"Dammit Aysu, stay out of this!" Azar snapped as she stormed towards her loft near the top of the bataclan. Behind her, Aysu trailed her determinedly, eyes narrowed.
"Azar, he's a Trickster! Do you really think that he cares for-" Aysu stopped short as Azar whipped around, eyes blazing.
"Aysu." Azar's voice was a guttural growl. "Unlike you, I do not need platitudes of love and faithfulness to warm my heart." Sarkan was well aware of her possessive nature and Azar was slowly gaining a sense of what Sarkan deemed subject to his whims and relationships were not to be interfered with. "Whatever goes on between the Trickster and I is none of your business." Azar watched Aysu for a moment longer before striding away, slamming the door to her loft open.
"I don't want you getting hurt!" Aysu retorted, following Azar into the small room.
Azar turned and shoved Aysu back, hard, with a snarl. "Get. Out. Go cuddle with your sickeningly sweet unicyclist and leave me alone." Aysu opened her mouth before shutting it, studying Azar who met her gaze, anger palpable. Silently, Aysu turned around and left. Azar watched her leave stonily before collapsing backwards onto her bed with a sigh, closing her eyes. She was so very tired…
Azar's eyes snapped open, feeling familiar hands ghost over her torso as the bed sank under someone's weight. She stared up at Sarkan for a moment before smiling wickedly. She curled her hands in the thin lapels of his suit and yanked him down roughly for a fierce, bruising kiss. Sarkan let her, lips curving into a smile before he pulled away, chuckling darkly. "Ah Azar," he murmured, hands sliding down her sides and resting on her hips. "So very, very possessive." He bent down and brushed a soft kiss on the corner of her jaw. "Just the way I made you," he whispered.
Azar smiled up at him for a moment before scowling. "Like the way you made my sister?" she asked, still irritated over her sister's overprotective nature.
Sarkan tilted his head to one side, frowning thoughtfully. "Balance is many things, one of them beautiful," he finally said. "You and Aysu are a reflection of this. Granted it will lead to conflict on occasion..." He smiled at Azar's soft growl, leaning down to plant another kiss on her neck. "She truly cares for you," he said softly.
"I know," Azar muttered uncomfortably. "Still," she sighed. "I don't want her interfering with this. With us." She brushed her hands over the back of Sarkan's neck, stroking the sensitive runes there. Sarkan arched into her touch, a satisfied purr rumbling deep in his chest.
"She'll adapt," he murmured, eyes sliding shut. "If not…I can assure her of my intentions," he continued in a sly tone.
Azar hummed distractedly, trailing her fingers down Sarkan's chest. "Later, perhaps…" she suggested. Sarkan laughed gently before dipping down to kiss her again.
AN: ARGH. Ok, in Word, there are three centered dashes separating the paragraph where Azar kicks Aysu out and where her eyes snap open. Azar fell asleep for a bit and Sarkan found her like that.
Poor Aysu. She tries to protect Azar when Azar really doesn't need it. Of course, she won't let it go...
