[ (The Any better? was rhetorical, for the record.) ]
[ In her place, he wouldn't want understanding either. It's another word synonymous with jimmed locks. It's something people step in to steal, to use against you. It's too intimate, understanding. Lets a stranger see all of you, even without trying. ]
[ Her kiss is easy to interpret as smokescreen. If she was aggressive about it, covering his mouth to simultaneously press him into service and shut him up, he'd feel a stab of irritation. I'm not your damn whore. But. Come on. He's used her twice as a fast-track out of feeling shitty. Even if it didn't work long for him -- she's entitled to try the same thing. ]
[ His breath is steady, but his slow exhale against her mouth carries the faintest soothing edge. He tries to keep his lips soft, the tongue smooth -- a slow build-up instead of the preferred quick-&-dirty shortcut. Circling her closer, he spans his hand down her back, scraping his thumbnail along fabric, until his thumb is hooked snugly in the waistband of her jeans. He twines the fingers of the other hand into her hair, rough pads of fingers massaging her scalp. Trying to make her feel safe. Trying to make it mean something. ]
[ Ridiculous, of course. But isn't the illusion everything? ]
⊕ action
[ In her place, he wouldn't want understanding either. It's another word synonymous with jimmed locks. It's something people step in to steal, to use against you. It's too intimate, understanding. Lets a stranger see all of you, even without trying. ]
[ Her kiss is easy to interpret as smokescreen. If she was aggressive about it, covering his mouth to simultaneously press him into service and shut him up, he'd feel a stab of irritation. I'm not your damn whore. But. Come on. He's used her twice as a fast-track out of feeling shitty. Even if it didn't work long for him -- she's entitled to try the same thing. ]
[ His breath is steady, but his slow exhale against her mouth carries the faintest soothing edge. He tries to keep his lips soft, the tongue smooth -- a slow build-up instead of the preferred quick-&-dirty shortcut. Circling her closer, he spans his hand down her back, scraping his thumbnail along fabric, until his thumb is hooked snugly in the waistband of her jeans. He twines the fingers of the other hand into her hair, rough pads of fingers massaging her scalp. Trying to make her feel safe. Trying to make it mean something. ]
[ Ridiculous, of course. But isn't the illusion everything? ]