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alitheamateur · 5 years

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The Grind-Chapter 21

Warnings: Angst. Language. Mentions of actions related to a sexual nature.

A/N: Since I punished you all with that painfully short chapter yesterday, I felt it only right not to make you wait for this load of story. Buckle down kids, this is a lengthy bit!

The tense way our bodies snuggled to each other as we traveled now down a quieter four lane highway, was an immensely warm consummation I had grown addictively accustom to. Occasionally, he’d drop one hand from steering the bike to pet over my arms clutched to his waist, stroking a thumb to the skin he found there. I smiled in secret at the chills that arose at his feverish, yet boyish touch, knowing he was smiling himself at the reaction his contact triggered. The greenery and much clearer air, free of the industrial, city smog, painted a storybook picturesque view of rural Pittsburgh. Where in the blazes could he be dragging me? Not saying the lushness of the apparent countryside didn’t lull me into a satisfactory coma of contentment at the slight similarities I found of Westfield.

I saw his wrist twitch letting off the accelerator, and our speed decreased turning near a lot with a simple painted sign reading “Duquesne Inlcine.” The location seemed maybe vaguely familiar, like I’d heard it mentioned in a passing conversation sometime or another, but I couldn’t say I was properly acquainted. The vast variety of parking was well, strangely a ghost town. The weather was sheer sunshine perfection, it was the weekend, so where were all the people? He pulled off his helmet, revealing the heat of the sun that had been trapped around his head causing his locks to appear spritzed with sweat, and a whimper of surprise at his exterior escaped me. Was I ever going to grow suitably acclimated with just how gloriously handsome he was in entirety? Judging by the current timeline of events, he would only grow more attractive with age, and I would become even more vulnerable to his refined features. Time was on his side, and only a mere year or so had passed since I’d seen him up close. Only now, that particular day, his eyes weren’t nearly as bright with blue, and their usual glint absent when I looked deeper. Was he... nervous?

“Bet no one has drug you up here since you moved?” He shook my ears to attention.

“You’ve got me there. Where, where are we exacty?” I returned his question with one of my own, pulling off the helmet. Silently praying my hair wasn’t as out of place as the ones his head. Messy, tangled bedhead wasn’t a look that suited me as it did him. Why are you staring, Liv. You’ve seen the man naked and you’re shook up by some disheveled hair? Get laid, you pathetic hag.

“Ya’ gonna love it, Livvy,” his accent making me smile serenely. It appeared to thicken under three particular emotions: excitement, anger, and.. arousal. Three emotions that the brash drawl worked with ever so dangerously perfect.

“Colt, hey, uhm, where is everyone though? Like where is anybody actually?” He only let go of my hand to graciously hold a door open before returning the smile to a young man behind a counter in the lobby. He was younger than Colton and myself, only by a few years, and had a build similar, however much less intimidating to my date for the day.

“Allen, how are ya, you little shit?” Colton’s hand was settled around my waist squeezing lightly over my hip as he addressed the kind leer of this Allan character standing at a register. They shook hands briefly, and I felt oddly like an intruding bystander gawking about while the two men exchanged hellos.

“I’m not doing too bad, Ritter. Not as good as you clearly, beating all those asses in the cage these days.” He complimented in a congratulatory, yet envious voice.

“Don’t even start, bro. You been doin’ damn good for yourself, I ain’t blind.” Colt argued. “Hey, this is Liv, by the way, Al,” he winked at me with is introduction.

“Very nice to meet you, Allen. Clearly you guys know each other?” I giggled gesturing a handshake over the counter to his accepting palm, still utterly clueless to what we were indeed doing here.

“Yeah, babe. Allen’s a fighter too, I busted him a couple times when we were first starting out.” I saw him side eye towards his friend gauging a reaction to his snide comments. “His his family runs the place here, so I called in a favor with an old friend to bring ya’ here.”

“Smug bigshot here rented the place out for you, Liv. What the hell do ya’ have on ‘em?” Allen burst out quickly, then lost his smile once realizing that little detail may have been intended to remain a secret.

I lifted a hand to tug at Colton, my eyes yielding a flood of gratitude, confusion, flattery, reserve at how much this ordeal had to have cost him, and scolding him for going to such unnecessary, yet deeply appreciated lengths.

“Let’s go, babe. C’mon I wanna show you what were doin.” His own hand outreached to touch my reddening cheek with his battered knuckles.

I followed to a windowpane, gazing out to discover a machine resembling some sort of cable car, tucked carefully into the tree sprinkled hillside. Then, farther left, trailing down the funicular built to carry the car, the wide spans of what seemed to be the entire south side of Pittsburgh was nestled comfortably inside the bosom of the Ohio River. My cheerful face began to hurt from the extended upturning of my expression. Hot rays of the sun were gleaming reflections off the rippling water, whose color closely resembled the one in the eyes I felt staring at me from the back.

“OK, it’s ridiculously beautiful up here, Colton. God!”

“You like it, do ya’? Just wait till you see it all from the trolley. Dad used to bring me here every year for the 4th of July so we could see all the fireworks around the city.” He nodded to his right, indicating we take our places so he could show me the view he so apparently loves of his city.

The motor operated car doors slid open in unison reveling a wicker basket placed alone in the center of the empty box lined with seats. The lid of the picnic basket closed, displaying a ribbon tied bundle of pink peonies, of course. This batch however more conservative than the hefty dozens from my birthday. He thankfully read my mind, carefully stepping up behind to take me into his warm embrace, resting his prominent chin on the shoulder next to my ear.

“Whaddya think, Livvy?” His hot question shivered down my neck. Literally hot, his own breaths nearly incinerated my eardrum like some sort of well-trained dragon. The pattering of his pumping heart in the middle of my back was like the unsung lullaby I never knew I needed. I almost internally feel the cadence of my own heart catch up to sync with Colton’s.

Kiss him. Now. RIGHT NOW. Who needs pride anyway?

I loved and feared all the same the effect he had on me always. A new emotion enraptured me every time he was near, each more overwhelming than the last, and I felt him willing me to lose control. But, the pangs of heartbreak seized a friendly reminder when I felt I’d give in to those wet, desirable lips, and I held off. For now.

“You did.. ok, I guess,” I shrugged fighting to remain stern, stifling a smile behind cherry flavored lips.

“Damn, tough crowd. Ya’ little critic.” The man huffed out with an exaggerated roll of his smiling eyes. “Well, it worked for all those other girls I brought up here….”

Counter, Colton Ritter. Two could play those games, seemingly.

I threw a rear jab with my elbow to his still closely pressed abdomen, choking a goofy giggle of pain, and pleasure. He loves any fiery reaction he suck out of me.

“Easy there, slugger. I’m kiddin’. You know that!” He defended lowly. “Besides, you know there’s only one particular green-eyed girl I have eyes for.”

My God. Usually, that sickeningly, derivative come on would’ve sent me gagging a mile in the opposite direction, running for the hills around me. But, things I normally viewed as stupid, and cheesy, and even.. unintelligent coming from most, made me feel so utterly warm with affection coming from him. I think it’s because I know when they come from his particular mouth, they’re genuine. He doesn’t have a plethora of douchebag pick-up lines tucked away in the rolodex of his mind. He’s never needed it. Girls crumbled at his very feet, which was much, MUCH to my dismay. I can’t recall how many times precisely that I worked myself into a jealous frenzy over some harlot trouncing her perky bust brazenly under his nose, grasping for one lingering look from him.

“So, what’s for lunch then? My breakfast is wearing off.” I inquired as I slowly walked around the empty car, mentally tucking away snapshots of this utterly astounding view resembling something from a post card.

We ate quietly seated next to each other towards the front of the car, the Pittsburgh skyline painting a backdrop of pure beauty. Colton had kept it simple with his picnic basket, stuffing it with fresh fruits, some light sandwiches, and much to my satisfaction, a stockpile of my favorite truffles from the bakery neighboring The Grind. He had the memory of an elephant.

When he had pulled out the stashed box of dark chocolates from the bottom of the basket, he giggled with a shaken head at the child-like gasps and eager hand claps from me, instantly recognizing the golden, polka dot box. I still wanted to kiss him. Deeply, kiss him. The desire to do so hadn’t subsided a single inkling since his arrival to retrieve me. Matter of fact, it probably tripled. And the unintentional, habitual way he always licked that perfect pink lower lip of his after pulling it between his top row of teeth was only persecuting me all the more. I want to bite that lip. Let me! let me do it!

