07-21-2018, 02:52 PM
He asked then banished the question. She didn't want to tell him anyway, nor to follow that knotted thread back to other topics. Her registration. Promises to her family. Her damn father. If she'd been wrong about Evelyn, she'd have courted the potential dissolution of a budding alliance between nations. All because she searched for something lost. But she was hardly going to tell him that either. He had enough pieces for a picture if he truly wished to know what she'd done. He wouldn't hear it from her though.
Her words bounced off like rain on parched earth; he absorbed little, refused to acknowledge that man she saw. She hadn't sought to flatter him though. Honestly, she would have been disappointed if it'd lit something like pride in his expression. His reaction was so infuriatingly him that her lips curved instead, a flicker of amusement beginning to bring more life back to her gaze. She let him brush it off. But she'd sit with cupped hands protecting that small flame of his soul until her own last breath.
Natalie was content with the silence that followed. It wasn't quite peace, but it was something quiet; something that felt momentarily like a balance restored. In that simple, precious moment, she realised how much she'd needed the respite. Moscow drained her. The deals she made for small victories, the tangled politics, the integrity of a name she could never live up to. Nor, more importantly, wanted to. Not to mention the unresolved issue of her father, banished to dozens of ignored phonecalls on a wallet abandoned in her apartment.
She'd told Jay offhandedly how much she missed Africa, but it wasn't so much the place itself as the freedom she had discovered there. The people. It ached her chest so hard it felt like grief, which she supposed was not so far from the truth. She couldn't go back; there was nothing to go back to. But though Africa's horrors still stole into her dreams, when she slept at all, its memories also offered kinder ghosts. She fell into the moment without realising the shift in herself. How new light sparked on the roguish edge of his grin.
"I'm not the one who--"
but the tease about the little orange kitten curled asleep in the hollow of his throat softened into nothing when he leaned closer. Everything blurred to a single moment, and though he caught her off guard she didn't wait for capture; breathless, she moved to meet his kiss. He tasted like the ocean. Like darkness and starlight, and the impulsive rush of falling. She'd had every intention of being smarter than this, but the recklessness of the plunge was in her blood. Or maybe it was only that now she didn't fall alone.
The shift of her skirts felt like the ripple of waves as her hand shifted to find the space inside his collar, seeking the heat of skin. Musician's fingers curved against the nape of his neck, a caress that sparked a shiver of desire down the length of her arm. Her lips betrayed all the impossible things she wouldn't tell him with words. How much she'd missed him, when she had no right to miss him at all. The palpable relief at finding him alive. The threads of an impossible connection, too strong to be denied, too unbelievable to be real. That banked brushfire rose to an intensity a kiss was never going to sate.
Until a bolt of pain almost toppled the balance she'd pushed onto tiptoe. Her breath caught in surprise against his mouth.
"Ah. Foot. Shit."
Not five minutes ago he'd suggested she accept the offer of healing, and he'd not even known about the wound on her foot. Another thing she hadn't planned to share. Natalie winced back the pain until the throbbing subsided, her head pressed against his shoulder. He was still so close and her heart was still pounding against his. She wanted him. Temptation wasn't the word. But rational thought had time to penetrate now; they ought to be looking for Jensen. An ear-pierce dangled abandoned, too. How long until his absence was noted?
"Free advice. Exploded alleyways should not be traversed in bare feet."
The sting lessened, but she could feel the warmth of fresh blood inside her shoe. Great. He probably wouldn't thank her for bringing up that night again either. The memory was painful for her for entirely different reasons, but she wasn't the sort to pull punches, even with herself. She smirked, pale gaze upturned to capture his. Her palm flattened against his chest as she tested her weight, finding it more or less tolerable. And for a moment she seriously considered tugging him back into that room anyway; a thrill she wouldn't have hesitated from but for one thing.
Jay's sister's face hovered, small and pale, and her memory flashed the desperation of his phonecall on the balcony. She wouldn't allow him the space for regret. And knowing he might have cause to look back and regret being with her was a scar she didn't think could ever heal. Not for either of them.
