a scorching open flame that burns the delicate skin of her palm when she hovers too close.  it is a question that she rolls back and forth over her tongue,  slow and deliberate in careful consideration.  does all evil not deserve death  ?  once,  before,  perhaps she would have said yes in a heartbeat without faltering,  without pause for thought or breath,  that yes,  all evil is evil,  that all evil should be put to rest,  even if that means finality in death.  now . . . nina is still unsure if she knows better than she did before,  but she has seen the evils of the world,  its monsters,  every demon that lurks within the darkened,  tar  -  stained pits of each soul’s heart,  even her own.  the world is not so black and white as she once believed it to be,  but then again,  she never knew of the evils that walked amongst mankind,  not as intimately as she had come to see.  there is a grey line,  a fine line that toes the edge of inevitability and cause and effect,  the battles between nature and nurture.  even despite the evil that dwells within him,  solitude is not his to bask in,  to drown in.

               𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐭,  𝐰𝐮𝐱𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐫,  feet planted comfortably flat against the floorboards.  he raises an arm and a long,  spindly finger lifts as he winds a lock of silken,  inky locks around it.  silence persists in his stare,  as he peers at the hair so tightly wound around his finger as if it is the most interesting thing he has laid eyes on.  it’s iron hot,  wangji’s stare.  deep.  piercing.  it is ten kilometers long,  calm and level,  criticizing,  yet scalding all the same.  it is a stare wuxian is avoiding at all costs,  keeping his eyes focused on anything but the man,  his beloved,  before him.