“Thank you, Livvy babe.” He chimed randomly, shocking me from the salacious thoughts of him that were currently running on an endless loop in my head.

“For what, exactly?” Tucking the third truffe shamelessly in my mouth. “I should be the one thanking you. For all this..”

“Thank you for agreeing to come with me today. Ya’ didn’t have to, and honestly I didn’t fuckin’ deserve it.” His head dropped and his hand went to the back of his head, a worrisome practice of his own, I’d noticed.

I couldn’t bare the weighted sadness shown over his tightly drawn in mouth. A year ago, maybe. Maybe it would’ve felt like a sweet reward of revenge, after the hasty, crushing things he said to me. But now, it was like a bullet wound festering through my belly. Why couldn’t he see what I see in him? Yes, he is violent. Yes, he’s very much possessive and crude, and sometimes demented with anger, but he’s much more. I see his kindness, the genuinely raw way that he’s so ferociously protective over those he cares for. Colton is intelligent, he’s fearless, he’s the most brutally dedicated man to his career. Maybe all too much. He was extremely gentle sometimes, too. So innocently, childishly so. Physically, and verbally as well, if the particular moment called for him to be so.

The other hand, he was darkly passionate, almost fearfully passionate at times, actually. And I do love those passionate moments. Damn it. But surely. Surely if he didn’t see all those interior, loveable characteristics I recognized, he had to know he was beautiful. He was a human being with color changing, blue/gray/green eyes, for goodness sake. He was picturesque sex, truly. The way he carried his shifty, built shoulders, and the way he always slid his hands in his pockets when he walked. Agonizingly accentuating his ink plastered biceps, the biceps that could probably crush steel beams in the company of Superman himself.

I took his hand, succumbing to my screaming desire to do so. “Colt, don’t. How long are you going to beat yourself up over it? I’ve forgiven you, okay? I have.”

“I’ll quit beatin’ myself up when everything is back to the way it fuckin’ should be!” He was growing frustrated internally the more we dwelt on the topic. “It shoulda never ended to begin with.” I felt his grip on my hand becoming tighter along with the tension of his jaws now. He wasn’t trying to hurt me, but it seemed his was molding his own hand to mine, afraid I would somehow vanish if he let go.

“Then.. why did it? Why’d you do it, Colton. YOU made that choice. Why?....”

He took a large, hesitated deep breath, like he was trying to inhale some imaginary courage floating through the air.

“For starters, I’m a brainless, ignorant twat, with shit for brains. And, it was the loss, Liv. I’m ashamed to say that I was blaming you for it. Or, I tried to blame you at least. I couldn’t man up and admit that Danny was just… better than me. I had to find some concrete excuse to caudle my pathetic fuckin’ ego.”

“That’s not fair, and you know it. I never pulled you away from your training, Colt. I would’ve liked to, yeah. But I wasn’t about to get in your way. I knew what the fight meant to you,” my voice was accidentally defensive.

“And I know that now. Hell, I knew it then, baby. I was just.. I don’t know.. God, Liv. I was just so in love with you. You made me mental, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I felt like I was losin’ control of myself.” His eyes said he wanted to touch my cheek, or kiss my forehead. I didn’t know what exactly, but it was clear the hand holding wasn’t dispersing his hunger for something.

“It was scary, babe. I understand that more than anyone else, Colton. The things you made me feel took the wind right out of me. Our love was a continual high, ya’ know? I’d be lying through my teeth if I tried to deny I don’t still feel that with you.” scooting closer to his tense body, I felt that sensation of heat radiate onto my clammy skin making me shudder.

“I wanted to come to you so many times. I wanted to crawl to your damn doorstep and grovel, babe. I would’ve, too. Pride aside, if I thought it woulda made a difference. But, the shit I said to you, Livvy? I knew you hated my guts, and I couldn’t take the idea of havin’ the door slammed in my fuckin’ face.”

“And what about now, hm? Is that groveling bit still on the table or?” I winked, taking a note from his book, using one of his favorite forms of defense.

“Say the word and I’ll drop to my knees, gorgeous.”

Could he hear my panting? Was I panting aloud right now? I didn’t let my hungry stare falter, never unlocking the heated eye contact. Please kiss me, God. I can’t take it anymore! Take my mouth right now.

I could sense my brows knitting as my mind shouted soundless pleas. I wouldn’t have the nerve to make the first move and seek out his kiss, would I? Plus, I needed him to cave first since it seemed he always had me at a seeming disadvantage. He needed to break first. Even the score, if you will.

“Tempting offer, Mr. Ritter. I think I might very much enjoy the site of you on your knees.”

WHAT THE HELL, LIV ELLIOTT? Who are you? Did that just come out of your modest mouth. You deviant.

He loosened the twining of our fingers, only to drop it to the inside of my bare thigh. His touch. There. Oh, we like that spot, yes. The next bold move left his mouth meeting mine in an unhurried, calculated fashion. The breezy grazes of his lips felt like the soft flutters of a butterfly’s wings. At first, he was frozen there, a warm, handsome statue molding his lips to me. Once he collected I wasn’t going to protest, he began to lick hungrily over the seal of my mouth, letting out a throaty, male growl when I accepted his entrance. One hand remained placed still on my thigh, the other now snaked to rest on my neck, willing me closer to his kiss. Our tongues danced together quite chaotically, the insatiable desire within the exchange was an emotion neither of us could control properly. Oh, and I bit him. Yep, just like the hot swell between the apex of my thighs told me to.

I had the middle of his shirt wrapped around my fist, clenching even tighter when I opened my eyes for a brief second to find his shining back at me. There was something so, erotic about it. He seemed to be committing the exchange to his memory. I’d never been kissed while glaring open-eyed in my partners watchful pupils, and for a moment I felt I should think it strange. But it was feverishly opposite. It’s incredibly sexy, and debilitating, and I want him to do it more often. Still, I was curious.

“What’s wrong? What is it?” I pulled away, noticing the wrinkled, stretched cotton on his shirt where I was heedfully tugging at him.

“I just can’t believe I have you. I can’t fuckin’ believe this is happenin’. I missed you, Liv. I really, really did.”

Sensory overload. In every manner of the phrase. He smelled of a pungent musk, like trees and sweat. Sweaty trees? The inside of his mouth was coated in the juices from the fresh pineapple he’d eaten with lunch, and it tingled when I swallowed it down. Oh, and strawberries too, maybe? Yes, definitely some strawberry. His lips were sleek like the most elaborate silks, and wet too, making them stick to mine ever so slightly when we parted. My heart, and the sensitive place between my legs fought to steal the stimulation from the other, and I still can’t tell you where the victory laid. How was that possible though? How did a man stimulate the emotions of the heart, and the sexual tension of my sex at the very same instant? Just from a kiss, mind you. I wanted to shed tears of unadulterated bliss, and mount the length between his legs in at same time, in unison.

“Colt, you know I missed you. It goes without saying. How do you just, sweep me back in like that?” I laughed, but it was a rippling clandestine of wonderment I genuinely wanted solved. I needed a concrete, logical, palatable explanation.

“Because you never left me, baby. Not really, y’ know?”

I did know, and apparently he had known it too, contrary to hiding away from him in my little corner of the city.

“You were gone, but I know you felt what I’ve felt over the last year. I know you had to wake up fuckin’ hysterical in the middle of the night because you dreamt about me, Liv.”

I had done exactly that. At least 10 times, I’m not sure though. I lost count. The heartbreak was ineffable and haunting. Why had we tortured ourselves living life without the other? Pride? Fear? Did he feel like he deserved some sort of punishment for hurting me? Hurting us? I wanted to talk now. It was my turn to chime in, to toss my hat in the ring. But, he just kept going. I opened my mouth to interject, and he’d cut me off.

“I’ve never wanted anything the way I want you, sweetheart. I’ve never needed anything but myself, and to hell with everythin’ else. But with you… fuck. I hate my life when you ain’t in it. And it’s all just fast, and it happened so soon too, y’ know. But, I’m so sick in love with you, Elliott.”

