" even as a shadow. even as a dream. "

beastofxburden:

          she should be more conscious of the way he’s touching her, but it feels good. natural. another familiar thing, somehow, and she catches that flicker in his eyes, how they go green to brown in a way that makes her smile ease and soften, just for him. 

            he guides her along and she goes, easy, hips moving with the beat, brushing against his. they move together easily, too easily, and there’s a flicker in the back of her mind, a pinprick of memory –– the pair of them like this, but not here, not now, dancing to a different kind of song in a different kind of place, and shilah with that same look on his face, and ––

           she stops, shakes her head, hands still settled against shilah’s chest. “–– sorry.”

He’s quick to pull away, hands off of her, and half wondering if he did something wrong. But the way she looks at him makes him know it’s not about that; this is about what’s happened with Jack.

“Jo — “ there’s a million things he wants to tell her, but now wasn’t the right time. “ hey. Why don’t I take you home? And we can go out again when you feel more up to it.” He itches to reach out for her, but as always, he holds himself back.

beastofxburden:

          she should be more conscious of the way he’s touching her, but it feels good. natural. another familiar thing, somehow, and she catches that flicker in his eyes, how they go green to brown in a way that makes her smile ease and soften, just for him. 

            he guides her along and she goes, easy, hips moving with the beat, brushing against his. they move together easily, too easily, and there’s a flicker in the back of her mind, a pinprick of memory –– the pair of them like this, but not here, not now, dancing to a different kind of song in a different kind of place, and shilah with that same look on his face, and ––

           she stops, shakes her head, hands still settled against shilah’s chest. “–– sorry.”

            he sees the way that she zones out for a moment,  and he holds her tighter,  more secure.  maybe she was too drunk,  too many drinks,  maybe she was thinking about jack and making herself upset as she probably would be if she hadn’t been here  –  “  it’s okay.  “  gently,  he places a hand on her cheek.  “  do we need to stop?  are you feeling okay?  “

she looks at him, wide-eyed and confused. it’s not the first time this has happened, and it makes even less sense now than it had then. she doesn’t understand it — why she catches these glimpses, sometimes, like she’s been here before. why she says things and shilah gets that look on his face, wrecked and pleased all at once. she shakes her head and laughs, shaky, like that will put the moment past them. “i’m okay.” she says. “we don’t have to stop.”

           because they’re in a situation where maybe it’s okay,  and maybe he can,  he leans forward and presses a butterfly kiss to her forehead.  “  just let me know if you’re not,  and we’ll stop.  “  he says,  giving her a stern look that melts into something softer.  “  but we can keep dancing.  “ 

“okay.” her hands close around his wrists for a moment before she lets him go and tries to ease some of that same softness into her face, too. when she feels as though she can’t, she turns, leans back into his chest so that he doesn’t have to see her face at all.

He’s surprised when she turns around, but surprise changes into a different mood when she pushes back against him and they start dancing again. He feels — like he’s taking advantage of this, again, but it’s so easy to forget that it’s not just him and her and nothing else.

Hands on her hips, he lets her move as she pleases, pulling her back every now and then a little harder then he needed to. At one point, he gets a mouthful of her blonde wild hair, and he dips his head into her neck and laughs.

beastofxburden:

          she should be more conscious of the way he’s touching her, but it feels good. natural. another familiar thing, somehow, and she catches that flicker in his eyes, how they go green to brown in a way that makes her smile ease and soften, just for him. 

            he guides her along and she goes, easy, hips moving with the beat, brushing against his. they move together easily, too easily, and there’s a flicker in the back of her mind, a pinprick of memory –– the pair of them like this, but not here, not now, dancing to a different kind of song in a different kind of place, and shilah with that same look on his face, and ––

           she stops, shakes her head, hands still settled against shilah’s chest. “–– sorry.”

