Random Writings Of A Random Writer

Open Door: Quailius x Tamar

Should I be writing something for my Star Wars fics or even editing the F&S chapters coming out? Oh 100%

Am I instead writing fluff for two side characters for my original stories that does really nothing to advance their plot, but it's for funsies? Also, yes.

From your favorite random writer who should take a time management course, enjoy~

Trigger warning:
portrayal of a trauma trigger/ slight panic attack.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Quailius Sorna's house was quiet except for the muted sounds coming up the basement stairwell. Thuds, smacks, and grunts sung out periodically, muffled by the thick walls.

Quailius' back hit the hanging punching bag in the corner of the small sublevel gym, and she grunted from the impact. She'd been thrown into it. Her red and blue striped opponent grinned hauntingly and made to grab her. She narrowly dodged by falling into a flip and springing from her hands back to her feet. She squared up, fists in a defensive position in front as he circled her. He was looking for weak points. She wasn't about to give him any.

He charged towards her like a bull, arms aimed to catch her middle. Quailius nimbly lept out of the way and upwards, grabbing hold of the handles hanging from the low ceiling and pulling herself up between two of them. She used the rungs to swing around, her heel connecting with the assailant's jaw and sending him reeling backward. She landed in a graceful crouch in front of him and swept a leg out, catching his.

The man fell to his back with a huff, and Quailius lunged, meaning to pin his neck. But he recovered too quickly, and his hands caught her extended wrists. He used her own moment to flip them, and Quailius ended up the one pinned. She was on her back, the man over her. His legs held hers down, and he had her wrists trapped beside her head. He smirked arrogantly as Quailius struggled and hissed in his hold, eyes wide and fierce.

"Got you now." He taunted, leaning down to her face. Quailius would have to do the unexpected. She shot her head up and kissed him.

Tamar got over his suprise quickly, and as predicted, he went slack at her kiss. His hands released her wrists to tenderly cup her face and bring her closer to him. The muscles holding her limbs loosened, and she easily slipped from his hold. Her arms snaked over his shoulders. Her fingertips trailed down the pattern stripes on the back of his neck in a way that made his stomach begin its own freestyle dance routine. He felt Quailius' mischievous smirk against his lips, and her hands found his own wrists. Her torso popped up, tipping his. Before he knew what was happening, somehow Tamar was on the ground. Quailius wrenched his hands away from her face, pinning them against his chest; which subsequently held his upper body down.

Quailius broke off the kiss and reared her head up triumphantly. "You were saying?"

Tamar slowly blinked back to the present and looked around. "Wha.. Hey, hey!" He squirmed in her hold. "Oh ho, that is so unfair! We never said you could use your charms to manipulate me." He pouted.

"Charms? Me? I would never use such underhanded methods." Quailius goaded, her voice dangerously warm and silky. She held his wrists easily with one hand while the other reached out a finger and gently traced the faint scar on his cheek.

"You're using them right now." Tamar mumbled, voice husky. Quailius chuckled, in her usual barely audible or noticeable way, and slid off of him.

Tamar propped himself up on one elbow. "Hey hey, where are you going? Come back I wanna be charmed some more." He scrambled. "How's about the best two out of three?"

"That was best two out of three. I win." Quailius breezed.

"Ok. Three out of five?"

"You're annoying when you're desperate." She shot him down.