Helios licked his nose insolently, before bending to lick drops of water off Ace’s feet. He washed one spot assiduously, before hopping in the shower and looking up at the shower head. Then he looked at Ace, tail waving, and back at the shower head.
She turned back to Helios, rubbing at the damp fur so fiercely the ragdoll emitted a small ‘meh’ in protest. She muttered grumpily under her breath, something about stupid boys and their stupid long legs and stupid skin and stupid smiles, and then she flung the towel across the room and whirled on Ace. “You think you can just sit there on my couch with practically nothing on and it’s like a game to you, isn’t it, you like toying with me, but you can’t even make a proper move, can’t just, you know, /say/ something, no, you have to fuck around and fucking be nice and sweet and then come in here like, like, like /that/ — I hate you, I hate you so much — !”
She glared at him, fists clenched by her side, chest heaving, and it was clear that she didn’t hate him at all.
Ace liked to play coy, pretending not to notice the effect he had on Summer, because once he did admit that she felt for him what he did her, there was no going back for him.
He couldn’t see her the same way… he just couldn’t. And that scared him. The lad felt strangely content with black and white, but now that she’s here, the faintest of colors were forming right before his eyes and he swore he’d never grow accustomed to the luxury.
When she launched the towel across the room and whipped around to face him, the lad sat up in his seat a little, one hand brushing through his mop of curls.
With her little outburst, he’s been thrusted inside her orbit, and it’s too strong a force to resist.
What to do, what to do.
His final thought on the matter? Fuck it.
“Shut up,” he said, a smile slowly beginning to grace his features as he rose from where he sat and approach her; each step small and deliberate until he stood directly in front of her, and reached out to caress her soft cheek.
“You do not tell me to shut up, Aodhan O’Malley,” she snarled, ready to deliver another impassioned speech. And then he was in front of her, fingertips brushing her cheek. She had to tilt her head way back to look at him, and she broke off with a splutter.
“You just make me!” she exclaimed instead, lamely. She resisted the urge to back up a step. Or move forward a step. “What the hell are you smiling about? You think this is funny? When we both know perfectly well I’m not your type, not one of those fly-by-night once-and-done bitches that aren’t good enough for you — !”
It rather took some of the force out of it to be saying all that to his bare chest, or having to look up a solid foot at him. She growled.