» my number called --, Tenko <3

[tempest pryde]

She doesn't quite know what she's been doing for the last week, but she knows that she can still feel Ranko's hand grasping her wrist, she can still see his eyes searching her face before he lets her go and leaves. Before he denies her completely and she's left sitting there in the semi darkness, staring at where he'd been sitting as her coffee goes cold in her hands. She feels that loss burn like an unholy hell fire, setting her alight with anger, but she can't bring herself to move. Not now, not for hours. She sits through the night and she thinks, she wonders at what she's doing and where she's going. She wonders at what's right and what she thinks is right, and for days she can't decide. She's lost in her thoughts and the sounds of him moving about until everything goes quiet and she's left alone, even Fyfe deserts her at this point. She thinks that's only fair, she's done something wrong even though she can't quite grasp what it is. She feels guilty without having reason and it eats her alive until she stumbles on the fact that he's never done anything he didn't want to do, and he's never seemed like someone that would just go along with what she wants.

For days after that realisation she burns herself out on missions and working out and parades and drills and training. She comes home and she collapses on her bed, Fyfe whining at her prone body as if she's dead and sometimes she thinks she's pretty close to it, but that damn heart is still beating, still thrashing away in her chest and she still stares at the ceiling for fifteen minutes every morning when she comes back to consciousness. She still finds herself wondering where the nightmares have come from and why they won't stop. Wondering if she should be doing what she's doing, but doing it anyway because it's all she really knows how to do in the long run. It's eating her alive and she knows it, but she lets it gnaw away at her insides until she's shaking on the floor of the bathroom one night, locked in there and stabbing herself with Endure because she can't bear for him to touch her any longer. She's falling apart piece by piece but she won't even admit it to herself.

Tempest opens her eyes that morning and she's tired, more tired than she's felt in years. It feels like swimming through tar to simply sit up, but she does it anyway and she's gone and out of the house before she has to look at Ranko or share a room with him. She spends the morning screaming at people and the afternoon sloshing through a swamp trying to track down a man from Five. He's out of breath and so is she by the time she gets to him, and she stands over him for a minute before she cuffs him and calls in support. She knows how he feels, knows exactly what it's like to have outrun yourself and not have anything to do but give up. She's come to that point by the time the hovercraft drops her back off at the Justice Building, she swims through the paper work and discharges her weapons, shrugs out of her uniform in the locker room because she's not worn it home for days. She's avoiding going back to her house because he's there and because she just can't. So she half drowns herself in the shower, water running down that formidable and horrific scar on her chest, steam rising about her and still she can't stop thinking, can't stop wishing she'd just done nothing, because everything would be a small step closer to normal if she'd just left damn well alone.

It's in jeans and a t-shirt that she arrives back home, sneakered feet carrying her in the floor until she trips over the rug from tiredness and only just stops herself from landing unceremoniously on top of her own dog. Fyfe whines and Tempest feels like whining as well, but she doesn't. She's been coolly unemotional from the moment she steps inside the door to the moment that she steps out of it ever since their little 'chat'. It's survival instinct, really, trying to keep herself from falling into the gaping abyss that she's staring into. Trying not to let the abyss stare into her, as well. Hand on the side table she pushes herself into a standing position and trudges into the open plan living room and heads for the couch, not really noting if anybody else is there and not really caring for once either. She's half dead on her feet as she turns and lets the arm of the couch caress the back of her knees. That's just enough for her to let go and she topples backwards, sinking into the couch cushions with a barely suppressed groan of appreciation.

Her eyes close, but all she sees is his face, the blood and the knife in her hand. She opens them again and thinks about screaming at the ceiling, about screaming at the apartment, about screaming at something, but she's done enough of that for one day. She thinks about that man in the swamp and about the defeat written on his face. She knows it's written on hers as well, scrawled all over her body along with the fatigue and guilt. She's done wrong and she knows it, but she doesn't know how to get it past her lips. She closes her eyes again and tries to erase the crimson bathed memories.

Words: 947 -- Hope this works.. Tell me if it doesn't, love

i was wondering if we got that real soul you know that thing we cannot trade or ever own took a step to the left took a step to the right saw myself and it wasn't quite right -----------------------------

Ebz

[ranko bronimer]

i really need to do things right.