How can he make the work ‘fuck’ fit into any sentence like it was just a casual, common word in the English language like ‘hello’ or ‘blanket’? We should have a chat with him about his etiquette soon. Or should we? We might like that word.. Especially in the bedroom.

“Can I talk now, handsome? Care if I get a few words in?” I smiled and buttoned the tip of his nose. His perfect, straight nose. How did it seem to still be in tact? He literally got punched in the face for a living? Thank you, God for keeping that incredible face unscathed.

He heaved a sigh, like the words he’d spat out had drained him in some way. And they may very well have! This is the most he’s spoken since.. well… ever.

“Sorry, baby. Yeah, you go now.”

“I love you.”

He was obviously confused when only 3, one-syllable words came out of my mouth. His head tilted wearily to the left like a curious dog, and a haze passed through his eyes, but no words.

The sun had fallen lower now, some lights began to flicker down below us in the city as we rode the car continuously down, ad back up the track. Even though we had drawn close to the water likely a hundred times now, I still felt giddy each time we reached near the edge of shore.

“That’s all I know, and that’s all the matters, Colt. I love you, and I don’t want to be without you.”

I wasn’t this person. I had always been the type to be entirely exasperated at people who said things as such, I found it unrealistic and dramatic, yet there I was. Confessing I was lost without him next to me, and I wasn’t sure how I lived before he came into the picture. Maybe I hadn’t. Not really lived. “What you did to me was cruel, and I didn’t deserve it. But I know you see that now. You made a mistake and like I said before, I forgive you.”

I was half expecting more talking since he seemed to be on such a wordy roll today. Instead, he used his lips this time. His hands. His eyes. But no confrontations. He’d used up his word limit for the day. I felt my head rush backwards at the attack he made on my lips. It was carnal. He breaths hitched from his nostrils. Breaths he seemed to be sucking from the pair of lungs inside my body. I was blindsided completely, and relishing in the upper hand he always had on me. The inside of his mouth was warm like the rest of his thick body. His hand was cupping between my legs now. In one faultlessly executed motion I was straddling his lap, clawing at the back of his neck, and I felt bare hands slide underneath my shorts now gripping on the curve of my behind lewdly. Am I about to orgasm just from the friction of his jeans?

“My God, Livvy. You smell so good, baby. I fuckin’ love that smell.” He mouthed with his lips still partially connected with mine.

The smell was his favorite perfume. He would lift the bottle off my vanity when I was doing my hair at the mirror, smell the top after popping off the lid, then generously spray it in the crook of both sides of my neck.

I felt almost sea sick with lust for him. Between the constant motion of the tram, the rolling of my hips in his lap, his hot exhales into my ears as he muttered into them. I was entirely rapt. The thin lace of a cupless bra I wore beneath my outfit had painted a high definition display of the pert buds of my breast, making it irresistible for the man not to gently tug between a hard-skinned index finger and thumb, imbibing a breathy squeak of his name from my throat. Let myself crumble hastily to the desirous high, and let him take me on the floor of this glassy box for all the world below us to see? I’d have a very long, very disagreeable chat with myself about it later, but I couldn’t fall into that, sex, with him just yet. Although the raunchy idea of my bare flesh being trapped between his hearty torso and the cool glass windows here was mind-blowingly riveting. A little self-control was healthy, whether I internally agreed or not. However, that very scenario would be added to the growing list of X-rated fantasies involving Colton Ritter.

“O-okay, okay, Colton. Wow, hold-hold on.” I pulled away from his burning kiss, placing hand over my now seemingly chapped lips from the friction of his beard, and noticed a faint rash down my neck, leading down to my cleavage where he had suckled and scraped, and bit my tanned skin during the exchange. “As much as I don’t want to, trust me. We should pump the breaks here for a sec.”

He was stroking both opened fists across the small of my back, like you would do to soothe an upset newborn. A much lighter contrast to the way he was just pawing me like a ravenous predator.

“Shit,” he said in a barely there, seemingly embarrassed whisper. “I’m sorry, baby. I got outta control…” He wouldn’t let me see his eyes then.

“Woah!” I eagerly replied. “I wasn’t looking for an apology, Colt! I wanted that every bit as much as you.”

The electric, waterproof acquaintance that lived in my night-stand had almost run it’s race, and I needed this living, breathing, very stimulating man in front of me. Soon. ASAP. “But, I just think we should hold out, ya’ know. We need to work up to that a little.”

He was nodding in agreement now. What I believed to be honest agreeance, and not him trying to pacify me with what I wanted to hear.

“I get it, 2-1. As painfully fuckin’ irresistible as you are right now, I do get it. Him? I think he may have a little harder time acceptin’ though.” He shifted slightly upward reintroducing me to his still solid length underneath where I bestrode him, and smiled the most hellacious, satisfied grin I’d ever seen. The one he knew lit my every internal flame and sent me reeling with desire. “But the longer we wait, baby….” The sentence was left unfinished of actual words, but the drawn out moaning hum he gave, punctuated the thought exactly how he intended it to.

The lack of a touch from each there over the four hundred something days had been unrelenting, but once the ache settled a bit, it became manageable. However, now, with the blistering¸ very fresh reminder of just how pleasing and breathtaking the feel of our bodies felt when joined together, I was certain I would come undone. Sooner than later.

I squeezed over the muscle of his arms and gave him a look of warning at his crude comments. I had come to terms with the fact he was simply a sexual person. Sex was something he wasn’t ashamed to discuss, and it was something he verbally admitted his enjoyment for. I’d worry about developing the thick skin to deal with that tidbit at another time.

“You’re like a horny 15 year-old boy, Ritter.” I chortled with a blush.”

“That’s all your fault though. I can’t help it my girl is a so damn sexy.” Colton retorted with his thumb grazing the corner of my wrinkled eyes.

I wanted to ask him to paint a picture of me then. What did he see when he looked? Really looked. Physically, I mean. Sure, the new muscles from my training were settling in nicely, but otherwise, I was so… just so typical. Green eyes, small in stature, and an average dirty blonde head of mostly unruly hair. I couldn’t even stand next to the beauty of a woman that society would deem suitable for him. I blended in like camouflage amongst a crowd of women, but evidently looking from the point of view of one Colton Michael Thomas Ritter, things were much different.

I wanted more. Needed it, actually. Whatever detail he hadn’t shared with me yet, I’d find a way to pull it from him. I was all in, indeed.

After lingering for an hour or so more, tucked away above the hustle of summertime in the city, and dropping for a quick to-go cup at The Grind, we journeyed back to my place. Andrew had given silent eyes of gleaming approval when he saw the two of us enter the shop, fingers interlocked securely, and I exhaled in relief briefly. But, a tightness quickly drew back into my shoulders once Tia’s very disapproving, fuming blue pools fluttered through my thoughts. I’d have to settle things before somehow our reuniting made it back to her. Soon. But for now, for the night, I just wanted to selfishly bask in him. In us. Our long, cold nights apart now only a painful recollection that I never wanted to think of again, nor experience.

Now, in the mostly silent concrete parking lot of my home, standing settled between his opened legs still seated sideways on his bike, I never wanted to move. Crickets sang harmoniously as we lingered in a warm hug, and the flickering street light playing as spotlight. Several moments passed without words. Awkward silence to most, but a fulfilling moment of sensual security to us. The feel of his hand caressing the small of my back right below the twin dotted indentions about my firm backside, gently rubbing left to right, and sporadic kisses touching where my neck curved into my shoulder. I closed my eyes to think of those indulgent, teasing kisses along the ticklish hump of my ribcage, then across my pelvis to meet each protruding hipbone punctuated with a wicked nip of his teeth, and I felt a sweat arise in the crease of my breasts at the idea.

“Come upstairs,” a throaty demand wafted over my lips before I could practice any tact.

He instantly halted all movements seeking the truth behind my eyes. And I noticed a flash of seemingly confusion, mixed with hopefulness.

“What?”

“Come inside with me. Spend the night…” I proposed, fully aware of what I was offering to the very hungry man draped around my waist.

I kissed him fervently, and journeyed a wandering hand to his member standing half staffed, eliciting a groan of liking from his gaping mouth. His legs tightened around me, and his fingers crawled up to wrap his grip around my tousled braid.