Composure began to settle, but a wicked gleam lingered; the heat wasn't so easily swept away, just contained. Breath still seemed too large for her lungs, skin flushed, the gold of her hair framing her like a halo, dishevelled by roaming fingertips. She brushed her thumb against the swell of his lip, where the blush from her lipstick had marked him.
Her words bounced off like rain on parched earth; he absorbed little, refused to acknowledge that man she saw. She hadn't sought to flatter him though. Honestly, she would have been disappointed if it'd lit something like pride in his expression. His reaction was so infuriatingly him that her lips curved instead, a flicker of amusement beginning to bring more life back to her gaze. She let him brush it off. But she'd sit with cupped hands protecting that small flame of his soul until her own last breath.
Natalie was content with the silence that followed. It wasn't quite peace, but it was something quiet; something that felt momentarily like a balance restored. In that simple, precious moment, she realised how much she'd needed the respite. Moscow drained her. The deals she made for small victories, the tangled politics, the integrity of a name she could never live up to. Nor, more importantly, wanted to. Not to mention the unresolved issue of her father, banished to dozens of ignored phonecalls on a wallet abandoned in her apartment.
She'd told Jay offhandedly how much she missed Africa, but it wasn't so much the place itself as the freedom she had discovered there. The people. It ached her chest so hard it felt like grief, which she supposed was not so far from the truth. She couldn't go back; there was nothing to go back to. But though Africa's horrors still stole into her dreams, when she slept at all, its memories also offered kinder ghosts. She fell into the moment without realising the shift in herself. How new light sparked on the roguish edge of his grin.
"I'm not the one who--"
but the tease about the little orange kitten curled asleep in the hollow of his throat softened into nothing when he leaned closer. Everything blurred to a single moment, and though he caught her off guard she didn't wait for capture; breathless, she moved to meet his kiss. He tasted like the ocean. Like darkness and starlight, and the impulsive rush of falling. She'd had every intention of being smarter than this, but the recklessness of the plunge was in her blood. Or maybe it was only that now she didn't fall alone.
The shift of her skirts felt like the ripple of waves as her hand shifted to find the space inside his collar, seeking the heat of skin. Musician's fingers curved against the nape of his neck, a caress that sparked a shiver of desire down the length of her arm. Her lips betrayed all the impossible things she wouldn't tell him with words. How much she'd missed him, when she had no right to miss him at all. The palpable relief at finding him alive. The threads of an impossible connection, too strong to be denied, too unbelievable to be real. That banked brushfire rose to an intensity a kiss was never going to sate.
Until a bolt of pain almost toppled the balance she'd pushed onto tiptoe. Her breath caught in surprise against his mouth.
"Ah. Foot. Shit."
Not five minutes ago he'd suggested she accept the offer of healing, and he'd not even known about the wound on her foot. Another thing she hadn't planned to share. Natalie winced back the pain until the throbbing subsided, her head pressed against his shoulder. He was still so close and her heart was still pounding against his. She wanted him. Temptation wasn't the word. But rational thought had time to penetrate now; they ought to be looking for Jensen. An ear-pierce dangled abandoned, too. How long until his absence was noted?
"Free advice. Exploded alleyways should not be traversed in bare feet."
The sting lessened, but she could feel the warmth of fresh blood inside her shoe. Great. He probably wouldn't thank her for bringing up that night again either. The memory was painful for her for entirely different reasons, but she wasn't the sort to pull punches, even with herself. She smirked, pale gaze upturned to capture his. Her palm flattened against his chest as she tested her weight, finding it more or less tolerable. And for a moment she seriously considered tugging him back into that room anyway; a thrill she wouldn't have hesitated from but for one thing.
Jay's sister's face hovered, small and pale, and her memory flashed the desperation of his phonecall on the balcony. She wouldn't allow him the space for regret. And knowing he might have cause to look back and regret being with her was a scar she didn't think could ever heal. Not for either of them.
Composure began to settle, but a wicked gleam lingered; the heat wasn't so easily swept away, just contained. Breath still seemed too large for her lungs, skin flushed, the gold of her hair framing her like a halo, dishevelled by roaming fingertips. She brushed her thumb against the swell of his lip, where the blush from her lipstick had marked him.