The last week has dragged on for Ranko. The highlight has been refusing Tempest's attempt at slapping him because she was frustrated not just with him but with herself. It wasn't the kindest highlight so much as the biggest event that had happened in a long time. He had gone into the kitchen and then retreated to his room even going so far as to ignore Click when she came to his door and pawed at it. Sleep was eventually found but only after taking a solid amount of sleeping pills to usher it in and to forget about the entire ordeal. It had been a five minute encounter that he would rather have never happened but there was no way in which he could prevent it. Time couldn't be rewritten and Ranko was left even sleeping past his alarm and having to pry himself from the mattress to do anything. Granted, the second she was out the door he was back in bed hoping to find more rest that still evaded him. Left with a dog whining at the foot of his bed, he took to spending the larger part of his day milling about District Two with the canine at his heels than actually following through with his chores. It was a rebellion against the orders that would still be finished by the time she walked through the door as even he couldn't bring himself to refuse them completely in knowing the consequences.

It was still engrained in him that to go against the system was trouble. It was still engrained to the extent that he was compelled to do as he was told at the end of it all even if he would rather not. It was the same as when he had owned up to letting that girl escape and the lapse in judgment was too much for him to be comfortable with. The system was his responsibility to uphold and to rock it was to become a problem rather than a force of maintaining order. In the end, it was his loyalty to the system that ruined him as much as it strengthened his morals and kept him on a strict line of treading while adhering to other's demands. Thus the dishes and vacuuming was completed without hesitation as was the dusting and whatever else she had chosen to assign him. They stayed far out of the other's way only a more tangible tension was between them from her side more than his own. He had resigned himself to simply working out his sentence and thinking rather than dwelling and letting it eat him up completely.

She had taken to refusing his offerings for the drug he was initially taken in to administer. There was little he could do after that point as it only emphasized that he'd done wrong in refuting the abuse. His only hope for any redemption was to go about his days cleaning and then head out for walks once she had dispatched herself for bed. He preferred the evening walks to those of the day anyway. There were fewer people about and things seemed to lose their immediacy that the day so often gave a hue of. He could spend hours wandering and it wouldn't have occurred to him to check the time so long as he was back by morning.

His mind was contemplating taking another one after he had tidied up the kitchen area when Tempest finally made her way in and unceremoniously dropped on the couch. Glancing at the clock and he knew she was early considering she'd preferred to come as late as possible the last few days and a part of him wondered what might have spurred that decision. However, he was in no place to be inquiring and gave her a few minute's rest while the dogs moved about the house adjusting to the difference in their owners. He peered over the couch to find her presumably sleeping and his head shook slowly as if more energetic would have woken her. Ranko plucked a blanket from a closet and put it over Tempest before returning to make a cup of coffee she'd probably want when waking. And if not, well, he also liked coffee so it wasn't really a bother.

tagged: tenko. words: 716. notes: no novellas this time.

SARAH LOVES ME ♥

[tempest pryde]

She’s not asleep. In fact, in the grand scheme of things she’s blindingly, hatefully awake. She can’t even bring herself to think about sleep, even though her body’s so damn tired it’s taken to tripping her over things and jerking in strange spasms every now and then, like she’s trying to dance herself to bed or something equally bizarre. Her eyes fly open as Ranko walks away, leaving a blanket over the top of her that she doesn’t want and summarily lets fall to the floor with a flick of her hand. ”I don’t want coffee,” she says stubbornly, and it’s half to herself, half to the room at large, because she hasn’t spoken directly to him since she tried to slap him. She doesn’t really know how to anymore, doesn’t know how to fall back into what they had before, probably because it’ll never be recaptured, whatever kind of strange balance they’d found. All she knows is that she’s sorry and she can’t bring herself to say it just yet although she’s trying. She’s trying really hard not to just get up and walk out as well, because that would be another solution even though she’s never backed down from anything in her life and she doesn’t want to start now so instead she stares at the living room ceiling, lethargic and wide awake, ready for her personal life to take another downturn.

