Chapter Text
You stare ahead at the troll in front of you, mouth dry and the air stolen from your lungs, as if they were balloons that he took a pin to, that smile still on his face. That smile, sharp white teeth- sharp white teeth that he knew how to use- behind glossy lips tinted Violet, dark eyes gazing at you through thick, long eyelashes. Gazing at you like you're worth looking at.
A gold choker lines their neck and a chain of pearls draw your eyes down to their dress- the dress you know if their favorite. You tell yourself that it's because it's expensive, rich and heavy black velvet that sparkled like stars and was lined with silk. They tell you to your face that it's their favorite because you bought it for them, because you got something nice for them for their hatching day. They’d fretted so much when they’d opened the box with shaking hands that day, because despite knowing that the both of you were safe now, had steady income now, spending that much on a gift scared you both.
You’d both just returned home late from dinner- Jentha’s quiet snoring could be heard from another room. Distantly, you wonder how she’s doing, if she’s sleeping well, until your attention is directed to a pair of delicately painted claws toying with your jacket. Specifically, with your collar. You feel a warm rush of blood climb up the side of your neck at the slight contact and at the eyes peeking at you.
“You look really nice, Diz,” Murrit says, her hip leaning against the counter. You smile up at her like a sunflower greeting the sun, and you find a chuckle sneaking up your throat when you feel her press a kiss to your cheek.
“I could say the same about you,” You only resent the heels Murrit’s wearing because He’s already so much taller than you.
However, what you don't resent is the way they entwine their fingers with yours, the way one arm snakes around your waist, and the way their face feels buried in the crook of your neck. You lean up on your tiptoes to bring them closer, a slightly crooked, creaking purr rumbling in your every breath.
“‘M tired, sugar,” Murrit quietly whines, the warmth of her breath tickling your neck. You sigh and press your cheek to the crown of her head, black curls soft against your skin.
“Me too,” You hum, despite neither of you going to leave the kitchen for either of your rooms, or even the couch. You simply lean together, impossibly flushed and softly, sweetly red, in this impossible home, impossibly vulnerable. You let the soft animal of your body sway gently, eyes shut and curled around your partner, your heart so out in the open and so sharply red. It isn't even a thought in your mind that either of you could take the other’s heart and hurt them, truly, at their core like that- and you love that. You love him, you love that how vulnerable you can be, and how regular it is, making it barely even a thought in your mind as it grows hazy with sleep.
Eventually, you two do make it to your room, decidedly (probably because Murrit is avoiding cleaning their’s). You trade kisses as slow and sweet as dripping honey, you listen to the quiet music that their jewelry makes when they slip it off and onto the top of your dresser. You try to stop your hands from shaking when they ask you to unzip the back of their dress and they let you slip the spaghetti straps from their shoulders, all dotted with old scars and new freckles. You don't necessarily blush at the feeling of them observing you when you change out of your nice clothes and into an old t-shirt and sweatpants- in fact, you happily catch a glance at yourself and the top surgery scars on your chest in the mirror. For once, you're proud of how you look.
As usual when you sleep in the same bed, you two whisper quiet crimson words of affection to each other as sleep tugs you out of consciousness and closer together. You let your fingers trace imaginary shapes on their skin before they slowly grow heavy… and eventually… you both fall safely into a pleasant night.