#(( and we take a brief detour from the gay gaze for miranda to lie by omission

[royalreef]

@chaosmultiverse​ || Continued from here.

       “Dahlia,” she repeats again, more insistent now. The subtle sternness of the word, of the name folded against her tongue, shows in the flexing of her lips, the way she forms the sound against the harder wavebreakers of her teeth. Up this close, it’s harder to miss these details. There is no way the eye can’t see the shine on each and every one of those perfect ivory implements, their serrated edges speaking of what they could so easily do to anything caught within those rending jaws. Her gums, lining those fangs, are a soft grey-purple, strange to see as it fades into the pale yellow of her skin and then the pink flush of her lips and scales. The same color is inherited by her forked tongue, which moves with liquid grace as she breathes Dahlia’s name, cupping both of its tips around the syllables that form there.

        Behind that, Dahlia can see the golden chain of one of Miranda’s accessories, a scarf that cups her lower jaw as if tied there, ends weighted down with jewels that gleam in tandem with its gilded edges. The gemstones sway in the air as Miranda speaks, more to catch the light, and more to draw her eyes back in to Miranda’s face, to the fine curves of muscle and bone that make up her every expression. It is not too hard to remember that she is an apex predator here, though surely she steals breath for more than just one reason alone.

      Up this close, she smells like the sea, like great open beaches and the ebb and flow of the waves and the seafoam tossed high into the air as if in celebration and the white gulls that weave around it like lasting comments. There is an equal breath of strawberry, of scented soaps and perfumes and lotions, things that come with wealth and with care and with great baths to soak it into her scales so that she might cover up that eternal smell of the ocean itself. If Dahlia were to lean in, she might smell more, might catch the sharp scent of something almost metallic, but Miranda does not get that close. She doesn’t have to, when Dahlia can see her pulse, right below the soft underside of Miranda’s jaw, thrumming and alive and primal. It feels almost too intimate to watch, twitching against one of the few places where Miranda’s scales thin.

        “I am going to have to... leave out, for a while. I do not know-... I am not quite sure-... No, just- It is Merkingdom business. I will be back at the Royal Palace. Please do not panic, if you cannot get in touch with me.”

#Glory and Gore || IC #chaosmultiverse #A face like an iron fist that I could never resist || Dahlia x Miranda ( chaosmultiverse ) #(( and we take a brief detour from the gay gaze for miranda to lie by omission