Somewhere around the time she closes her eyes again she hears the frantic scratching of claws on the wooden floor, then the distinct absence of the noise before one of the dogs scrabbles its way onto the couch and throws itself onto her stomach. She only half expected it, so she’s breathless by the time she opens her eyes, coughing just the once as she looks down her nose at Fyfe who’s now sprawled across her, licking at her chin. She can’t help but wrap the dog in her arms then, drawing the ball of fur against her as she closes her eyes once more. To the dog’s credit, Fyfe doesn’t protest much, just wriggles into a comfortable position and then lies still, panting soft breaths onto Tempest’s neck. The dog’s a comfort, a little bit of good in her day, an acceptance by something where every other move she’s made has seemed to contain some little touch of poison. Her eyes fall closed once more and she murmurs a quiet sentence to the pup, just one and that's enough. The dog understands, or she'd like to believe it does. "I'm tired, Fyfe." Just enough, maybe too much if she were admitting it to anyone else, and then she feels the trail of moisture sliding down from the corner of her eye and making a dive for her hairline, just above her ear. She's crying, she realises - it's been so long she'd forgotten what it felt like.

Her hand dashes the tear away, and whether it was borne of fatigue or frustration she doesn't ask herself, simply sighs softly and turns her head to face the back of the couch. She's half awake as her awareness shuts down slowly, blocking mostly everything else out but the sounds of Ranko moving about the kitchen and the dog panting on her chest, leaving her slightly breathless but warmer than any blanket. She sniffs, quietly, blinks back the unshed tears and yawns, one hand belatedly covering her mouth before it moves to wrap around Fyfe once more. She can't sleep, though, because every time she tries she finds nothing but rows of needles, or Ranko and the knife, like two terrible pantomimes put on by school children who really know no better. She wonders what she should do, if she can push herself into a sitting position and maybe go write her reports in bed, but she yawns again and decides she can't be bothered moving because even with her legs dangling over the arm of the couch she's more comfortable than she has been in a while, more at ease even though he's in the same room as her and she thinks she can feel the rejection radiating off of him. Her problem is partly this, that she presumes things of people without asking, but she's been taught to trust her own instincts and she does, over everything.

Words: 721 -- Found her

i was wondering if we got that real soul you know that thing we cannot trade or ever own took a step to the left took a step to the right saw myself and it wasn't quite right -----------------------------

Ebz

[ranko bronimer]

i really need to do things right.

She wouldn't be Tempest if she hadn't found something to protest in his actions every single time he went to act. A smirk toyed with his expression as the blanket was unceremoniously dropped on the floor and he kept his eyes downward as if he hadn't noticed in the first place. At least he could be the kinder of the pair to the other instead of taking anger out on her. Shoulders shrugged as she refused the coffee opting to pour it for his own good. If Tempest wished to be cranky, she could, but not everything he did was just for her own benefit - as to whether she realized that yet he did not know the answer to. The coffee smelled appealing to him as he took a sip of the brew watching the living room for signs that she would get up and most likely dump the liquid down the drain as if to make a point. When no such thing came, Ranko was on the surprised side wondering where the indignant and self-sufficient woman had disappeared to. Interest enough could be set aside as he noticed Click looking up at him expectantly like he would drop a morsel for her as a reward for being near.

Despite what Tempest might like to think, Ranko did not resent her. If he had been in her position, most likely he would have felt the same way. It was a drawback to not having his voice; the ever-present sense of isolation when being surrounded by others who could taste, see, hear, and rub so many abilities in his face without meaning to. While they were ignorant of their fortunes, Ranko was left to make do with his meager offerings. A cup sat cooling for her when she got over her irritation with him and his refusal for being slapped days earlier. Since then, tension was palpable in the air on her part more than his. The only response he had to it was to avoid crossing paths with her but she was left with her thoughts unable to voice themselves out of her own stubbornness. The last time he'd communicated with a note had been to inform her of his opinion on chores but even that banter hadn't lasted for long. Instead, it had been passed off when things became too personal and Tempest refrained from being any more visible than she was before. She made it difficult for both of them to deal as she held her dog close on the couch. He'd known they'd get to her if she was in close contact long enough.

