((AN: For Sophy, because we were commiserating about there not being any AtolixAlkaid fanfiction to be found. Well now there is, hurr.))
Atoli can hear the faint click through her M2D headset, the whoosh of air past a microphone. She looks over to the girl next to her, the PC's fingers split to allow for what would be a cigarette in real life, but in-game is nothing but a nonexistant stream of data. That doesn't explain the ash on Alkaid's fingers, but Atoli has learnt to accept the World's way of dealing with things.
"I still don't understand why you do that," Atoli says softly, looking at her reflection in the water beneath her feet.
"What? Smoke?" Alkaid's voice is harsh compared to Atoli's lilting whispers, and a misanthropic grin stretches across the Twin Blade's features. "It's not like you can smell it, stop whining."
"Still," Atoli protests, "it's going to hurt you." Alkaid can't help but notice the concern in the Harvest Cleric's eyes, the slight crease of brow.
As Atoli watches, Alkaid's face contorts into something like a grimace, but without the negative undertones. "That...matters?"
"Of course it does!" Atoli yells; then, realizing her volume through the look on Alkaid's face, she turns away, biting her lip. She pulls her legs close to her chest, watching reds and yellows swirling in the river's water. So strange for the streets to be so empty during this time of day; so strange, when Mac Anu sunsets were so exalted.
Alkaid's hand brushes Atoli's cheek, and the cleric turns, eyes widening at the expression on Alkaid's face - curious, yet simultaneously serious, and her eyes have that near-feral gleam in them, even though they're just computer data -
Then Alkaid's hair is glowing with the dying sun, strands of the stuff falling on Atoli's face. Alkaid's lips are pressing against Atoli's and the cleric can feel hard wood against her back. Alkaid moves to straddle Atoli, one hand clenched almost painfully tight in blonde hair, the other resting just underneath the hem of Atoli's skirt. Atoli mumbles something into the kiss, arms tightening around Alkaid's back, and it's just enough for the two girls to be close, so close, that Atoli can smell the ash on Alkaid, ever so faintly, enough to seem Atoli's imagination -
And then Alkaid is sitting by Atoli's side, wiping the saliva away from her mouth with the back of her hand. The Harvest Cleric lies on the bride for a moment, allowing the swell of emotion to die down in her stomach and savoring the lingering aftertaste of cigarette.
Atoli sits up, adjusting her hat and looking across the now dark Mac Anu sky.
"We missed the
sunset," says Alkaid from her side, and Atoli turns from that
playful smirk with a coy smile and a blush.
//end
