[ Nobody says her name like he does, with an x that both punctuates and drags, held safe in his mouth. She wants him to say it again, to play it on repeat like a favourite song. Record him and keep him, even, so that the next time he leaves her, she can hold onto more than his jacket, the dwindling scent of him in his clothes, his too-comfortable bed. It nearly knocks her backwards, all of him, flooding her senses now. She shudders. Waits. Tries not to slip under, like she did when she killed him.
Jinx lifts her hand from his cheek to remove her mask, alarmed to find it shaking all the while — every muscle tensed and rigid with how she holds herself back. The mask hits the ground, clatter impossibly loud for how it interrupts Silco’s uneven breaths and ratcheting heartbeat. Painted nails draw patterns along his side, trying to soothe, failing to (at least she imagines) when her nails dig into his hip. ]
I will. I will.
[ Eyes stinging, throat closing up. You have to take care of him now, the way he scooped her into his arms and dragged her back from the underworld. Having been here for months, she would be able to guess what this place wants of them, even if she weren’t wet and needful herself. ]
I found you. I have you.
[ Mad ramblings, desperation on her tongue. He doesn’t want you, he left you, you’ll just hurt him — ]
You just have to let me closer. [ As if she isn’t looming over him already, a shadow made tangible. Her braid falls to the curve of his shoulder below her. ] To let me — [ push him back against the grass, uncaring of the flowers and weeds, her hand splayed at his sternum. To take his jaw in her dainty fingers and tip it up to meet her mouth, so she can steal the air from his lungs. Or return it. Share it, as they’ve shared nearly everything since he first held her. It’ll help. She knows it will, for how right it feels to taste him again. Properly, not chastely. ]
no subject
Jinx lifts her hand from his cheek to remove her mask, alarmed to find it shaking all the while — every muscle tensed and rigid with how she holds herself back. The mask hits the ground, clatter impossibly loud for how it interrupts Silco’s uneven breaths and ratcheting heartbeat. Painted nails draw patterns along his side, trying to soothe, failing to (at least she imagines) when her nails dig into his hip. ]
I will. I will.
[ Eyes stinging, throat closing up. You have to take care of him now, the way he scooped her into his arms and dragged her back from the underworld. Having been here for months, she would be able to guess what this place wants of them, even if she weren’t wet and needful herself. ]
I found you. I have you.
[ Mad ramblings, desperation on her tongue. He doesn’t want you, he left you, you’ll just hurt him — ]
You just have to let me closer. [ As if she isn’t looming over him already, a shadow made tangible. Her braid falls to the curve of his shoulder below her. ] To let me — [ push him back against the grass, uncaring of the flowers and weeds, her hand splayed at his sternum. To take his jaw in her dainty fingers and tip it up to meet her mouth, so she can steal the air from his lungs. Or return it. Share it, as they’ve shared nearly everything since he first held her. It’ll help. She knows it will, for how right it feels to taste him again. Properly, not chastely. ]