The Desert's Edge ➣ Gloss/OC

This love is like a tangled untrod path,

Chapter Thirty Seven | This love is like a tangled untrod path,

"Wisely and slow. They stumble that run fast."

2.3, 94 Romeo and Juliet, Shakespeare

When Gloss kisses her, it almost feels as though Elara is being welcomed into another world. Sometimes that world is swept over with passion; other times, it's soft and caressing and it makes her feel like she's floating on some cloud somewhere, high above the terrors of this city. His arms are warm and they make her feel protected, even though she knows she isn't. But even so, when he presses her against the back of the couch and hikes her up onto it, the safety of his body makes her head spin.

She draws him against her, hooking her legs around his hips and tipping his head back to kiss him harder. He sighs against her mouth, hands sliding up her sides and pressing beneath the black silk shirt she's wearing. He thinks that her skin is even softer than the silk as he thumbs over it.

"Mmm...you're so warm," he tells her, burying his face against her neck and staying there for a moment, doing nothing but holding her. His hands slide around her back, flat against her skin as he keeps her right where she is.

Elara hums into his hair and kisses his ear, lips dancing over his cheekbone and up his temple. She slips her fingers over his scalp and smiles when he sighs out. Whenever she scratches her way through his hair, his reactions are spectacular.

Dusk is falling hard out in the streets of the Capitol, but neither of them notice the darkening hue of the sky or the way it makes the already slate grey city even more colorless. She has only just arrived an hour ago, straight from District 5. The small bag she always brings with her had been tossed rather haphazardly by the door. It has all the necessities that she doesn't keep in her apartment, but she'll go through it later. For now, she's far too preoccupied with sliding Gloss's shirt off his shoulders and leaning down to kiss every inch of revealed skin.

He leans back and lets her, planting his hands on the back of the couch that she's now perched on and watching as she places lingering kisses over his shoulders and neck. His eyes flutter a bit at the gentle way her mouth caresses him, especially when her hands slide over his lower abdomen and holds him closer by the belt loops of his trousers.

It's been far too long since she's explored his body. He intends on enjoying every second of it. But, when he lifts his hands to her face, wanting to pull her back into a kiss, Elara pulls away. When he sees where her attention has been drawn to, Gloss freezes.

He immediately pulls his hands back, but she stubbornly catches them before he can withdraw completely. She stares at his wrists for a long moment, face flickering with too many expressions to put into words until it finally settles into a solemn frown. He sighs and watches as she traces her fingertips very lightly over the bruises that surround both his wrists.

"...Client?" is all she asks, keeping her eyes trained to the ugly bruises. They're more faded now. He'd had a week of discomfort, and he's happy that she hadn't been there when it had occurred. Elara worries over him more than she should. Between the two of them, he thinks she should worry more about herself. She has it worse than he does, at least when it comes to hotel rooms and prostitution.

He twists his hands until he's holding her instead of the other way around, and sighs, "It doesn't hurt, Elara. Stop worrying so much."

What had hurt more was his pride, when he'd bit down his complaints and allowed his client to tie his wrists to the headboard. She only frowns more deeply, and he sighs again.