“Liv, baby… baby, c’mon. Hold on…hold..” A tangled string of efforted protests met my eardrums, but his hands continued to nearly squeeze right through my flesh. Then finally, he sought out below to halt the erotic massage I was giving through the confines of his now growing jeans. “Stop, baby. Okay? Talk to me for a second.”

I felt my eyes expand when he had actually stopped my bold foreplay. Was he turning me down? “You don’t actually want to leave? Do you?” I probed.

“Hold up right there, Livvy. Don’t give me those puppy eyes,” he scolded shakily. “I know what you’re thinkin’, and you are so, so damn far off.”

I wasn’t thinking he didn’t want me. Not really, anyway. But I kept silent, wondering sincerely his reasons for declining my bed for the night.

“As bad as I want to throw you over my shoulder right this minute, and take you upstairs to see whatever sexy little lace number you’ve got on under these clothes, then fuckin’ tear it off your ass, I just think we should cool it. For tonight.” He confessed earnestly.

I was truly even furthermore enamored with him after that. He read my actions didn’t really wield my exact feelings, no matter how persistent my advances on his crotch may have been, and he resisted nobly. But, his desires shined through the ocean blue of his eyes.

“We’ve got plenty of sleepless nights ahead of us, gorgeous. I promise you that.” Colton said with a dark intonation behind his words. I believed that promise too, no hesitancy, and I looked forward to all the lost time he planned to make up for, knowing he’d execute every encounter flawlessly.

“I’ll be sure to get my rest tonight then.” I purred into his mouth before I snaked a tongue inside.

“Oh, I’d highly advise that. I prefer you well rested. And besides, I can’t have any girlfriend of mine walkin’ around with bags unda’ her eyes.” He smacked me on the tail end.

“Girlfriend?”

“Hell yes, girlfriend. You ain’t gettin’ rid of me now.”

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noaasanctuaries · 6 years

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Scientists work together to solve a coral disease mystery in Florida Keys National Marine Sanctuary

The Florida Keys are known for their lush coral reefs and incredible biodiversity. Protected by Florida Keys National Marine Sanctuary, the Keys support more than 6,000 species of plants, fishes, and invertebrates – including more than 65 species of stony corals. But in the past few years, something has been targeting these corals.

A scientist documents stony coral tissue loss disease as it infects nearly two dozen stony coral species on the Florida Reef Tract. Photo: Nick Zachar/NOAA

In September 2014, researchers began noticing that certain stony corals along the Florida Reef Tract weren’t doing well. The Florida Reef Tract stretches approximately 360 miles in an arc along the Florida Keys and southeastern Florida. Off Virginia Key, in Miami-Dade County, corals were showing "small circular or irregular patches of white, exposed skeleton devoid of tissue," explains Dr. Andy Bruckner, research coordinator for Florida Keys National Marine Sanctuary. From there, the tissue would slough off, leaving the stark white skeleton exposed until algae colonized it. The disease, he explains, "radiates across the colony and outward."

This spells trouble for the reefs, and for the creatures and people who depend on them. The reefs of the Florida Keys provide food and recreational opportunities for residents and vacationers alike, and they can protect coastal communities since they serve as a buffer for hurricanes and other storms. So as Joanna Walczak, southeast regional administrator at the Florida Department of Environmental Protection puts it, "this is an all hands on deck situation, requiring an unprecedented effort and response."

Partners from universities, nonprofits, and government agencies have joined Florida Keys National Marine Sanctuary and the Florida Department of Environmental Protection to understand the disease and how it can be stopped. "This collaborative response effort is vitally important," says Sarah Fangman, Florida Keys National Marine Sanctuary superintendent. "The broad knowledge provided by all our partners working together has resulted in the development of a variety of interventions." Together, these partners hope to develop an effective treatment.

Stony coral tissue loss disease has spread quickly since it was first identified in 2014. Image: Florida Department of Environmental Protection

An unprecedented ailment

From time to time, corals – like any other animal – become susceptible to diseases and pathogens. But stony coral tissue loss disease is proving to be unprecedented in terms of its range, duration, and deadliness for corals.

Since 2014, the disease has spread over 150 square miles, and nearly half of the stony coral species found on the Florida Reef Tract have been affected. That includes the primary reef-building species in Florida Keys National Marine Sanctuary, as well as five species that are listed under the Endangered Species Act. And this disease is often deadly, with a mortality rate of 66 to 100 percent. Once a coral begins to lose living tissue, it’s likely that the colony will die within weeks to months. The cause of the disease is still unknown, but evidence points to a bacterial pathogen that is transmitted by touch and water circulation.

Not all reef-building corals are susceptible. Two of the most-recognized and also the most endangered species – staghorn and elkhorn coral – are not impacted. Additionally, not all susceptible species within the disease zone are affected, suggesting some may be more resilient.

Stony coral tissue loss disease progresses rapidly once stony corals are infected. This coral lost 60 percent of its living tissue over the course of roughly a month. Photos: Brian Reckenbeil/Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission

Collaboration is key

A disease like this requires a multi-pronged approach, with scientists working both to understand what the disease is and how they may be able to treat it. "NOAA scientists are working with partners to identify a pathogen that causes the tissue loss, better characterize transmission of the disease, and understand the patterns of spread throughout the reef and overall impacts of the disease," says Bruckner.

One step in the response is surveying: researchers need to know what kinds of corals are most affected by stony coral tissue loss disease and where affected corals are. Scientists are tracking where the disease is spreading, how many corals have been infected, how badly those corals are injured, and what impacts the disease is having on the broader ecosystem.

There is some good news. Coral is not a single animal, but rather a colony made up of thousands of identical, interconnected individuals. That means that if part of a colony dies, the parts that survive can continue growing.

Additionally, researchers are taking tissue samples to identify potential pathogens and how the disease is impacting corals. And by tracking environmental conditions like water temperature, water quality, and sedimentation, researchers hope to evaluate whether these factors may be influencing how susceptible to disease the Florida Keys corals are.

A science diver surveys a patch reef in Florida Keys National Marine Sanctuary. Photo: Jim Abernethy

"Florida Keys National Marine Sanctuary scientists are also working collaboratively to develop effective treatments for infected corals to prevent the most important reef-building corals from dying," says Bruckner. Using antiseptics like chlorine and broad-spectrum antibiotics, scientists have been working to halt the spread of the disease. These measures are particularly crucial for corals like pillar coral, which is near extinction in Florida. With targeted delivery systems, these treatments should not impact the broader ecosystem, and researchers are carefully monitoring treatment sites.

Scientists have also created gene banks for pillar corals, and are working to expand this effort to other species. These banks preserve key genetic individuals of these species so that later, when a treatment has been found for the disease or it has subsided naturally, the corals could be propagated and transplanted along the reef. These and other experimental techniques may help preserve the reef in the face of this disease. "Restoration of the most resilient species of corals and the strongest genetic individuals of these species will be key to the future of reefs here in Florida," says Fangman.

A scientist creates a trench filled with chlorinated epoxy to treat a colony of mountainous star coral (Orbicella faveolata) impacted by stony coral tissue loss disease. Photo: Brian Walker/Nova Southeastern University

How you can help

It’s not just trained scientists who are on the scene: citizen scientists have also been helping with data collection. Volunteers with the Southeast Florida Action Network (SEAFAN) and Community-based Observation of Coastal Ecosystems and Assessment Network (C-OCEAN) have helped track healthy and unhealthy corals throughout South Florida. Anyone diving or snorkeling in the Keys can use SEAFAN, the state’s reporting tool, to describe what they are seeing and upload images.

Although some coral species within Florida Keys National Marine Sanctuary are suffering, the sanctuary remains an incredible place to visit and explore. The reefs still have many healthy corals and other marine life such as reef fish, sharks, turtles, and rays. When you visit, you can help corals maintain their resilience with just a few small actions. "All of us can be part of the solution and help shape a better future for the reefs of Florida," says Fangman.

When boating, use mooring buoys to avoid anchoring on and injuring coral structures. Make sure to pack out your trash: marine debris can hurt marine life and impact habitats. Using reef-friendly sunscreens that do not contain oxybenzone and avobenzone can also help. These compounds are lethal to coral reproduction even in very small amounts, so check your sunscreen’s ingredients list to make sure you’re not bringing toxins into the coral reef environment.

