Re: (After)life: Nel L & Lear L
Some would say two predators could never be at ease around one another, because they would always be looking out for being made prey, but that wasn't entirely true. While Lear knew his sister was both powerful and dangerous, he didn't fear her, and he knew she didn't fear him. Maybe there was something to be said for sharing a womb—and maybe there was something to be said for a full belly. He wasn't hungry either, after all—or, he was hungry, but he wasn't starving. He laid back on the sofa with his first cigarette after the kiss and he watched his sister walk. "Maybe. You say quality, I say quantity." His words were just as offhand and disposable, but as far as investment went with Lear, he was more interested in watching right now.
When Nel turned back toward him, his cigarette was smoked nearly to completion. He let it fizzle out, his gaze not so much as softened by the gauze of smoke that hung between him and his sister. "I'm not choosy. A hole's a hole." Which was true. Lear didn't care. As long as it was on a person (he was somewhat choosier than others they'd grown up with, just for preferring people), he would fuck whatever hole was offered. He smiled serpentine slither, and he didn't bother hiding how he watched Nel on the sofa opposite. Her knees were wide, she was perched forward, and, even older, she was attractive.
"I haven't shed it," he said of the skin she knew. "It just tends to scare people." Like this one didn't. He pushed himself upright, long limbs in languid motion, and he reached for the cigarette case. The smooth metal was cool under his touch, and he passed fingertips over the skull. He opened the case, took a cigarillo, and lit it with the Vietnam lighter. He replaced both metal items on the coffee table, then stood as he inhaled.—Lear held onto the cigarillo between fingers as he walked idly around the couch and more into the space, looking around with unabashed interest. "That was a while ago." The Triangle. He smiled over his shoulder at Nel as she reclined. Smoke slithered out from behind lips and he shrugged noncommittally. "I don't go hungry." Usually.
He walked the space in circles, coming up behind the couch Nel was in. He leaned against the back with his elbows, beside her head. He took a drag, then exhaled. "What about you, sis?" He nodded toward the cigarette case and the lighter. "What've you been up to?"