╱ my dog is terminal so i’ve been spending time away from here to spend time with her and take care of her. popping in to let y’all know i’m not ignoring anyone, life is just lifing. be back eventually ❤️
I LOVE YOU AS A FIST LOVES THE BROKEN RIB, AS THE LUNGS LOVE THE CHASE, AS THE FINGER AND THE NAIL LOVE THE GOUGE AND TEAR. I LOVE YOU AS THE TEETH LOVE THE TENDON, AND THE TENDON THE BRUISE, I LOVE YOU AS ADRENALINE LOVES THE POUNDING IN YOUR EARS.
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shuddering breath ﹠ the ache of a longing lain dormant for nearly three decades. he was right about fire———every touch causing flames to lick ever—higher, leaving little choice but to sink into its delicious agony. can’t »
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he can’t help how his breathe hitches. body shuddering, gripping the edge of the counter like it’s a lifeline to some semblance of reality. that last thread of restraint being pulled with such ease.
lips against his jaw and it’s his final undoing. “you have—we have.” voice—
« help but smile when his confession reaches her. hasn’t it been clear since the moment the red string of fate tugged her across his store’s threshold?
“you have it.” mind, body, and soul, she nuzzles his cheek, hand pressed »
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her thread begins unravelling, just a little, the second he touches her. she nods, so close he can better feel her than see her, as she brushes her lips along his jaw.
“yes,” she confesses, heavy and quiet. “easy? i »⠀
his chest tighten, the counter cold against his back, but there’s nothing cold about the way he responds. one hand slides up her side, firm, steady, while the other rests at her waist, keeping her close. a breath catching in his throat.
“you want me to say it?” his voice is—
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hips slowly press against his, driving him back into the kitchen counter just enough to bite. lips brush along his jaw, mouth close enough for him to hear the way her breath catches and trembles.
"i want you to tell me."
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his gaze never leaves hers, as if he’s daring her to be the one to break first. “if you really want to test it…” he lets the thought hang in the space between them, “really want to know what I *want.”
his body leaning in just enough that she can feel the heat of his —
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"now who's the one speaking in riddles? y'know, if this is a ploy to get me to shut you up... 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨." he might be unwilling to cross the line, but she is. bodies melded together, breath shared.
"please tell »
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“maybe it’s not just about saving,” he says, voice softer, the weight of the words settling in the space between them. “maybe it’s about fighting for what I know I still want.”
he leans in, just a little, but doesn’t break the invisible line they’ve drawn between them, like —
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"is that what you're callin' it these days?" gaze meets his, some mixture between guarded and giving, still unsure if there's anything that might send him packing.
"but. if you're serious... that's not anything i've ever doubted."
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“testing if there’s anything left to save.”
he doesn’t touch her, doesn’t breathe too hard, like the whole moment might collapse if he does. but his eyes are steady—aching, defiant.
“and I think… I still want there to be.”
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"i'm testing you? and what is it that i'm testing?" a mixture of curiosity and entertained, she finally closes what little distance remains between them, pressing into him now, too.
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the weight of years—of longing—pressing into him. breath hitches ever so slightly, but he doesn’t move. “you’re … testing me, tai.”
jaw tightening, lets out a breath, slow and measured, trying to reclaim control. “all I’m saying is, there’s only so much I can hold onto.”
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"oh, now i've been playing with 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦, have i?" fingers rake through fiery hair as soft as silk.
"i think i've been on awfully good behavior. actually.
you disagree?"
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“guess it depends on the reason you’re asking.”
leans in— not enough to close the space completely. gaze drifts—eyes, lips, eyes again.
“you’ve been playing with fire long enough, tai… don’t be surprised when it burns.”
a knowing look tossed. “or is that what you want?”
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"mh, what, i have to initiate all affection just because i'm the top? how 𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘰," teases, lingering at the corner of his mouth.
"when did getting drunk and handsy start sounding like a trick question?"
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“since you started making everything sound like a trick question.”
he doesn’t hesitate—just leans in and presses a slow, grounding kiss to her forehead. reverent and steady.
“hi,” he murmurs, softer now.pulling back just enough to meet her eyes. “took you long enough.”
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"oooookay, dr. seuss. since when did you start speaking exclusively in riddles?" lips pursed, she ambles over to close the distance at his insistence, eyes twinkling with affection.
"hi."
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“funny thing about bad decisions—sometimes, they’re just good ones waiting to happen.”
he lets the silence hang, his eyes daring her to make the first move. “c’mere.”
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heart aches to close the distance, but she refrains——self—denial's pleasure bleeding into desire so deeply she can barely tell the difference, anymore.
"now who said anything about bad decisions?"
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“sounds like a disaster waiting to happen. wine and relentless affection? you’re practically begging for a hangover and bad decisions.”
he leans in slightly, grin widening.
“but I guess if you need a partner in crime… I’m very good at making bad decisions look intentional.”