If you live in Florida, you can also help by reducing runoff into storm and wastewater drains. Plant rain gardens that capture runoff and allow it to filter naturally through the soil; design your yard with permeable surfaces like bricks, gravel, and mulch instead of asphalt or concrete; and consider installing a rain barrel to capture rainfall for later use. These actions keep fertilizers, pesticides, debris, and loose soil from draining into our ocean, where they can negatively impact wildlife like corals.

By reducing land-based pollution, we can increase coral reef resilience in the face of this disease. Image: NOAA

If you’re a diver, you can play a direct role in helping to control the spread of this disease. Because this disease is likely spread by touch and water flow, cleaning your gear is essential. Be sure to properly dispose of your cleaning solution; never pour it back into the ocean.

While diving, practicing proper reef etiquette can also help. Make sure you’re not dragging your gear, and keep your buoyancy in mind. Knocking against the reef or touching corals can damage them, and risks transferring the disease from one colony to another.

Want to get more involved with protecting our coral reef? Join citizen science efforts like SEAFAN and C-OCEAN to document what you see when you visit your sanctuary. With a tourism-based economy where the majority of jobs in the Florida Keys are tied to the marine ecosystem, this coral disease outbreak affects residents and visitors alike.

"I believe that once people understand the seriousness of this issue, they’ll want to be involved, whether that is participating in marine debris cleanups, using reef-safe sunscreen and reducing runoff, or reporting coral condition for investigation," says Fangman.

Hope for the corals

Since this disease was first identified in 2014, scientists have diligently worked to respond to it and protect the coral reef habitat of South Florida. Still, it will likely take years to determine the exact cause of the disease. In the meantime, addressing other known coral stressors may help the corals’ ability to recover. Poor water quality, large amounts of sediment in the water, pollution, and other factors can make it more difficult for corals to survive. Mitigating these factors gives corals a better shot at fighting this infection.

Coral reefs, like those in Florida Keys National Marine Sanctuary, are among the most biologically-diverse, culturally-significant, and economically-valuable ecosystems on Earth. Stony coral tissue loss disease endangers industries and recreational opportunities like recreational fishing and scuba diving, and supporting the health of the Keys supports the health of these industries. By working together, we can help protect these magnificent reefs for generations to come.

Cleaner gobies swim over star coral in Florida Keys National Marine Sanctuary. Photo: Steve Miller

Partners currently involved in the response effort include Broward County, Coral Restoration Foundation, Cry of the Water, Florida Aquarium, Florida Atlantic University, Florida Department of Environmental Protection (Florida Coastal Office, Florida Parks Service), Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission (Fish and Wildlife Research Institute), Florida Institute of Technology, Florida International University, George Mason University, Keys Marine Laboratory, Martin County, Miami-Dade County, Mote Marine Laboratory, NOAA (Coral Reef Conservation Program, National Centers for Coastal Ocean Science, Florida Keys National Marine Sanctuary), National Park Service (Biscayne National Park, Dry Tortugas National Park, South Florida/Caribbean Network), Nova Southeastern University/National Coral Reef Institute, Palm Beach County, Palm Beach County Reef Rescue, Southeast Florida Coral Reef Initiative, Smithsonian Institution, The Nature Conservancy, United States Geological Survey (National Wildlife Health Center), University of Florida, University of Miami Rosenstiel School of Marine and Atmospheric Science, and the University of South Florida.

#coral #florida keys #florida #coral reef #conservation #ocean #science #research #coral disease #noaa #Florida Keys National Marine Sanctuary

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venomade · 6 years

Text

Diamonds in His Eyes

This is for @brightisthedawn for the @shaladinsecretsanta! I apologize that it’s a little late - my life got pretty hectic post-Christmas. They asked for a fantasy AU of some kind! Hopefully, a Tangled AU counts as fantasy for them. And, at the very least, I hope you enjoy my interpretation of Shiro and Keith in this setting.

Pairing: Shiro/Keith

Summary: As Shiro's 25th birthday approaches, he's almost accepted that he may spend the rest of his life hidden away in a tower, with only his mother and cat for company. But now there's a man tied to his favorite chair, claiming he can take him to the kingdom of lights. [Shiro/Keith - Tangled AU]

Read on AO3 HERE

In his defense, Shiro had panicked.

He had been on his bed, reading the latest novel his mother had gifted him, when he heard footsteps hit the wood floor downstairs. At first, he thought he might have imagined it - maybe it was some kind of latent coping mechanism to deal with his mother's final refutation of his only birthday wish. But then he heard Kovu, his large black cat, hiss from the other side of the room, bristling with a rage he had never seen in his docile pet. And that's when the fear struck him.

Mother had said this might happened. It was statistical improbability, she had assured, but that didn't mean she would leave him without precautions. Regardless, a lot of his free time was spent strength training around the tower. If this intruder was expecting some damsel to cower before them, Shiro would undoubtedly shatter them.

Still, it had frightened him that someone other than his mother was in the tower now. He'd spent his whole life fantasizing about meeting another person - greeting them, walking with them, talking with them. But all those fantasies were outside of the tower, in the cities and castles and forests he had constructed in his head. Inside the tower...that was another story entirely.

Shiro had tip-toed out of his room and used his hair to make his way to the bottom floor. The intruder was looking over the murals Shiro had painted beside the kitchen when he approached, their hair black and unkempt, frayed strands moving past their ears and down his neck. He didn't catch a good look at the intruder's face before he smashed the back of his favorite pocket knife into their head, but he could definitely tell they were a man. Even if they were slim, they lacked the softness and curves he was accustomed to with his mother. He had almost felt guilty over the act, but it was what mother would have wanted. Shiro had to protect himself and his gift at all cost. The kingdom had to be kept at peace, and for that to happen, Shiro had to be locked up and out of reach of ruthless, greedy hands.

Yet, he might have felt a tad more guilty on account of the man's smooth, handsome face.

"Oh, wow..." Shiro's breath had caught as he turned the man over, black tresses falling over his face. The man's skin was fair, his nose sharp, and his lips full and pink. A satchel was wrapped around his body, but Shiro had no desire to pry into the man's belongings. Shiro had blinked, unsure what to do with the stranger except stare at him and his pretty face. And had it not been for Kovu's persistent hissing, that might have been a real possibility.

Now, here he was: waiting in the shadows of his reading corner, waiting for the man to wake up. He had his knife tucked into his back pocket and a chunk of his hair wrapped around his right arm. Had mother been there, she would have hoisted him out of the window and buried him in a ditch in the forest. But for all her lessons, for all her insistence that people were inherently evil and would come to ravage Shiro and his gifts at a moment's notice, Shiro could not harden his heart to that capacity. His mother may have seen the evil of man, she may have been manipulated, betrayed, and abused - but Shiro hadn't. And the least he could do was give this man the chance to speak for himself and justify his actions.

Besides, there was a small part of him (a very, very small part, he assured himself) that wondered what his eyes looked like. If they were as pleasant as the rest of his face, his heart might actually skip a beat. And that - to feel what was written in all those romance novels and fairy tales - was his most private, most coveted fantasy.

-----

When Keith woke up, the back of his skull was pounding.

He moaned as he attempted to open his eyes, the pain amplified with just the slightest tilt of his head. He tried to move his arms to soothe the ache, but he felt ropes wrapped tight around his shoulders and waist, effectively restraining him. God, what had hit him? The last thing he could recall was looking at those murals. He had been surprised by how detailed the paper lanterns were, and how lush and green the trees appeared. He wasn't an expert, but he knew that took skill and years of practice. Had his life not gone to complete shit in the past twenty-four hours, he might have stuck around long enough to meet the artist.

Well, wish granted, Keith cringed and shook his head. At the very least, he had to open his eyes and get used to his surroundings again. If he wanted to survive this ordeal, he'd need every sense available. He squeezed his eyes a second time, and slowly relaxed his face to open them. At first, his vision was blurry, but he could make out the trace of the window he had entered from along with its stream of accompanying sunlight. As his eyes adjusted to the light and the ache in his skull subsided to a dull, nagging pang, Keith could see the plants sitting atop the window, as well as the mural of vines and woodland sprites spiraling around the window's brick frame. Keith blinked and turned his head, unconcerned with his head's persistent protest. He drank in the murals that seemed to touch every corner of the walls - he especially liked the quintet of cats near the bookshelf, though he wondered why the artist had decided to color a few of them in such outlandish hues like bright blue and neon green.