            he sees the way that she zones out for a moment,  and he holds her tighter,  more secure.  maybe she was too drunk,  too many drinks,  maybe she was thinking about jack and making herself upset as she probably would be if she hadn’t been here  –  “  it’s okay.  “  gently,  he places a hand on her cheek.  “  do we need to stop?  are you feeling okay?  “

she looks at him, wide-eyed and confused. it’s not the first time this has happened, and it makes even less sense now than it had then. she doesn’t understand it — why she catches these glimpses, sometimes, like she’s been here before. why she says things and shilah gets that look on his face, wrecked and pleased all at once. she shakes her head and laughs, shaky, like that will put the moment past them. “i’m okay.” she says. “we don’t have to stop.”

           because they’re in a situation where maybe it’s okay,  and maybe he can,  he leans forward and presses a butterfly kiss to her forehead.  “  just let me know if you’re not,  and we’ll stop.  “  he says,  giving her a stern look that melts into something softer.  “  but we can keep dancing.  “ 

beastofxburden:

          she should be more conscious of the way he’s touching her, but it feels good. natural. another familiar thing, somehow, and she catches that flicker in his eyes, how they go green to brown in a way that makes her smile ease and soften, just for him. 

            he guides her along and she goes, easy, hips moving with the beat, brushing against his. they move together easily, too easily, and there’s a flicker in the back of her mind, a pinprick of memory –– the pair of them like this, but not here, not now, dancing to a different kind of song in a different kind of place, and shilah with that same look on his face, and ––

           she stops, shakes her head, hands still settled against shilah’s chest. “–– sorry.”

            he sees the way that she zones out for a moment,  and he holds her tighter,  more secure.  maybe she was too drunk,  too many drinks,  maybe she was thinking about jack and making herself upset as she probably would be if she hadn’t been here  --  “  it’s okay.  “  gently,  he places a hand on her cheek.  “  do we need to stop?  are you feeling okay?  “

disintegratiive:

          he leans closer to her still,  their faces close.  he’s toeing a line that he shouldn’t toe and  –  he would be lying if he said it didn’t feel damn good.  “  –  what other talents do you have,  miss josephine?  “ 

Following after her, they move away from the bar over to the dance floor. It’s not really a spot he would have picked for dancing, but at this point, he didn’t care. It was just an excuse to be close to her.

Reaching out to put his hands on her waist, waiting for a new song to start up, he pulls her closer. “Show me how good you are.” He says with a wink.

it’s not really the best spot, but she doesn’t want to drag him all around the city when really, he didn’t have to come here at all. she’s glad he has, still, and she worries what he thinks of her — if she’s coming off too strong, if she seems as pathetic as she feels. she pushes it aside, though, and loops her arms around his neck, pushing herself up so that they’re nearly an even height.

“okay.” the wink makes her heart skip a beat. “but only if you can keep up.”

He can’t help but smooth his hands up and down her side, feeling how she’s pressed against him and how her clothes press against her. “I’ve got a lot of stamina.” And his eyes flash green in the light, like the beast in him knows something, knows her, as it did.

When the song rolls again he’s the one to move first against her, guiding her body along with the rhythm and along with him. They fit just as well together as they did fifty years ago, and it makes his heart race.

disintegratiive:

          he leans closer to her still,  their faces close.  he’s toeing a line that he shouldn’t toe and  –  he would be lying if he said it didn’t feel damn good.  “  –  what other talents do you have,  miss josephine?  “ 

Following after her, they move away from the bar over to the dance floor. It’s not really a spot he would have picked for dancing, but at this point, he didn’t care. It was just an excuse to be close to her.

Reaching out to put his hands on her waist, waiting for a new song to start up, he pulls her closer. “Show me how good you are.” He says with a wink.

disintegratiive:

          he leans closer to her still,  their faces close.  he’s toeing a line that he shouldn’t toe and  –  he would be lying if he said it didn’t feel damn good.  “  –  what other talents do you have,  miss josephine?  “ 

she doesn’t lean back, away from him, like she ought to. instead, this feels — good. like it should be. she’s surprised by that, again, the familiar feeling that tugs at the back of her mind when they’re like this, like she has somehow done all this before. a blink, and they could be here like this years ago. that’s how familiar it feels.

