Disclaimer : Dota still owns by Valve, yadda yadda.
A/N : Holy macaroni this tooks awhile. Hi.
I'm still alive. Year-two of this pandemic. Y'all good?
Anyway, thanks to you who leave reviews and the one person that msg me on continuing this story, who makes me decide to-what the heck! I'll finish this writings!
Oh, and also, I've been spending the past year on refining my writing(s)-it's not dota, unfortunately-so maybe, hopefully, y'all can see some improvements from here on out.
Chapter 4 — Do I Wanna Know?
Have you got colour in your cheeks?
Do you ever get that fear that you can't shift the tide
that sticks around like something in your teeth?
Are there some aces up your sleeve?
Have you no idea that you're in deep?
.
A subtle tune of recorded voice slit through my now dim-lighted living room. The song flowed down across the room, sourcing on a boxy radio on the kitchen counter. I'm laying down on top of a sofa, surrounded by wool blankets that hug my feet tightly. I can smell a hint of minty scent, and it took a few seconds to collect my awareness to see where—or whom—it was coming from.
Sven.
The man came first as my eyes found him leaning on the sofa that I'm laying on, and I came straight to his side profile, his cheekbone only an inch away from my nose. I can feel my heart skip a beat.
His eyes were closed, and I can tell that the god's blessing him with a set of unfairly dark lashes, his eyebrows are thick and esthetically shaped, straight upward. The parts that were holding my attention the most are his closed lips, which are rather thin, with defined shapes of curls and a few realistically chapped parts on the bottom half—must be the cold of Icewrack winter.
I absent-mindedly reach out my finger to touch those lips, and to my surprise, it's rather a soft, gentle flesh that I didn't expect to feel based on how it looks.
At that very moment, I realize that this is the very first time I see this man up close. I try to compose my breathing as I savor the moment, not once letting my sight trail off of his face. Some thoughts are racing inside my head. My fingers move slowly, trailing a soft stroke along his jaw, and stops to feel myself realizing what I'm doing right now. Oh shoot.
I can see his breathing is significantly heavier as his head moves, ever so gently facing me, and slowly, his eyes open.
In this rather minimum light, I can tell that his eyes are looking straight at me. It strolls down on my lips, rising upward to the bridge of my nose, till finally sets on my eyes. I can't help but welcome his dark blue glance to pierce into mine, locked.
His mouth opened slightly,
"Hi." The hoarse voice that was somewhat familiar broke the silence.
"Hi..." I whisper.
Then, another silence—not the heavy kind that floats around a dead conversation, and not at all tense. Maybe it's the slumber atmosphere, or maybe we're just in a drowse. I could hear the flicker from the fireplace as I could feel his breath and mine, and being this close to Sven, somehow gave me the courage to be still in the moment—and frankly, it's comforting.
Without a word, he slowly pulls his hands and holds my fingers that still lingers on his face. A jolt of worries struck me, but it quickly faded as he stroked his thumb along my guilty fingers. He doesn't mind.
I gave another look at him and he didn't flinch, as he slowly pulled my fingers closer to his face, and landed it on his lips for a gentle, butterfly kiss.
I can feel the glimpse of breath leaving my body, as he closes his eyes and keeps holding my fingers captive. I couldn't be bothered to worry as his touch sets my whole body warmer somehow, and it felt... right.
After a few moments that feels like forever, he releases my hand—which didn't go too far, as I consciously stroke his cheekbone, and trailing to his temple. This man has one godly bone structure.
He blinks a few times as I gently brush his eyelid, for no reason at all. It brings me to a soft laugh, followed by his.
"What're you doing to my face?" His words slipped out between his breaths, I giggled some more before pinching his nose.
'Cause there's this tune I found that makes me think of you somehow
And I play it on repeat
Until I fall asleep
Spilling drinks on my settee
.
The warmth of his breath felt close against my face. His daring profile went close, merely a millimeter away. The soft lips part a little, speaking silent words that we both know. Kiss me.
