poly_chromatic | (no subject)

Current Location: passione

Entry tags:

the hunger games - cinna

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[There's a crash and a giant paw obscures the view for a moment before it's replaced by a black nose attached to puppy. With devilish doggie delight the device disappears into the puppy's maw as the puppy runs away.]

No! Don't - that's not a... toy thing!

[It's hard to tell from the inside of a dog's mouth, but it sounds like there's running involved.]

Not into the shop - the shoes... Someone catch that dog!

[Suddenly you can see again as the puppy barks, dropping the device and running off, Cinna's neat and immaculately cared for shoes run after it.]

[ooc: Open to anything and everything, even action of you feel like helping Cinna corral his new puppy in the shop. BRING IT.]

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[And he doesn't have to. Call it a little selfish of her, but she only stopped by to see him so far. She isn't about to share the little bit of time they have together.]

It doesn't matter. It hurt and I know it.

[Angela may not have had any control over when she left, but she has some control over how she responds to it. The only thing she can and will do is apologize for unintentionally being the one that left him with that grief.]

You're here now, makes it all better.

[Which is a lie, but one he's willing to tell. The pain will return, his apartment will feel empty again and he will go one. He endures.

Entering the office, he sets the puppy on the floor where it scampers off to the little bed he has set up in the corner with some toys.]

[And he shouldn't have to; no one should, but Angela is powerless to stop it. They all are.

Now in his office, she takes a moment to glance around to see if there are any changes to the place, but after a few seconds Angela gives up and start looking at only him. Whatever else is around her doesn't matter.]

You know what I want to ask you. [Did you find somebody else? Are you happy? How can I fix your sadness?]

[The only change is the puppy and the drawings scattered around are of spring fashions instead of winter and fall.]

Ask me anyway.

[Once he's certain the puppy is occupied, he can focus on her, leaning on the edge of his desk and crossing his arms over his chest. It's defensive, but he can't help it. Meanwhile, his eyes just take her in, the crinkles around her eyes from smiling, the wayward curls, the elegant lines of her body, all of it just as he remembers.]

[Angela can see the defensive stance and can't really blame him for it. She came into his life like a whirlwind, left like one, and came back in all the same. But she won't dare invade his personal space as long as he has that body language, so she moves to sit on the couch, casually but not too much. With her leg tugged underneath her, she purses her lips before asking.]

Are you dating again?

No. I've been too busy.

[Doing what he always does, losing himself in his work, burying the pain in brilliant color and cut. Whatever else happens, the spring line will be stupendous.

Meanwhile, he can't bear to see her sitting over there alone so he moves to sit next to her, one arm slung over the back of the couch and the other on his knee. He doesn't know how to do this, no one's explained it to him.]

I still have some of your paints and canvasses, a few odds and ends. I gave the rest to your friends or the Welcome Center, but you'll have things to wear the next few days if you need them.

[That's probably the answer she was most afraid of. Granted, she wouldn't be overjoyed knowing he'd found somebody else just because Angela is human and liable to have feelings, but she knows that Cinna will work himself to death if he could just to avoid dealing with things. One is really better than the other.

Scooting over to make room for him, Angela falls quiet for a few seconds as her fingers spiderwalk across his arm.]

You're not happy.

[It's obvious, given that no one is happy in the City, but still. Angela can't deny it. His comfort is more important than a change of clothes or where her belongings went.]

Almost every person I cared for disappeared in a matter of weeks, Angela, even I can't bury all of that overnight.

[He catches the crawling fingers and presses them to his lips. It seems she still uses the same hand creme and the scent of it fills his nose.]

I know.

[Angela bite backs the apology that's fighting to come out. It won't help. All she can give him is a guarantee that she hasn't changed in the time she's been gone. For her, it's only been a few months in which things have happened, but nothing that involves him or her feelings for him. This much is sure as she moves her hand to stroke his jawline, remembering the way his bones lie just underneath his warm skin.]

I hate that you're alone.

[It's easy to pretend. To close his eyes and pretend that she'll still be here when the weekend's passed. But he's seen too many of these days come and go to truly believe it. Still, he tries. Narrowing his focus to the familiar touch of her hand.]

I'm not alone now.

I'll try to stay as long as I can.

[Truly, she knows the length of her visit isn't up to her, but it's nice to pretend, if only for a little while. Nothing ever stays the same so Angela's going to take this moment for what it is.

She sighs softly, letting her hand slip into his hair, fingers rubbing along his scalp in the way she always did. It gives her just enough leverage to tug him gently towards her for a kiss, deep and soul-satisfying.]

At least this time I can say good-bye.

[The moment she pulls him close it's like a dam's broken and even though he knows he shouldn't, he pulls her tight, perhaps even going so far as to pull her onto his lap. He wants to be surrounded by her, one more memory to hold onto.]

[Like the dam, Angela breaks too, giving into the push and pull that lands her right on his lap with her legs bent to his sides. It's a bad idea, to give herself to him one more time, but Angela is the queen of bad ideas that feel so good. She can't forget how he made her feel all those times, skin to skin, heart to heart. He's still her drug and she's still his addict.