For Ranko, he'd had enough of Tempest roaming about the apartment only to disappear like a wisp of smoke at the slightest indication that he was nearby. He placed the cup near her regardless of her demand that she had no wish for it and plucked Fyfe from her arms to set the canine down on the floor. Before she could try to punish him again, he'd already stepped out of the way only returning to the kitchen long enough to drop the kibble for the dogs. Both were happily stuffing their faces and Ranko was patiently waiting for her reprimand for taking her dog away even if it was to feed it.

tagged: tenko. words: 551. notes: he's just trying to bug her now. and i found them here (click)

SARAH LOVES ME ♥

[tempest pryde]

Tempest utters the smallest noise of annoyance and reprimand as he pulls her dog from her arms and sets Fyfe on the floor. She'd been comfortable and warm until that point, but now she finds herself cold and her hand, dangling over the edge of the couch, reaches for the blanket and she pulls it over herself stubbornly, forgetting that mere moments ago it was Ranko who'd laid it over her and that she's trying so hard to stay away from his kindness - or his rejection, for that matter. It's mostly the rejection that she fears, even if she doesn't quite register it yet, because up until this point everything she's strived for, everything she's set her sights on, she's received it through working hard or simply reaching out and taking it. This, however, she cannot seem to wrap her head around. He's a person, a living, breathing and thinking being that works under his own steam, and won't be persuaded or cajoled or pleaded into anything. Figuring out how this is all going to go ahead is difficult, because of her limited experience in matters of the heart. She deals primarily with circumstance, with probability and matters of the mind, but this is something so different it's left her with her defensiveness and nothing else. She hopes it's enough.

Fyfe clicks away and she's left with a steaming cup of coffee and a sense of being robbed. "You didn't have to do that," she says quietly, a tone that hides the indignation she feels quite well. She wants to tell him that he doesn't need to do anything at all, that she's got this all under control, but she doesn't. She finds she's angry without really knowing why, frustrated to the point of violence and yet somehow calm all at once. It's a ridiculous swirl of emotions and she shuts her eyes against them only to see his goddamn face again. The guilt's eating her alive, and she doesn't know whether it stems from cutting out his tongue or kissing him. She'd almost prefer if it came from the former, in fact. "You're everywhere," she finally lets out, with more than a hint of anger in her words. "Every fucking where, even in my dreams." She finds the strength to move then, sliding her legs from the arms of the couch, steepling her elbows on her knees and planting her head in her hands, covering her face completely and blocking out the world. She would say more, but she finds that she's said enough, and probably far too much at the same time.

She feels too drained to be getting into this, too wasted by her day and her strict avoidance of the man who's now hovering around the room and making her life hell. He's probably annoying her on purpose, too, and if she were different she might concede that she deserves it - but this is Tempest Pryde we're talking about. She doesn't concede a goddamn inch. This is his fault, and somehow he's going to make it stop.

Words: 513 -- Suck suck suckity suck.

i was wondering if we got that real soul you know that thing we cannot trade or ever own took a step to the left took a step to the right saw myself and it wasn't quite right -----------------------------

Ebz

[ranko bronimer]

i really need to do things right.

There was something that Ranko had missed in his calculations. The house was cleaned from top to bottom as a meager attempt to appease the tension Tempest was determined to hold between them. If he hadn't made her the coffee, he would have been yelled at for that later and not considering her own person. As determined as Tempest was to take care of herself, he was legally bound to an extent that he do his best to make her life easier. At least he was trying to bridge the chasm that seemed to stand between them in an apparently vain attempt to express himself. Though she'd stubbornly refused the blanket at first, he had nodded somewhat accepting that she would only take it when she needed it as usual. It was the same concept he applied to why he had offered the cup of java despite her blatant refusal of needing the caffeine. Rather than dwell on the reprimanding, Ranko had turned back to the counter scrubbing with a sponge at some grime that was being difficult in coming up from the surface. He might not have had to but he wanted to. He might be an avox but he had preferences to other human beings just like anyone else and he was at least able to try and show it.

There was a request lingering at the back of his mind as his gaze moved from the dogs to the couch and back again. Asking it would prove just as much the note she'd left of him possibly going soft but it was important to him - or at least to people he cared about. It wasn't the thing he really wanted to ask but it comforted him to know he wasn't the only one failing in matters of the heart. Whatever he might try would surely fail but he wouldn't know until he attempted it better than thus far had proven for him. While he might have hoped to irritate her, it hadn't succeeded as well as hoped for. True, few probably wished to annoy others but Ranko knew it was the only way he would receive the attention that would allow for him to act on. If it was an act of defiance, it would be all the better as it seemed that was the only time she took him seriously anyway.

