❝ BLOOD AND PETALS DEVOUR THEIR LUNGS, BREATHS DEVOTED TO EACH OTHER. ❞
花 ━━ Chōsō and Tsukumo Yuki aren't always destined to meet. In the worlds they do, falling in love comes inevitably, a pull of magnetism neither can ignore. A strange gravity th...
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It's Monday. Yuki has been very careful not to think much about it―lest she finds herself distracted and has an accident at work, or something. It's a test to her own work ethic, and to her capacity to concentrate when there's something clearly on her mind, but she manages.
Being a stuntwoman requires a certain amount of diligence―at least, enough not to die. In all the years she's spent between stunt and stunt, Yuki has only been to the hospital twice. Once, at the beginning of her career; the other, when there'd been a malfunction in the equipment and she'd ended up with a broken leg and bruises everywhere.
However, it's Monday 27th, and she's very close to calling it a day. In just a few hours, she'll be on a tattoo chair with his hands on her body and his gaze upon her skin, and Yuki just―
She sighs.
It's the last session for this tattoo. It covers her entire thigh, and colouring has taken a while. It's beautiful already, and she can't wait to see it done, knowing it will be as perfect as the rest. But, deep down, Yuki knows that the reason she keeps going back to that tattoo shop isn't for the artwork. It is, in part: he draws beautifully, whether on paper or on skin, and she's honoured to wear his art on her body.
But he's beautiful, too. His hands are gentle, nails covered in chipped dark polish, a ring or two adorning them in their drawing sessions. His eyeliner is always messy, his hair resembles a bird's nest most of the time, and he has dark circles under his eyes. He wears black clothes, or at least he's done so the days she's seen him, and he's covered in tattoos, sleeves and neck and letters in his fingers.
He's gorgeous when the light of the studio hits him right, and when it does not.
She might be getting lost on him.
(She knows she's beautiful, as well. His eyes track her body and he smiles when she cracks a joke, and he's not the only one. He has never been the only one: men have fallen at her feet countless times, and she has wanted some of them, even has loved a few. Still, there's something about him: about the way she wants to know what makes him laugh the most, how he sounds when he's lost in pleasure, about the way she wants to get into arguments with him only to talk it out, how she wants to show him her favourite places in the world and share with him the parts of herself she keeps under lock and key, learning about his in return.)
She's known him for a while, give or take a few months. And now that she knows she'll be staying in the city semi-permanently―since work is abundant at the moment, her services solicited―she wants to try.
