The Desert's Edge ➣ Gloss/OC

Or speculates with any certain prose

Chapter Fifty Nine | Or speculates with any certain prose

"Thou art not conquered. Beauty's ensign yet

Is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks."

5.3, 94-95 Romeo and Juliet, Shakespeare

"ELARA!" Gloss shouts, voice thundering through his small apartment. His tone is aggravated and she raises her eyebrows at the sound, pausing as she pulls her arms through one of his shirts.

"What?" she asks, lifting her voice so that he can hear her. She promptly returns to her task of buttoning the shirt up, ignoring him in favor of getting dressed. When he doesn't immediately respond, she rolls her eyes and walks out of his bedroom, peering into the kitchen.

He's standing in front of the sink, frowning as he glowers at the dirty dishes laying inside of it. For a moment, she has to battle down the laughter that wants to spring from her lips at the sight he makes, all irritated and annoyed. Gloss is weird about cleanliness. He likes when everything has a place and gets annoyed when she makes messes and forgets to clean them up. It's amusing because he doesn't seem like the type who would care about things like that, but he does.

He must feel her eyes on him, because he turns around to face her. She wipes away her smile before he sees it and clears her throat. His irritation is endearing, though he would probably get even more annoyed if she were to tell him that.

"Do you not know how to wash dishes?" he grouses. It takes him a moment to realize that she's wearing his shirt. When he does, half of his annoyance is doused away in wake of the admirable way she manages to look so good in his clothes. It isn't enough to make him forget his perturbance entirely though.

He mumbles to himself as he turns back and reaches for the soap, lathering up the sponge. Then, in a slightly louder voice, he mutters, "You're like a fucking tornado. You always turn my place upside down whenever you're here..."

Elara lifts a hand to her mouth to press back her smile. This time, he notices. He glares at her from the corner of his eye and she clears her throat again. The smile is quickly erased, but she can't hide the glimmer of mirth that shoots through her gaze.

"Sorry," she tells him, but doesn't sound very apologetic about it. He huffs and flips the water on with an aggravated flourish, and she swallows back a snicker as she walks towards him. "I'll do it if you're so annoyed," she says, and starts to shove him out of the way.

He doesn't budge. With a scoff, he says, "I don't trust you to do it right."

She gapes at him in mock offense and playfully retorts, "I can wash dishes just fine, thank you!"

He rolls his eyes at her and doesn't respond. There's the lightest trace of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth though, which she'd have to be blind not to notice. It's what makes her dart her hand into the water and flick some of it into his face. If he was truly angry with her and not just making a good show of it, she wouldn't have dared. When Gloss is well and truly angry, he isn't a man that should be trifled with. But right now...

He jerks back in surprise and proceeds to glower at her. She just leans against the edge of the sink with a smirk and waits for his retribution, which is definitely coming. Gloss doesn't just let people get away with messing with him without fighting back. It's partially why she loves to mess with him so much. The other reason is simply because the expressive way he gets his revenge is strangely addictive. She's perhaps a bit masochistic when it comes to him, but only because his form of retribution is usually rather enjoyable.