Feed the Horde

[Oriena]

He didn’t stop her. Ori wasn’t sure whether or not that surprised her in the moment given he’d prised her from Jensen only hours before. Glass shattered amidst shouts of pain and anger, and she felt the pelt of it, but it was peripheral to her attention. Coldness wrapped Nox’s words; his face was a mask. Tired. She didn’t look around to the challenge of her own careless carnage, because she was only interested in the sport in front of her. Around them the lights flickered and plunged in warning – to any who foolishly lingered, or to Nox for what she might do next – Oriena didn’t even know herself. She was exactly the sort of monster he was pledged to stop. Unrestrained. Discontent. The energy was frenetic inside her, anger undoused, and she didn’t care who she took it out on. The world would burn on the whim of her frustration.

Leave them be. He would have done better to phrase it as a command; push her buttons in return, because the smoulder in her gaze burned to disdain for the hint of begging in his tone. Her grip of him loosened, and she moved to casually shove him away. Only to be crushed by a desperate kiss instead. 

The savagery saved him from rejection, and her reaction was volatile and possessive. Where he pushed she pushed back, not wanting the weakness of his insecurities. She didn’t know any longer if the tang of blood on her tongue was his or hers. Her nails dug like claws into the dark threads of his hair while the other hand thrust under his waistband, because if he was tentative with seeking permission, it never lasted once they were both riled. And they were never gentle with one another. Ori manhandled him backwards, until her back slammed the wall of her booth, and the hand in his hair tightened, pushing his head down.