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.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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.

[She considers this.]

I lost my virginity when I was fifteen. After the change. Before I was a bit more restrained.

Was he human?

Yes. They're almost always human.

[She undoes her jeans and tugs them down over her hips, and folds them at the edge of the bed.]

Fifteen's not that unrestrained.

[Of course she folds them. He kneels up to meet her when she's done, no more than making body contact, though his focus when he looks down at her is a little hazy.]

It's usual, isn't it?

[She touches his sides, his stomach]

By fifteen everyone's either interested or pretending they're interested. That's why all the boys started calling you.

[His palms skim the backs of her thighs.]

Probably a few other reasons.

[She nudges herself forward a little]

I was a skinny thing. Only three years out of Africa, I still had a pronounced accent.

You're assuming men are fussy.

[He'd get rid of the underwear but quite likes working his way around it, slipping fingers under the fabric.]

No tits.

Men like tits.

[She spreads her legs just a little, just enough, her fingers against his skin]

[So accommodating. And here they are just chatting.]

Ever seen Kate Moss?

[Or his ex wife, or that cheerleader he used to know?]

Kate Moss looks like a skeleton.

[She's not going to show him her tits though. She's keeping his shirt on]

But I'll accept that I was just easy. I had another secret, too.

[She leans over to nip his ear]

I couldn't control my pheromone.

[It's fine by him. He's remarkably good at working blind, as one hand demonstrates, memory mapping her body and a degree of creativity kicking in to compensate.]

That sounds like an accident waiting to happen.

I'm stronger than any human. It wasn't so bad.

[Well. For her. She's definitely responding to his touch, though, moving her hips a little]

Do you like the challenge of cloth?

I was going to say [Much earlier, when she'd talked about protecting herself.] I wouldn't let anyone hurt you.

I like a lot of things. [He presses the fabric of her underwear between her legs until it's tight against her, then works his thumb over the wet cloth] Do you like friction?

audio;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;