“plenty of them.” she gives him a wink. “you just don’t know them yet.”

He’s tempted to — and this time, he does give into it. A reach to her hair and he tugs so that she turns her neck slightly. “Why don’t you show me one now?” He asks, voice low so that only she can hear him.

the easy touch — like he always does, like it has been since the two of them met, and he was the one reaching out for her — makes her pause and look at him for a moment, lips parted. she doesn’t shake him away like she should, again, and her hand settles at his knee again to keep her balance. “because,” she says, “its more fun to keep you guessing.”

“Because.” He drawls out with her. At the hand on his knee, he smooths a thumb over her knuckles, the touch tender.

Moving to reach for one of the cherry stems, he grins at her. “I’ll show you one of mine if you show me one of yours. “ With that, he pops the cherry stem in his mouth and takes it out again. It’s tied in a perfect not.

she watches him, nose wrinkling, because she can do that, too. now, it seems less impressive. she leans a little closer to him, realizes that if he turned his head differently she’d be too close, her nose skimming along his cheek.

“a lot of people can do that.” she huffs out, but it is a perfect knot, and now being able to do it herself seems less impressive. “you’re real out of luck this isn’t the type of shitty bar with a mechanical bull. I’d really show you then.”

He could kiss her now, they were so close. He could say it was accident. He could say anything right now if he thought she wanted to hear it. “A mechanical bull?” He says, eyebrows raised high. “That is an odd talent. Means you have good balance. That you can handle being on top of — things.”

disintegratiive:

          he leans closer to her still,  their faces close.  he’s toeing a line that he shouldn’t toe and  –  he would be lying if he said it didn’t feel damn good.  “  –  what other talents do you have,  miss josephine?  “ 

she doesn’t lean back, away from him, like she ought to. instead, this feels — good. like it should be. she’s surprised by that, again, the familiar feeling that tugs at the back of her mind when they’re like this, like she has somehow done all this before. a blink, and they could be here like this years ago. that’s how familiar it feels.

“plenty of them.” she gives him a wink. “you just don’t know them yet.”

He’s tempted to — and this time, he does give into it. A reach to her hair and he tugs so that she turns her neck slightly. “Why don’t you show me one now?” He asks, voice low so that only she can hear him.

the easy touch — like he always does, like it has been since the two of them met, and he was the one reaching out for her — makes her pause and look at him for a moment, lips parted. she doesn’t shake him away like she should, again, and her hand settles at his knee again to keep her balance. “because,” she says, “its more fun to keep you guessing.”

“Because.” He drawls out with her. At the hand on his knee, he smooths a thumb over her knuckles, the touch tender.

Moving to reach for one of the cherry stems, he grins at her. “I’ll show you one of mine if you show me one of yours. “ With that, he pops the cherry stem in his mouth and takes it out again. It’s tied in a perfect not.

disintegratiive:

          he leans closer to her still,  their faces close.  he’s toeing a line that he shouldn’t toe and  –  he would be lying if he said it didn’t feel damn good.  “  –  what other talents do you have,  miss josephine?  “ 

she doesn’t lean back, away from him, like she ought to. instead, this feels — good. like it should be. she’s surprised by that, again, the familiar feeling that tugs at the back of her mind when they’re like this, like she has somehow done all this before. a blink, and they could be here like this years ago. that’s how familiar it feels.

“plenty of them.” she gives him a wink. “you just don’t know them yet.”

He’s tempted to — and this time, he does give into it. A reach to her hair and he tugs so that she turns her neck slightly. “Why don’t you show me one now?” He asks, voice low so that only she can hear him.