chanson triste, c

Things were moving fast. Noemi reached her hands behind her back and unzipped her dress, and he was certainly impressed. The shit-eating smirk on his face told the entire story. It was only a moment before she kissed him again, hard, pressing her lips against his with fervor.

And just as quickly as it had started, it stopped. She pulled away, standing down there with serious, wide eyes. Everything became heavy. Her words dropped from her mouth like raindrops and splashed on the ground with a thundering roar.

He had heard the words before, but never like this. It was always in some kind of pastoral, familial situation. His parents, a grandparent, one of his similarly-aged cousins as they left after Christmas dinner, upset that their moments of play were cut short. But the words from a lover...that was something he'd never experienced.

"No, they haven't," he replied, his expression matching her, the smirk having faded away long ago. His words were hollow. He didn't want to think about love right now. "Not that I can ever remember."

@noemi

It was music to Kieran's ears. Finally a woman he could spend a night with, no strings attached. No phone calls, no tears, nothing. He wouldn't have to worry about her getting her panties in a bunch and she wouldn't have to worry about him getting too attached — because he didn't. Kieran was not someone who got attached.

At least, not in reality. In his mind, attachment might not be so bad. But in reality he wasn't ready for that, not for commitment. Attachments were anchors that dragged you down and in Kieran's fast paced lifestyle, anchors were his worst nightmare.

Dreams and nightmares always had a funny way of coinciding together anyways, the lines between them fuzzy, seamless.

He can almost feel the chill in her gaze on his bare skin that she's exposed, her lithe fingers brushing up against the scarred skin of his chest. Scars leftover from the accident that caused him to wear the eye patch. He tried not to think about that too much. Imagining his stock car rolling and seeing the flames inches from his face was definitely a mood killer.

"If that's supposed to scare me, it's not doin' a very good job," he murmured, leaning forward to press his lips to hers again, drinking her in but not allowing himself to get drunk. "I like the sound of it, actually."

@noemi

Her hands continue to trace over his scars and she looks up at him with inquiring eyes. Assuming that she wants to know exactly how he got the marks all over his body, a little sigh escaped him. Discussing the accident wasn't very good foreplay either, but he didn't want to just refuse, either.

"I was in an accident," he explained. "I dr- er, used to drive race cars. I ended up getting into a pretty bad accident during a race and I got all of those."

"That's what fucked up my eye, too," he mentioned, motioning to the simple black patch covering his eye, the straps wrapping around his head and disappearing into his hair. It had been strange at first to wear them, but now it was like second nature. It was like he'd never had that eye in the first place.

Pulling open his shirt more he revealed the rest of the faded pink lines across his chest, some wrapping around his ribs or shoulders to continue down his back. As far as bodies goes, his was pretty beat up from the hardships of life, and though he tried to stay fit, he couldn't completely erase the lanky frame he was born with.

Freckles kissed his shoulders and spilled over onto his shoulder blades, his upper arms and his collarbones, but they couldn't hide the scars that still marred his body. No one had paid his scars any mind before. Now that she had touched them, ran her fingers over them, they became real as if she carved them herself with her nails.

@noemi

She kissed him again and again. The night slipped away from them as they slipped into his bed, the city continuing on beneath them. He was on his back, he was looking at the stars in the sky and then at Noemi's eyes, and it was hard to tell the difference sometimes. He wasn't in love. Kieran could appreciate beauty without being in love.

But he'd never really felt it to know what it felt like in the first place.

His chest was heaving from the after-effects of his release, swallowing air to regulate his insides. Noemi was next to him, on top of him, she was somewhere. His eyes were closed as he came down from his high, but not like the ones that came from the little synthetic pills. A natural high, a natural rush, and it was almost as good as the euphoria from the pills.

He didn't know how long she was going to stay. Kieran wouldn't mind whatever she picked, but if she wanted to leave, she could leave. If she wanted to stay, she'd have a bed to sleep in for the night. Not sure how to vocalize the question, he just laid there, spent and suddenly tired.

@noemi