However long it's been doesn't matter. She falls into step like she never forgot, hands in his hair, teeth nipping at his lower lip in between whispers of apologies and his name.]

[It's raw in a way he's not used to, almost like Angela's party, but worse because instead of being afraid he was going to lose her, he knows he is. This is all they have for as long as they have it and he's holding on with an intensity he can't hold back, fingers finding the skin of her back as he steals a breath in-between kisses.]

Stay with me. [He's not asking.] Until you leave, stay with me.

[There's a sense of desperation coming from her, one very few have ever witnessed and one she's definitely never showed to him before now. It's not coming from a physical need for sex, but a need to try and hold onto this fleeting moment. It's so much very not like Angela usually, but she knows that when she does leave, so will her memory of him and she won't even have that to keep her company. The pain is palpable and she can't control the tears in her eyes, knowing that they're both hurting themselves like this but enjoying it at the same time. She pulls back from his mouth and leans their foreheads together, taking a shaky breath to steady herself before answering, tears sliding down her cheeks.]

Always.

[It's the only promise she can really keep.]

[He uses his thumbs to wipe the tears away, following each with a kiss, one cheek, then the other, finishing with a deep kiss, his mouth capturing hers with a little less intensity, but no lessening of his desire. Something she's probably noticed, sitting astride him as she was.

They should wait. They should go home, they should do anything but what they're doing, but even as he was having those thoughts his hands were back on her body. They slid under the edges of her shirt, almost shaking as he slid them over her skin, slowly revealed. They should wait, but they're not going to."

[She's noticed. It's a reminder of what she had, no pun intended, and what she shouldn't have now because it won't end well for either one of them. But with his hands trembling slightly against her skin, teasing her nerve endings into sparks, Angela can't tear herself away. There's no way she'll pull her hands off of him, not even when they feel like they're running on a mind of their own as she unbuttons his shirt. His skin is bared to her where it's easy for her to drag her tongue across, tasting every bit of him and marking it to a soon to be lost memory.]

[He stifles a groan as the heat of her mouth closes on his flesh and his fingers tighten on her hips as he hoarsely whispers her name. He keeps pulling at her top, trying to remove it, wanting to feel and caress and see every inch of her before the sight leaves him. There's nothing for it, nothing he can do to stop the rising tide before it consumes them both.]

[Her name said in a way she hasn't heard for months sends a chill down her spine and it has her shivering in his arms as she pulls back a few inches. It's just to get that damned clothing out of the way; she has no intention on stopping now. The blouse is tugged over her head and thrown to the floor without a care as Angela surges back against him, pressing their mouths together as if she can't breathe and he's the only thing keeping her from death.]

[Cinna doesn't see it, but the puppy pads over to claim the shirt as his, taking it over to his bed to add it to the soft nest he's created. Cinna will owe her a new one.

For his part, there's nothing in the room except for Angela, and with the blouse removed, he makes short work of her bra as they kiss. There's little style in it, no tease of removal, just the swift slide of lace over skin and the warmth of her breasts, palmed by his sensitive hands. His kisses begin to trail down her neck and along her collarbone even as he shifts his hips upwards a little in a slow grind.]

[The fact that they have a small audience is lost on Angela who tips her head back to give Cinna more room to work with. She's dying to get more of his skin bared to her, but her hands cover his, guiding his thumbs to brush over her stiff nipples. It's a little selfish of her, taking her pleasure instead of giving him his, but it's just for a few seconds, just for a few seconds of taking what she'll never have again.]

[What she took for selfishness, he took for a miracle. Every sound she made, every breath in his ear ripped right through him. They were all things he had locked away, tried not to think about and yet here he is, back again. With a low grunt, he picks her up and pivots, laying her down on the sofa so he can kiss his way down her body again, paying special attention to those hard nipples he'd had his hands on a moment ago.]

[She gives a gasp that turns into a giggle and then a soft moan when he shifts upwards and suddenly he's on top, warm tongue on her breasts. It's easier this way, actually, easier to push his unbuttoned shirt down his arms and for Angela to slide her hands between them to grip him through his pants. She's gentle but firm, squeezing and rubbing to tease and tempt him, forcing her patience to the limit. Angela wants him. Angela needs him. But they have time, the rest of the day at the very least. She needs to make this last.]

[He tosses the shirt aside, another prize for the puppy to claim, but he doesn't realize it. All his attention is on Angela's wandering hand and the groan that escapes him as she teases him. He's beyond hard and throbbing and he can't help but press into her touch, the only one he's had save his own since she left him. With a slightly hissed curse, he starts to work at her waist, unfastening the last bits of clothing she's wearing so he can slide his hand inside and tease her right back.]

[In her head, Angela's sending a thank you prayer above that she made the decision to wear a pair of pants with a easy zip because if she had to suffer through a fight just to get his touch, she would have gone mad. But instead of going mad, she goes rigid with pleasure as his hand sets off nerves she almost forgot she had. A breath is caught in her throat and it only manages to come out in a tumble of nonsensical syllables and his name. Her fingers dig into his thighs as she holds on for just a bit longer.

It's unbelievable how close she is, how wet and ready she is for him.]

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