"Amazing," Keith breathed out, his voice feeling scratchy against his parched throat. God, when was the last time he had anything to drink? And how long had he been restrained to this chair? His arms and legs felt stiff, and his stomach emitted a low growl, alerting Keith to another problem. He could do without that, really. It wasn't like he could feed himself with these ropes -

"Who are you?" a soft, deep voice penetrated the quiet of the tower, and Keith whipped his head towards its direction, wincing as his vision swerved and his headache intensified. That voice sure didn't sound like anyone he would expect in this tower. Though, to be fair, everything about this place was unexpected. When he had first discovered the tower, he had assumed it would be abandoned - the perfect place to hideaway for the next few days. But the murals had looked too fresh, the plants too lively, and the scents too potent for the tower to be vacant. He would have left after a little more meandering through the first floor but, well...

At least he had a good idea as to who knocked him out.

"My name - " Keith caught himself. Unveiling his real name to a complete stranger bordered on moronic. He gathered his thoughts, and recollected a boy from his hometown with clear, hazel eyes and black hair similar to his own. That could work. "My name is Akira."

"Akira...that's a nice name, actually," the voice said, a hint of wonder lacing its tone. But that wonder was soon replaced by coarse, rigid words, an unspoken threat intertwined with every syllable, "How did you find this tower, and why are you here?"

"I was...escaping a few, uh, ruffians who were after something of mine," Keith replied, doing his best to remain as vague as possible. Wouldn't do to have this stranger know his profession revolved around stolen crowns and street brawls with castle guards. "I found this tower while I ran through the forest. I thought it was abandoned, and thought I could use it to lay low for a few days. Or until I thought I was safe."

He paused, unsure if that was a satisfactory answer. He decided to continue, more for himself than the stranger hidden in the shadows. His stomach was wracked with both hunger and guilt, and he couldn't - he wouldn't - have someone think he was a common thief ready to kill and maim whenever necessary. "I didn't mean to alarm you, and I promise I won't cause you harm. Had I known this tower was someone's home, I wouldn't have intruded. I...I apologize."

"Do you mean that?" the voice asked, the wonder returning to its voice. Keith couldn't quite place it but the words, while confident and assured, seemed stilted, as if they weren't used to talking to others. Though, Keith could imagine that living in a tower this far out from the rest of the kingdom prevented its occupants from taking many social calls. Perhaps Keith was the first person they'd seen in a long, long while.

"Yes, I do mean that - I won't harm you," Keith nodded, his face steeled with conviction.

"Okay...okay," the voice said. "I'll undo your restraints. But, if you're lying, you'll have to answer to me and my cat."

"Your cat?" Keith quirked a brow. At his words, a vicious hiss shot throughout the room. It seemed to be directly behind Keith - maybe the cat was propped up on top of a dresser or closet shelf. But whatever the cat looked like, Keith was sure that the voice was not one to make empty threats. "Alright, you have a deal. But, it would be nice to see who I'm talking to, and who hit me so damn hard."

"Oh - I, uh, apologize about that," the voice stammered, its tone growing sheepish. Keith almost smiled, amused that he, the intruder, was being apologized to. "You're the first person besides my mother and I to ever be in this tower."

"Really? That's sort of - " Keith's next words were interrupted however, as he felt the ropes wrapped around him loosen, his arms and legs tingling in response. He looked down, unsure how the stranger had done that from the shadows. He narrowed his eyes, taking in the long, thin black strands tied by thick, white ribbons every two feet or so. Mild fascination and horror swirled through him, his fingers tugging at its soft, fine ends.

The ropes weren't ropes at all.

"That's hair," Keith's voice was calm despite his unnerving realization. He had been tied down by really strong, really long hair. His list for the day's unpredictable events was starting to become daunting, and he wasn't sure if he could stomach any more of it. "You bound me to hair."

"I apologize for that, too," the voice consoled as the hair spiraled off of Keith and slithered into the shadows. "We don't keep ropes in the tower."

"Why?" Keith asked, grasping onto the ends of the chair's arm rest until his knuckles went white. He had promised he wouldn't hurt the voice, but that didn't rule out self-defense. Without ropes, no one could escape the tower unless they were exceptionally skilled at scaling walls. Was the voice lying to him, trying to catch him off-guard? Where was their "mother" anyway?

He could hear the voice take a deep breath and clothes shuffle, as if hands were smoothing out wrinkles on a shirt. Soon, he heard a pair of feet approach him. The footsteps weren't loud or skittish or fast - they were controlled, deliberate, slow. He could also hear hair rustle against the floor as well, but that confused Keith the most. For hair to drag along the floor...

But then a form finally stepped out of the shadows, and all thoughts of hair and footsteps dissolved.

From the voice, Keith had suspected it was a man, and a man he definitely was. He was tall, maybe four or five inches taller than Keith, with broad shoulders and a full chest. He wore a black, long-sleeved tunic, and a thick, brown belt was fastened around his waist. Brown breeches finished the simple ensemble, his feet surprisingly bare. But that wasn't what Keith was truly amazed by.

The man's face was a complete vision. Like something out of a storybook.

His skin was a lush olive, contrasting well against his tunic's collar. He had a strong, square jaw, high cheekbones, and a long, refined nose. Wide lips, a few shades lighter than his skin, filled out the bottom of his face. Thick brows framed his eyes, monolid and accompanied by long, black eyelashes. And his eyes - his eyes were a dark gray, reminding Keith of clouds before a storm, or smoke above a dying fire. They shined as they took in Keith's stare, as if the man was stupefied by his presence, by the fact he was still in the chair watching him approach. His frame may have been poised, his back straight and his lips void of a smile or a frown - but his eyes were elated. They sparkled.

There were diamonds in his eyes, more precious than any jewel or treasure Keith had stolen before. He was sure of it.

So taken by the man's eyes, he almost missed the vivid white bangs swept against his forehead and the long, black hair that traveled down his shoulders, passed his legs, and onto the floor. His hair was kept tidy by the white ribbons. Instead of the ribbons making him look dainty or effeminate, they made him appear sophisticated, regal.

"The hair...that's your hair," Keith let out when the man was a few feet away, his heart swelling with unspoken words. He had never felt so compelled - he had never felt compelled at all - to tell someone how beautiful they were. Was this tower enchanted - was this man? There had to be some kind of spell in the air, something that was filling his lungs with a crackling adoration for a man he had just met.

"We...we don't keep ropes in the tower because..." the man began, his eyes shifting from Keith's face to the floor. He spiraled a chunk of his hair around his arm, and crushed one of the ribbons underneath his fingertips. "Because it's a precaution. So that no one can steal me away."

"Steal you away? Why would anyone do that?" Keith asked, even as he knew precisely why he would whisk this man out of the tower.

The man paused and closed his eyes - perhaps weighing his options towards telling Keith the truth or keeping it a secret. He grimaced, but then soon turned his attention back to Keith, the diamonds in his eyes glossed over in resolve. "You weren't after me? You have no idea what I'm capable of?"

"No. No, I - all I wanted was a safe place to stay," Keith almost pleaded, but he kept his tone as composed as possible. He felt heat in his cheeks, shame clawing at the back of his throat. The man searched Keith's face for answers, judging if Keith was someone he could trust. Keith had already lied to him, had already showed his true colors. He wasn't a man anyone should trust, least of all someone so beautiful as the person before him. "But you don't have to tell me, if you don't want to. And I promise, once I leave I'll never -"

"You want to leave?" the man interrupted, something akin to hurt giving his voice a raw, raspy quality.

"I thought you would want me gone as soon as possible," Keith replied. "Before your mother returns. If she thinks everyone is after you, I'm sure she wouldn't hesitate to throw me out the window the moment she found me in this chair."

The man blinked. A moment passed, and he cracked a smile, his eyes sparkling elation once more. The smile was soon followed by a giddy laughter, and Keith's ears tickled at the sound. "Yeah - that was one of my first thoughts, actually. My mother would be throwing your body down a cliff by now. Maybe even offer your corpse to the wolves down south."

"Lucky me, then," Keith sighed, tempted to roll his eyes. Good to know that in his sea of bad fortune, death and dismemberment had yet to be fished out.

