Doors Halloween (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} doorsween) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} doorslogs, |
She didn't like being ruffled, not by this man (not by any - especially the ones tailor made for ruffling) but this one did it differently at least. He was solid, not twisty, and though she frowned at him again, she stayed. "Don't laugh," she insisted, imperious, because she'd had enough of that too. Her life had become quiet and without laughter, and she was certain that was how she wanted it for now. "I'm a different sort of cat," she revealed to him, the secret she'd been keeping suddenly not so important to hide, and she gave it away without worry.
Her ear flicked forward at his question, and her brows rose again. "You don't want to give me your own sort of name? Make me into something more to your liking?" There was something innocently sad about her words, unblinking gold searching for what made him different. "'They' is everyone." If it was hyperbole, there was no hint of humor to it.
It took her until that moment to notice that he had closed the space between them even more, and she looked down at their bodies while her hand remained resting in its place along his jaw. She leaned toward him, slow and curving, raising onto her knees just enough that she could press against his side, skin and worn thin fabric against the heavier material he chose to cover himself with. She was a line of warmth and a pleased throat-born rumble as his solid frame was enough to support her. Her next words were barely more than the smoke still wreathed around them. "Are you going to stop hiding from me?" It was accompanied by the careful walk of fingertips finding the edge of his scarf and tracing along it, not tugging yet, though the desire to do so was obvious in the angle of her slight smile.