[ he fumbles with the cigarette, putting it between his lips - first on his own, then helplessly in her grip. don't flinch? it's easier said than done. just about everything makes him flinch, after all-
and then she leans in, inches away from him, and he couldn't twitch even if he wanted to.
she smells like machinery, some part of him notes. anna smells like radios and engines and cigarettes, and her clothes have stains and her hair is tired and running low on color despite itself. she's nothing like neptune's carefully manicured, intimidating beauty. she's nothing like jupiter's soft laugh and hungry looks and fruity shampoo. she smells, looks, sounds like danger. like a sharpened sword.
it's the most profoundly beautiful thing he's ever seen. she's the most profoundly beautiful thing he's ever seen. he thinks he might have forgotten how to breathe, between the way his heart spikes and the way his guts coil and his two eyes focus dead on anna's one, wide and cyan and utterly defenseless. the cigarette sparks to life, and anna pulls away, and for a second it's all he can do to not protest - "wait," or "stop," or "please, look at me like that for just a moment longer."
and then anna says that next line, and that's what finally gets the red flush to cross his cheeks. he's never heard someone just... say it like that. he's definitely never heard a woman say it, in that voice, with a cigarette she lit still between his lips. he thinks... no, scratch that, the way he shifts in his seat and tries to discreetly check his robe are all the proof he needs. he wants to hear that again, to do that again, to see it again.
but for right now, he does exactly what she said. he reaches up to steady it with his fingers, and he wraps those soft lips around it, and he sucks-
-and almost immediately blows out a cloud of smoke in a coughing fit. ]
no subject
and then she leans in, inches away from him, and he couldn't twitch even if he wanted to.
she smells like machinery, some part of him notes. anna smells like radios and engines and cigarettes, and her clothes have stains and her hair is tired and running low on color despite itself. she's nothing like neptune's carefully manicured, intimidating beauty. she's nothing like jupiter's soft laugh and hungry looks and fruity shampoo. she smells, looks, sounds like danger. like a sharpened sword.
it's the most profoundly beautiful thing he's ever seen. she's the most profoundly beautiful thing he's ever seen. he thinks he might have forgotten how to breathe, between the way his heart spikes and the way his guts coil and his two eyes focus dead on anna's one, wide and cyan and utterly defenseless. the cigarette sparks to life, and anna pulls away, and for a second it's all he can do to not protest - "wait," or "stop," or "please, look at me like that for just a moment longer."
and then anna says that next line, and that's what finally gets the red flush to cross his cheeks. he's never heard someone just... say it like that. he's definitely never heard a woman say it, in that voice, with a cigarette she lit still between his lips. he thinks... no, scratch that, the way he shifts in his seat and tries to discreetly check his robe are all the proof he needs. he wants to hear that again, to do that again, to see it again.
but for right now, he does exactly what she said. he reaches up to steady it with his fingers, and he wraps those soft lips around it, and he sucks-
-and almost immediately blows out a cloud of smoke in a coughing fit. ]