"Lucky you, indeed," the man continued to smile, straightening his back and offering Keith his hand. "My apologies, I have yet to introduce myself. My name is Shiro, and behind you is my cat, Kovu."

Keith took the man's hand - smooth and dry - and hoisted himself off the chair. He returned the smile and reluctantly let his hand slip from his grasp. "It's good to meet you, Shiro. Again, I'm sorry for -"

Something jumped onto Shiro's shoulders before he could finish, forcing Keith to stumble backwards, the back of his legs hitting the front of the chair. He winced, but turned his attention back to Shiro and the black cat now perched on his shoulders. Yellow eyes bore into Keith, and Kovu's nose flared. It seemed while Shiro was willing to trust him, the cat required further observation.

"Uh, nice to meet you too, Kovu," Keith didn't dare approach the cat, deciding to provide Kovu with a casual salute instead. While he wasn't afraid of a few scratches to his face, being maimed by Shiro's cat could damper the start of their friendship.

"Apologies for my cat as well," Shiro gave him a sheepish grin, and leaned his face into Kovu's fur. The cat purred at the affectionate gesture, placated for the moment. "He hasn't seen anyone besides my mother and I since he was a kitten."

"All is forgiven," Keith chuckled. "How old is he anyway?"

"Seventeen," Shiro answered, matter-of-fact, and frowned at the sight of Keith's bulging eyes and open mouth. "Is that unusual?"

"Most cats around here are lucky to live past a decade," Keith replied. "And I guess staying up here would help him stay alive a little longer but...his coat looks so fresh, and I can't find any gray in his fur or whiskers."

"That might have to do with mine and my mother's -" Shiro recoiled, tearing his stare from Keith and back to the floor. "I apologize...again. I don't think it's safe to tell you."

"Look, Shiro..." Keith trailed, his heart fluttering. It was strange, bizarre. He had had one of the worst days of his life. He had abandoned his best friend in that forest outside the tower, at the mercy of the castle guards. And he had just met this man, and knew so little about his life. But he felt like he would do anything to obtain his trust, to obtain his affection.

It had to be his eyes. His eyes must have hypnotized Keith, bound him to his soul. It was his only explanation for the yearning that whirled through his stomach and shook his fingers.

"But despite everything my mother has told me - I want to tell you," Shiro admitted, glancing back to Keith. "You didn't intend to, but - but you found me. I've never met anyone else in my life and even if I did...I don't think I'd want to tell them as much as I want to tell you."

Keith parted his lips and sucked in the stale tower air, his body warm. It seemed then, more than anything, Shiro wanted someone to listen to him. Perhaps it had been complete luck that Keith had been the first to find and scale this tower, but he would be a fool to throw this chance away. For the majority of his life, fortune and favor had eluded him. Now, here was a pristine, kind man who could offer him a sliver of something good - something worthwhile. "Well, what do you think is safe to tell me? Something that wouldn't betray your mother's trust?"

Shiro narrowed his eyes and creased his brows in concentration. He took a step backwards, and his gaze traveled from Keith to the walls and its murals. While Kovu moved from his owner's shoulders and jumped onto the floor, Shiro looked past his bookshelf and his cookware, his stare venturing towards the right side of the tower. It wasn't until Shiro's eyes caught onto the mural of the paper lanterns, his lips drawn into a wistful smile, that Keith made the obvious connection.

On top of being gorgeous, Shiro was one hell of an artist.

"On my birthday, every year, these lights shoot from the forest and into the sky," Shiro said, his voice almost at a whisper. "I've always wanted to know where they come from, what they mean. I've asked my mother for as long as I can remember if, just once, she could take me to see them. I've promised her I would never want to leave the tower after that - I'd stay and protect my gift forever, with just her and Kovu for company."

"And...what has she told you?" Keith asked, though he was sure Shiro's answer would prove unpleasant.

Shiro sighed and turned back to Keith, the diamonds in his eyes fading, "It's too dangerous. Even with all my training and learning how to defend myself - she says the people out there would find a way to capture me and lock me away in a dungeon, where my powers would be used for their own selfish gain. When I was younger, I didn't understand, and I would cry and throw myself onto my bed. But now...I've accepted that this is my life. I can't wallow. I just have to make the best of my circumstances. If not for myself, then for my mother and all she has done for me."

Keith processed Shiro's words, glancing over to the painted paper lanterns. This was all he wanted, to see the paper lanterns that mourned the kidnapped prince? The wish seemed simple enough. Why would his mother rebuke him, even after all his training? Shiro was a man (and hardly one Keith would call small or scrawny). He could take care of himself, just like Keith.

Wait, now there's an idea, Keith reflected. He held his chin in-between his fingers, and looked back to Shiro. "Where is your mother right now? She leave you alone often?"

Shiro nodded, "Yes, usually to get food and whatever else we need around the tower. Instead of ropes, she uses my hair to climb the tower."

"Pretty strong hair," Keith chuckled. His words elicited a faint pink to adorn Shiro's cheeks, and his grin widened at the response. "But what's she doing now?"

"For my birthday, I asked her for new paints to work with and a good book. She left this morning, actually."

"Okay - and how long will it take for her to get back?"

"She has to go into a village on the other side of the hills to get the paints. It can take her anywhere from three to four days to return, but I suspect with the book hunting, it'll be four this time around."

"And she left this morning, right?"

"Yes...she did," Shiro reiterated, his lips pursed in confusion. "Where are you going with this?"

"Well, your birthday is tomorrow, right?" Keith took a few steps towards the paper lantern mural, his mind buzzing with fortuitous possibility. If he had Shiro in tow with him on his return to the kingdom, he could hit three birds with one stone: drop off the crown to his contact and receive his reward, find Lance to plan their escape out of the kingdom and into Galra territory, and escort Shiro to the see the paper lanterns. Maybe he could even convince Shiro to abandon his life of confined solitude and come with him instead! Of course, befriending Shiro could prove to be a liability - he still didn't know what his "gift" entailed, or what his mother was capable of if someone stole Shiro away.

But, Keith was a thief - a good thief. And stealing risky, priceless treasure was all part of the package.

"Why don't you come with me? To see the lanterns?" Keith finally suggested. "We can travel through the forest together, look around the kingdom, watch the ceremony, and then get you back here with enough time for your mother to never suspect a thing. It's the perfect setup."

"What?" Shiro whipped his hair behind him, his stare incredulous. "Leave the tower, to see the lanterns? With you? Why would you do that?"

"Look, it's the least I could do - I invaded your home, scared your cat, and would definitely be dead if your mother was around," Keith acknowledged, crossing his arms and moving back towards Shiro. "If you don't want to, that's fine. I'll leave and you'll never have to see me again. But...this could be your chance. To know what's out there."

Shiro curled his fingers into fists, his knuckles white. His body was stiff, his stare void of emotion. Keith could only imagine the dilemma Shiro faced. He hadn't expected this opportunity to ever present itself. And if he had, Keith could tell by the way he smiled at those painted lanterns that he had given up on those dreams some time ago.

"If there's people out there - people who know who I am - will you protect me from them?" Shiro asked, his eyes not quite meeting Keith's. "I don't...I don't want my mother to worry."

Keith wasn't entirely sure what compelled him to reach across the room and press his hand into Shiro's shoulder, but he suspected it had to do with the yearning in his eyes. How the diamonds returned and glistened with the possibility, a thousand fantasies pouring into his head. "Sure, Shiro. I promise I'll protect you, no matter what."

Shiro tilted his head to glance at the hand on his shoulder, his mouth formed into an o. He soon smiled, and placed his hand on top of Keith's, squeezing his fingers gently. "Thank you, Akira. You have no idea how much this means to me."

And with Shiro's diamond eyes so close, his hand warm and large against his own, Keith wondered how Shiro's lips would feel pressed against his own, fingers wound tight around his lower back -

A wicked hiss intruded his thoughts, and he felt teeth nip at his ankle. Shiro gasped as Keith threw himself back, almost stumbling into the chair for the second time that afternoon.

"Kovu!" Shiro exclaimed, voice cracked and cheeks flushed. "That wasn't - he wasn't doing anything. Are you okay, Akira?"

"Yeah, yeah - I'm fine. And I promise I had no intention of ki - kicking him in the shins, or you know, whatever bad people do," Keith corrected himself, his face hot once more. Maybe this plan wasn't as perfect as he thought...

