It isn’t quite sensory overload. But it comes close. The sight of the two girls together, each beautiful in her own way. Apolonia’s skin brought into sharp contrast with the green silk scarf Anandi so dearly wants to tear off. Aghavni’s pearls, creamy white and singing, stolen from the ocean. Worse than that is the scent of them, warm and rich. Solterran, floral and foreign oils, spiced sweat. And Austin at her hip, sweating bullets, reeking of fear and desire.
Her heart is hammering mess, torn between conflicting desires and duties. And before she can untangle the threads of what it is she wants and what it is she needs, the proverbial apple of her eye says “I just--” and in that instant Anandi knows the next word is going to hit like a hammer on the back of the skull. But there’s not enough time to brace for it-- “forgot”-- and it’s like the rug is pulled from beneath her feet.
She
feels
ugly.
It only lasts a second, maybe two. It’s a new feeling. It’s a terrible one. In response to it, Anandi wants to rip someone’s throat out. Paint the town red. But she can’t very well do that-- not here, not now. Anandi also wants to sit down and cry. Floored, not in a good way. But she can’t very well do that either. Not here, not now. Not when there’s still so much dignity left to lose.
So she straightens her spine and she paints on a smile that is not at all tired, or sad, or lonesome. Meeting Apolonia’s monsoon eyes feels like stepping closer to the edge of a cliff. Anandi does so with a proud jut of her chin. “Oh Apolonia. Such a forgetful girl...” Painfully aware of the civilized company they keep, the kelpie bites back some impolite comment about punishment. But she reaches an invisible hand to tug sharp and sudden on a pretty clump of black mane.
Innocent as sin, her attention flutters to the Solterran Emissary with batted lashes. She returns the bow graciously, coral fringe folding to her poll as she lowers and unfurling as she rises. “Forgive me lady Aghavni, I should have recognized you. On behalf of Terrastella, welcome to the midwinter festival.” The girls drift slowly to the side of the dance floor, pushed by the current of swirling bodies.
“It seems you two have a lot in common,” Apolonia says.
“Oh?” Anandi finds herself deeply threatened by the thought of commonalities. “Well, we have similar eyes don’t we. And at least one mutual friend.” The word friend strained and cold-- ice on the lake that threatens to crack beneath the feet. Anandi glances to the friend in question, then back to her political equal. “Are you also a princess of a faraway tribe? Persecuted by distant cousins? Responsible for the survival of your species? Aquatic and carnivorous by nature?” Although the questions are rattled off one after another by some compulsion she cannot control, Anandi at least has enough composure to keep her tone light and airy. Though there is a growing strain to the edge of her smile. Surely some nasty expression is fighting for control of her face.
The kelpie glances quickly around the room, wondering when the hell Austin would be back. If she could not have someone’s blood, she needed that wine.
A N A N D I
@Aghavni @
some say the loving and the devouring are all the same thing
☾
