Anandi declines the platter of champagne that sweeps past, feeling deeply thirsty but also very self-aware after learning Apolonia wasn’t drinking. Aghavni swirls and sips with enviable grace, her stunning green eyes magnified by the glass as she slyly glances through it at Anandi. Once emissary to another, each sizing the other up and finding, finding--
finding conclusions they kept close, pieces in an elaborate board game.
It enrages Anandi to think that Apolonia would be playing for the other side, so she very forcefully does not think of it. She settles her attention heavily on the Solterran emissary, eyes lingering on lips as she says “I am neither carnivorous nor aquatic,” and smiling primly. I thought so. Her eyes continue to follow the girl as she whirls on the floor with ease, the whole crowd spinning now lithe as fallen leaves in an eddy of wind.
She thinks to herself “Do not look at Apolonia. Do not look at Apolonia.” Even as the entire left side of her body, angled toward the Solterran beauty, simmers with heat and barely suppressed desire. She leans in ever so slightly. Even after her shame, her jealousy, her wounded pride, she wants Apolonia like the ocean wants the moon.
Self control is immensely easier with Aghavni’s return. At least for a moment. She’s panting-- Anandi can smell her breath, sweet champagne; it makes her want to swim-- the heave of her chest suggestive of all that beautiful blood, surging in and out of the heart, in and out in waves that make Andi weak. She glances away, shoving down the hunger. It was so hard, sometimes, just to be civilized.
"The Hajakhas are a dying breed. My cousins— despise my father and in turn me. It is alright, I suppose. I am not so fond of them either.”
“Oh.” She chews her lip, frowning thoughtfully. If she weren’t so pretty, the gesture might seem childish or crass; instead it’s alluring. Who wouldn’t want to play those lips with their teeth?
“And finally, in Solterra my species is not so welcomed as yours.”
She sighs. "Well..." It is not easy, the transition she is about to make. Or rather, it is not easy to do it well. But Anandi and Aghavni and even Apolonia, they’re the kind of girls to whom things come easily, or at least appear to. The world, at their fingertips, trembles and leans in. They shaped reality by merely existing, moved crowds by sheer force of personality. They would make great enemies of each other, but greater still allies. Andi recognizes it, grudgingly-- it was so hard to deny herself the assertion of dominance her sharklike instincts craved-- and when she finally grins it is without the cruel edge of a jealous lover.
“Well I think some day we could be fine friends.” Well, “friends” was an odd choice of words; she says it with a laughter in her warm green eyes that won’t go unnoticed. Allies would have been better put-- if they had a common enemy, the young women would surely be a force to be reckoned with. “I would like to hear more about your family sometime, and tell you more of mine.” Her smile grows coy, suggestive of more private venues for such a conversation.
Before she can say something else, she’s sharply thrown off by the scent of blood. Apolonia. Green eyes snap to blue and yellow with an expression that isn’t sure what it wants to be-- surprised, concerned, predatory-- and lowers to look at the bloodied lip (a second too long, was that part of Apolonia’s plan?) with a kind of thoughtful relief.
She nods at Apolonia curtly, we’ll talk later, and picks up once again the bemused smile that has painted her lips all evening. Her entire mouth would be sore for days from all this damn smiling.
“I didn’t mean to turn the conversation to such… serious matters. Shall we dance?” The crowd is beginning some group dance she has no idea the steps to, but it is repetitive and seemingly simple. Normally she would not volunteer herself for such an activity, but it is late enough in the night that clearly nobody cares about who else is embarrassing themselves. There are others who clearly have no idea what they’re doing, or else are too drunk to coordinate their hooves.
And if she has the opportunity to brush shoulders and hips with such beautiful company, bouncing from one sweet, infuriating desire to the next... well, that’s hardly an opportunity she could pass up. As torturous as it was, the very edge of self control was her favorite place to be.
A N A N D I
@Aghavni @
some say the loving and the devouring are all the same thing
☾