Shiro scratched at the back of his head, an embarrassed chuckle accompanying his next words. "But, you know - Kovu and I can take care of ourselves. All that training has to amount to something."

"Yeah, I figured," Keith nodded. "But it's the thought that counts, right? I'm sure I have a few good punches in me."

"Definitely more than a few," Shiro's hand traveled from his head to the back of his neck, his posture relaxed but his body bristling with an excitement, a hope that spilled butterflies into Keith's stomach. "Does your offer extend to Kovu? I'm afraid I wouldn't feel right leaving him behind."

Of course the cat was coming with them. That was another detail he'd forgotten. Keith tried to keep his displeasure at a minimum, and shrugged. "Yeah, that's fine. More the merrier and all that."

"Great!" Shiro's smile broadened as he practically raced towards the stairs, his bare feet quickly reaching the second floor. "Let me pack up a few things, and we can be on our way."

"I'll be waiting," Keith replied and waved up to Shiro, his chest light. The man's giddiness was infectious, it seemed. Not that he could blame him - his life was about to begin.

Kovu stood behind, his yellow eyes never leaving Keith. His stare prevented Keith from looking into his satchel and inspecting the crown. He opted to cross his arms instead, and shot Kovu a challenging glare. He felt the crown's weight against his side however, and sighed in relief. Finally, he had a way to escape this miserable kingdom and find his way back to his family.

And maybe...I have something else too, Keith thought as he looked up towards Shiro's room, wondering just what the man could be packing. Books? Knives? Gourmet cat food?

Keith shook his head, chuckling at himself. Whatever Shiro brought, it didn't matter. So long as the diamonds in his eyes remained, their journey would be fine. Keith was sure of it.

#sheith #shaladinsecretsanta2k17 #vld keith #shirogane takashi #venom writes #my fics #voltron #voltron: legendary defender #this was so hard to write wow #it was all in my brain but putting it down into WORDS was incredible

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bitchyconnoisseurface-blog · 7 years

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sgepp · 7 years

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Hiding

The beginning is uncertain, irrelevant. As you’d put it, the uncertainty that pervades everything is unmitigably horrifying, yet unconditionally liberating too. So, somewhere within this unassuming but all encompassing chaos, we collided and produced a bit of light and I was helplessly swept away by the austere beauty of it all. And all this, while a tumultuous civil war was thriving within me, feeding on the same conflict that was destroying it destroying me.

Back then, I used to blindfold myself for I found the sunlight too illuminating; too surreal to behold for my withering mind. Unwittingly fettering myself inside a tiny igloo within a deep, desolate crevice, I would go to sleep for days on end.

Then in one isolated moment, as the direwolves stopped yodeling and the clouds parted to allow the tiniest glint of light to slip in through the cracks on the surface, I shot to life and quivering with a newfound sense of purpose managed to drag my clunky limbs and crawl up to the surface.

Out there, shimmerydrifting on the glacial shrouds of death, I found you. You were humming the tunes of sea secrets from a far away land I had long forgotten. Sensing the imminent approach of something pernicious, I must have beckoned you in my sleep. But again, the cause effect conundrum leading up to your being there is entirely inconsequential. Only you being there was significant- you waiting. I looked into your eyes and found them gleaming, with a curious kind of wonder alien to me. Assurances of what was real and what was not seemed hardly necessary to these objets d’art. Weary, young men of the Kierkegaardian order, must be easily given to such charms, for I remember inadvertently ending up sticking real close, from that point on, to their whimsical twinklemerry.

You didn’t mind company, you said. We could wander off to absolutely anywhere at all, you instigated, and off we went perched highly on the wings of the affable hoverbird they call Destiny, exchanging salutations with the great ridges of the west, teasing the coy foothills hiding under the lush canopies of the valorous evergreen and making idle conversation with the soothing nocturne breeze.

Slipping past the guards unnoticed, we would make for the old forum like vandals on a high risk sabotage mission. Yet upon reaching the inner circle, we would simply sit down and share stories with the hardwood brethren who stood romancing the antique corinthian maidens of the foursquare. On our way out we would seek counsel on our wile plans for the world from the giant elder reptile who watched over the old forum’s rather ghastly past.

And post our juvenile misadventures when we would be sitting by ourselves, I would look on without your knowing and notice… how you drew out that solitary eye-liner from your tote and did your precious eyes, for they had to appear inconspicuous to the commonfolk, how you would drift off to otherworlds for the shortest nanoseconds, how your lovely little feet eagerly craved to pull themselves up to pirouette and ponder.

Apart from the eyeliner, hidden in your bag remained whole oceans, livid shards of the roaring Arabian sea, wild hibiscus buds and blooms, more invaluable collectibles from the deciduous fair, quaint old summer air, raindrops from a long lost monsoon afternoon and such other trinkets. Unbeknownst to the world around you’d conceal them stealthily and strap the bag effortlessly on your shoulder and readily take to the breeze, for it was always taking us places.

There was this one time it took us beyond the radiant neon blurs of the steely acropolis we call home, to the ominous nightly sea on the very edge of the southern realm. While we waited at the door for the moon, soaked in saline mist, you kept brooding over how perturbed you felt earlier that day when your pen had resisted weaving its usual magic spells because all your ink wanted to talk about was the tragedies of the old friends you had lost to the plague. During the reverent silences between the retreat of a wave and the emergence of another, your dim lit full moon face and sullen mercury mind would venture out longingly to meet the distant horizon, even as your body remained tethered to mine by the slightest earthly contact. Though I so keenly wanted to embrace your pinecone diety head to keep away those disruptive tides from enroaching your shores, I would hesitantly refrain for I knew for certain that being fragile was the last thing you’d have wanted to be taken for.

And when eventually your pain would subside, lying underneath an ablaze nightly sky you would ridicule my dingy clouds. Pouncing on my dilapidated mushroom heart with those lithe feet you’d claw out all the cluttered despair with your chimerical laughter, and piece the remains back together with the peevish smirk of a poltergeist and proceed to lick your whiskers with elan over a job well done.

And on brighter afternoons by the moor, we would chisel out silhouettes of the prophets and pretenders for fun and leave them unfinished with Michelangelovian unconcern. And on the sky we would paint incomplete portraits and impatient landscapes with the impressionable palette of Monet in vivid Van Gogh-esque exuberance. In the evenings, exhausted by the mirth derived from all our unholy antics, you would sail away to your bed where your dear canines would keep ye company.

Thus slipped away those summer days at the languid pace of the lousiest ripple of the deadest sea. Then one day, along came postcards from the valley of gardens, summoning me there, for word was out that I’ve been found again. When I brought you in on this unfortunate news, you rather impassively checked the minutes hand of your time teller and reported that we had known each other for not more than seventeen minutes. And then you looked away. I fluttered off with the wings of a reverie to the wonderland where they keep memories of all the minutes we’ll never have. That’s when you leaned in and kissed me. In the touch of your lips was implanted the assurance that I won’t ever be lost again.

Thence I got up and packed my haversack. Chanting Dante for courage I tried to convince myself that these disparate roads that we must venture on would inevitably be intertwined forever. Yet, I didn’t have it in me to leave you behind. I turned to the one last trick I had saved up my sleeve from my ingenieur days; an uncharacteristically risky one. So, whilst you were looking away at the crescent dunes of the majestic cold desert wherein you rescued me from, I disapparated into the infinite mystic landscapes contained within your tote and left myself there hiding.

When you finally turned around to look at me, I only grinned sheepishly hoping my eyes didn’t blink to betray. Kissing your starets head goodbye for one last time, I hopped on the wailing eastern wind and embarked on the journey to purgatory and paradiso, whence the summons came. But now, stuck somewhere far away in this land with grim grey skies and a morbid complexion, I’m starting to contemplate the ill fate of my latest trick. For now I realize that amidst all the buzz and bloom prevailing within the vast cosmic expanse of your tote, you might never find me hiding at all. In some drunken haze of an ungodly hour, I was certain this was the only way to remain found, but now it dawns on me that both you and I, could be irrecoverably lost to me. Now, I am forced to think that this must be what endings are all about- the uncertainty. And then somewhere on a thin red line between unmitigated horror and unconditional liberation, everything just snaps.

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