His thoughts are pulled away as Tempest vocalizes her distaste in his presence. With furrowed eyebrows, he watches on even as she claims he's cursed her dreams at some point. For once, there was pity in his brown eyes when she sat up with her complaints being aired at long last. There was no intention to cause that sort of distress to Tempest at all. Were it possible, he would have apologized. Unfortunately, there was no chance of that and he had no choice but to move and sit on the coffee table opposite her and wait for her to move her hands and see the note of it on the whiteboard in his own.

tagged: tenko. words: 511. notes: he is apologizing, tempest.

SARAH LOVES ME ♥

[tempest pryde]

It's so bizarre, feeling her heart thump about in her chest like this when she's not even particularly winded. In fact, she's been lying down on the couch for a while and nothing should be wrong with her. She wonders briefly if it's her new heart playing up, but it can't be because there's no pain associated with this, simply turmoil. Confusion. The feeling of being useless in one's own skin mixed in with all of that, and it left her with her head in her hands. She doesn't move as Ranko approaches and sets himself down in front of her, and she doesn't want to know what's on the board. Probably something else that's going to make her feel even worse than she already does. At least, she supposes, she can count on him to kick her while she's down. That and she can generally always count on coming home to a cup of coffee. But none of this really matters to her any more, because those pesky things called emotions have gone and swept them out the window. It's all this big, thudding tangle in her chest and she can't take it any longer.

She reacts as would be predicted by most who knew her. First in anger as she looks up, and her hand goes flying once more, circling in towards his face. Maybe he won't be quick enough this time, but most of her hopes he will be. She doesn't actually want to hurt him, she just wants to make it past that barrier. She wants to mean something to him, even if it is just him hating her. She wants him to react, even though she's seen the apology scrawled on the board. It's an empty one, really, doesn't mean anything to her because he rarely shows her anything more than that infuriating smirk. So, this slap, much like the other one, is her telling him that she wants to be heard in not-so-many-words. It's her frustration and her declaration that she simply can't take this for much longer. One of them had to reach breaking point eventually, and so here she is, going in for the second slap in so many weeks.

Tempest has been breaking for a while now, although she'd like to think she was holding everything together just fine, thank you very much. The cracks have been easy enough to see from the point of view of someone who's been living with her day in and day out. She's easy enough to provoke if you set your mind to it and act with intelligence, and it seems as though Ranko's managed to do just that. Flung together, a drug addict and a tongue less man throw words and now open hands at one another, attempting to sound out their bizarre relationship and figure out their own standing within it.

Words: 478 -- She's ignoring the apology, Ranko. Kind of.

i was wondering if we got that real soul you know that thing we cannot trade or ever own took a step to the left took a step to the right saw myself and it wasn't quite right -----------------------------

Ebz

[ranko bronimer]

i really need to do things right.

It might have been possible that Ranko was trying a bit too hard to tick Tempest off. While it could become a habit that was harder to break than people might think, part of him recognized he could get away with it. Although it crudely toyed with her apparent feelings, Ranko had taken precautions to not jab too deeply at them. There was a difference between being playful and being downright mean and he liked to think his pokes and prods of various amounts to be almost endearing. Almost. He'd been taking his sweet time in thinking over their situation and recognized Tempest's arguments as valid. It was wrong in the eyes of her teachings, in his own beliefs, and the both of them mirrored the views of the society they lived in. It was inevitable that they would come to their conclusions but such things also needed to be given proper evidence to support their theories. Society could say a number of different things that people took varying opinions on so why couldn't this be another echo of the variants that came with being human and how they interacted with one another. Ranko's own thoughts had yet to be revealed and Tempest seemed to believe he'd ultimately rejected her. He may have been guilty of a number of things but rejection was not at the top of his list. In reality, it was simply the opportunity to think more and develop his opinion more thoroughly that was necessary before he came to his final decision.

Things take a turn in the direction he'd hoped would be followed if he egged her on enough as she again tried to raise a hand to him. His hand again finds her wrist but rather than forcing it back to her side, Ranko instead pulls Tempest forward and kisses her much like the time she'd pulled him over in the hallway. It's his ultimate decision that society could take a backseat to whatever it was they had cultivated while they chose to explore it or not. In his mind, it would probably be touch and go as neither of them knew what would happen or the true extent of their feelings for one another. Yet, Ranko was willing to go out on the ledge and look over at the possibilities. It was better to have seen what might have been than left it as a complete mystery and he was acquiescing to the thought he'd initially taken from Tempest's actions. His fingers tucked a stray strand of Tempest's hair behind her ear more prepared for her retaliation than she might have known. For one, he'd made it a point to anger her only to follow it with the kiss and secondly, mixed signals were something no one appreciated. He'd liked the banter and had taken it lightly but not everyone always did.

tagged: tenko. words: 479. notes: this is what happens when we let ranko run around with the grenade. the troll.

