poly_chromatic

Entry tags:

oc - saya wallace

audio;

I don't wear T-shirts.

[She does not sound pleased]

This one doesn't match anything. I will not be coming in today. Shop is closed. Go somewhere else.

The City could at least make this curse stylish.

[ooc: she won't be seeing anyone in person today because her shirt reads: I killed my father and ate him and all I got was this lousy t-shirt.]

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Yes you do. [His face twitches with the tickle of it, nose wrinkling, eyelids twitching. One hand reaches up gently to try and chase the itch.] Discomfort.

[It flees back onto Saya's skin, skittering up her arm, her neck, to the base of her skull.]

I understand the concept. But I don't feel it. I don't feel much. That should be my great secret. That I feel something.

[That I feel something for my brother. That I feel something for you. She's not sure what it is, and she doesn't really want to know.]

I think that might be your great double bluff.

[Robbed of the pursuit, he reaches to find her shoulder, always a little warmer than she should be against him. From there the angles and outlines of her collarbone are easily traceable.]

Do you think so? It's considered a weakness. To feel. An embarassment.

I don't care about anyone else. What makes you special?

Not to anyone else here, which is why you take such an interest in knowing how to pretend.

[But then he falls silent, eventually letting both hands come together at the hem of her shirt, fingers curling into the cotton.]

I can't answer that one for you.

I have to blend in. It's disguise. It's protection.

[She slips out of her shirt, so she's just in her bra, her necklaces clinking against each other.]

I-

[But then he thinks better of whatever was on his tongue to say, and he leans in a little, guided by the sound.]

What time is it?

Past midnight.

[He opens one eye, then the other. Beneath the scrubs top his shirt has returned to long sleeved, faded green.]

How long - [Against her mouth.] were you planning on keeping me in the dark?

I don't know. Do you want me to turn on a light?

[She kisses him back, her hands going from his face to his hair.]

You can do. [His nose nudges hers.] I've got a present for you.

Show me.

[It takes a moment but then the light turns on, and a spider skitters back to her leg]

[His mouth takes on a faintly wicked quirk as he pulls off the blue scrub top, then the green beneath. It's thin with age and says ST KILDA SPORTS CLUB over a golden crest. He's also been wearing it, in one form or another, for just over twenty four hours straight.

It's handed over reverently.]

This isn't your secret.

[She's already brought it up to her nose, taking a breath of it, the scent of his skin]

My secret wouldn't be much of a present.

[Interesting reaction. He leans back to watch.]

I'm not interested in your secret.

[She pulls it over her head, it frames how small she actually is. Her shoes give her height but she's not all that tall]

I've never been certain whether you already knew.

[And it doesn't sound as though it's too important.]

There.

I probably do.

[She reaches behind her and takes off her bra from under his shirt, and pulls it through a sleeve, then sits on her bed, legs crossing, knees bent. She looks almost undone, different from her usual appearance.]

[He is certain that if she did, she wouldn't care.

(She looks a lot like a girl he hung out with on the city beach this one time.)]

Incontrovertible proof, if it was ever needed, that you look good in a t-shirt.

[That one perhaps has an advantage on any other. Particularly the crumpled cast off lying by the side of the bed when he kneels to move across the bed to her.]

[She just looks up at him, and gives him a half-smile]

You look better without one.

That had better not be a comment on my dress sense.

[Gentle teasing.]

Thank you, for telling me your secret. The important one.

No. It's a comment on your body. I like it.

[She pauses, and stretches]

well, I know where to find you, if someone else speaks it.

I'm not sixteen, I don't need to call all my friends because a girl said she likes me.

[He can't even be sure it's a good thing, except that it feels like one and humans have a terrible habit of doing what feels good.

She feels good.]

Is that why all the boys in my school started calling me? Because I slept with one of them?

I said liked, not jumped. [They both know that part of their relationship is more Chase's secret.] I didn't sleep with anyone until I was practically twenty. And I didn't have to make the calls to be sure everyone knew about it.

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