SARAH LOVES ME ♥

[tempest pryde]

He’d dragged her through all of that, and then he’d kissed her. His actions warranted a lot more than what she gave him for them in the end, but somehow that one kiss had slaked half her anger and she ended up smacking her fist halfheartedly into his chest as she withdrew just barely after their first kiss, and then kissed him back. It was a fierce kiss that he got in return, almost savage, untrained and needy all at once. Her fist, boring into his chest, opens and then closes again, snagging a handful of clothing for its efforts and drew herself closer to him, almost as if she were using him as an anchor. She felt his touch through the length of her body, as if it were a jolt of electricity when in reality it was simply him brushing a strand of hair into place. A little gesture, but strangely one that meant just as much as his kiss. A part of her felt free, almost, although when she drew back from the kiss, breathless, she was not wordless. ”Why? Why’d you do that?” was put forth in an accusatory tone, those steely eyes placed willfully on his, searching for an answer when perhaps she wasn’t going to get one.

She forgot, for a moment, that he couldn’t talk, and then shook her head briefly. ”I don’t want to know. Not now.” And that was it, the end of her anger for the time being. Strangely, she seemed appeased. Calm, if you could call it that when really under the surface she was awash with emotion. It had long been her stronghold to hide behind an emotionless mask, but this mask she wore was different. It was almost - almost a smile, that falters as she looks at her other hand, its wrist still held firmly by his fingers. ”I am sorry about that,” she murmurs finally, looking back up at him and facing him. He deserves an apology, and probably a lot more than the way she treats him or has been treating him for the last week. ”I shouldn’t have. I was wrong.”

Words: 358 – An apology?!

i was wondering if we got that real soul you know that thing we cannot trade or ever own took a step to the left took a step to the right saw myself and it wasn't quite right -----------------------------

Ebz

[ranko bronimer]

i really need to do things right.

Whatever reaction he'd been expecting, it wasn't completely what he received - although, he wouldn't necessarily complain about it either. He'd have to get rid of the wrinkles she cause in his shirt when it would wind up in the wash but it wasn't to say he didn't find it amusing. Her enthusiasm was something he hadn't seen the full extent of as his thoughts were again pulled under as Tempest kissed him right back. The truth was, Ranko was still absorbing bits and pieces of the events as they flashed by rather than slowed down like so many had rumored would happen. If only it had been the latter as he wouldn't have been left in a slight daze as she pulled away and queried for why he had done it. Wasn't it obvious? He had a bit of a fancy for her after enough deliberation for the past few days and he now aimed to reciprocate it as best he could. However, if he hadn't tried to make it a statement, she would have taken it as submission and bending to her will in the end. She might think she was his boss but it only went so far to the bare minimum obligations he held. She did not own his mind nor his body regardless of what a slip of paper said and he would remind her of that until his service had ended. It might require him refraining from her orders a time or two but it was a necessity nonetheless that would have to be fulfilled if he wished to keep any sort of dignity as another human being rather than a prop as so many in the Capitol liked to use them as.

At least she dropped the conversation before giving him time to formulate an answer. Ranko glanced at her wrist and let his fingers release their grip belatedly. Though the apology wasn't necessary, it was almost sentimental from the sounds of it as he shrugged it off with a thin lip smile. He deserved it in a way for playing games like that but how else would it have been convincing? Unsure of where it left them, Ranko moved from the coffee table to the couch where he reclined easily into the cushions. If he had been in her position, he wouldn't have had the same gall to be making the inquiries but there was certainly a difference between the pair. Where she spoke, he was silent, where she relaxed, he worked. The differences were enough to give him second thought in exactly how worth it any prodding into it could be but there was little to deter him from seeing where it might go. If things went south, at least he could remain silent and indifferent like so many times she'd accused him of being.

tagged: tenko. words: 474. notes: sorry tis short. :c

SARAH LOVES ME ♥

[tempest pryde]

He settles onto the couch beside her, leaning back into the cushions and making himself comfortable but she can't bring herself to lean back, not just yet. She rubs at her closed eyes with the heels of her palms, grinding them in as if she's trying to wake herself up, trying to prove to herself this isn't a dream or some kind of sick illusion. Maybe her mind's finally following her heart and it's cracking wide open, fissuring and failing as she lives and breathes. There's no pain, though, not this time around, and she finally stops pressing her knuckles into her eyes and looks up, staring out over the coffee table and to the large bay windows beyond that give out onto her small backyard. It's not a big house, not really, but it's something and it's hers. She's happy enough to share it with Ranko, though, because at times it feels so big - too big. Fyfe clicks lazily back over to the couch and snuffles at her ankle, her wet nose sliding over the leather of Tempest's tall boot and the young woman murmurs something inaudible to the dog before she begins to unlace her boots, slowly working at them as she thinks recent events over.

Eventually she draws her feet from the boots, tugging them from the tight confines, then picks Fyfe up and sets her on the couch beside her, where the dog settles alongside her thigh. She leans back slowly, easing herself into the cushions much as Ranko did. Her head falls sideways and she rests it gently on Ranko's shoulder as she closes her eyes. "I'm so tired," she says quietly. "You have no idea how tiring it is trying to avoid you." Slowly, taking care not to jostle Fyfe too much, she draws her legs up to her chest and wraps her arms about her knees. Her movements are careful and measured but ridden by fatigue, slow but deliberate almost as if she doesn't want to startle him - or perhaps that she doesn't want to startle herself. Like she still thinks maybe he's going to turn around and laugh silently at her for falling for it, or perhaps he's just going to disappear or reject her outright. Maybe that kiss was from pity, or he's still tugging her along like a toy on a string. Whatever it is, she doesn't want to get hurt again, she's too tired to put up a defense to save herself.

Words: 415 – An apology?!

i was wondering if we got that real soul you know that thing we cannot trade or ever own took a step to the left took a step to the right saw myself and it wasn't quite right -----------------------------

Ebz

[ranko bronimer]

i really need to do things right.

Where Tempest was looking out towards the small backyard, Ranko’s eyes were unfocused towards the floor. His thoughts were elsewhere after she had opted not to order his immediate death, which was more comforting than he had realized. He may have felt that he would pick up the helmet to once again work for the benefit of Panem but his return to the force – even though he knew it wasn’t an option – would have aided in finding one of his sisters. His family had never been tightknit but part of his training all those years ago had engrained in him a sense that he owed it to them to hold no grudges. Each of his sisters was still a total stranger as they had been since youth and knowing what was going on in their lives no matter how vague was of minimal comfort for Ranko to know they were doing well.

She’s looking out to the backyard and Ranko watches as she pulls off her boots and picks her dog up for the couch. Whether Tempest realized it or not, she was more flexible than she might initially think with having allowed him to bring the dogs into her life to begin with. Sure, she had been in a rather vulnerable position at the time, but the dogs had left their impact by seeming to brighten her days at least a little bit. A smirk remains on his face as she comments of him being tiring and his arm shifts to be around the back of the couch for her to lean back on. He hadn’t given her a proper reason to trust him outside of having saved her life a time or two and quite frankly, he was still on the fence of whether she’d be turning on him as well. It was hardly a basis for a relationship to bloom – if either of them even wanted one that is. Caution never led to anything brilliant or offered much in the way of aiding that but Ranko had never been a fan of taking a leap before he knew the most probable outcome.

Offering his shoulder as a viable option for leaning against, Ranko was content to leave things as they were. Surely he would wind up paying for it if he tried much else after having taken the trouble to irritate Tempest as much as he had. A smirk was plain on his face when learning he had gotten under her skin. She wasn’t the only one who had fallen victim to the other. She might not have realized it but Ranko had been taking extra time to do small things without her knowledge such as the arrival of her favorite flower almost always in a vase on the end of the counter. For so long, both had been trained with the idea that they should never break face, appear unmovable. But it seemed for the moment at least they could both let down their guard and take a few precious seconds to not wear their masks for the rest of Panem but relish in making a connection at all with another human being.

tagged: tenko. words: 527. notes: dare i say this tag is ended and on to the fight thread? :3

SARAH LOVES ME ♥