Then he leans. And my vision went dark.
My eyes close as his parted lip touches mine, gaping for a deep kiss. All the sensation of my body was focused on my face, my lips—that touch his. Nibling, sucking.
It wasn't a first for me, and certainly not the last. We parted after a few moments, savoring the atmosphere and inhaling some breath. He leaned against me, once more, without rejection and again, it happened. Another kiss, and after that, another. Longer, warmer, and deeper every time.
Do I wanna know?
If this feeling flows both ways
Sad to see you go
Was sort of hoping that you'd stay
Darling, we both know
That the nights were mainly made for saying things that you can't say tomorrow day
.
My body clock has me awake every dawn, right after the sun has peaked its magnificent light into Icewrack's cold sky. Today was no exception, even though I barely had any sleep last night. My eyes were shut, but my mind was awake. What happened?
That happened. I shouldn't elaborate on the details as it makes my cheeks flutter with warm embarrassment, but somehow knowing I did the deed with this man—the one whose body brushes against my bare skin under the silk of my bed—I didn't feel guilty at all. It felt, as I said earlier, right.
He moves again, ever so slightly, in his slumber. I can feel his chest, sprinkled with slightly thick hair, caressing my back. His skin against mine, warm.
And just like that, I held my breath—again. Oh God, how could I still live while this man always took my breath away?
Carefully, I turn my body against him, feeling every muscle that I could feel, only to stop when his breathing touches my forehead. One tilt of my head brings me to a view of his jaw, his thin lips slightly open with sleep breath.
This man is unfairly beautiful. I'm dying not to wake him up by my touch, my kiss, or even my intense stare.
Then it hits me, between his rising and lowering gesture of his chest, between his warm breath on my face, and between my now hardly-beating heart; I have no clue who this man really is.
Should I ask? Where is he from? Where is he going? What was he doing here in Icewrack? And heck—do I wanna know the answers?
"Mmmh… Rylai?" His hoarse voice woke me out of my cloud. He's awake!
"Umm, hi." I answered with a slight whisper. "You sleep okay?"
"Never been better." Sven took his giant arms around me, then squeezed. "You're warm…" He nuzzled his face into my hair.
"... and you smell nice, a perfect slumber company," said the man.
I try to hold my grin as much as I can, but I can't.
"You feel nice."
I cannot believe those words came out of my mouth—it felt wrong!—but Sven's subtle laugh just confirmed the reality that I, Rylai Crestfall, just word out the most un-Rylai thing on earth; how a man feels on me.
"Hahaha. While you're something else, Rylai. A 'nice' couldn't make up for it. You're… unreal." The man smiles while looking right into my eyes.
Then he kissed me. Deeply. Devouring every sense of logic in my head, making me let my fingers slid through his dark, coal-colored hair, and—
Knock-knock-knock.
"Shit." Crap. Now I swear?!
"What is it?" asks Sven.
"Someone's on the door. Let me just—"
I stood up only to hastily pick up the—almost—falling blanket, nearly revealing my bare chest. I need to get dressed. Fast.
Seconds later I scrambled my steps across living room, only to turn the doorknob and with a single pull…
"Rylai? Are you alright? I haven't heard from you since yesterday, and Mrs. Auroth told me something about your sister, and—"
"Ymir!" I cut off his sentence. "W-what a delightful surprise!" Except it wasn't. This is bad. Bad Timing. A really, really bad one.
"Rylai? Who's—" Sven's voice trails off as he sees Ymir on the doorstep. I can feel his gaze darken as he continues, "... this?"
.
.
A/N : Dun-dun-duh! I'm back! And hopefully, now for the last time, as I determined to finish this story. I really do. As much as I determined to wreck the enemy's ancient.
Anywho, PS for my real-life dota friends and/or followers who knows me outside of -PLEASE don't confront me too much about this story ;-; I'm shy. It makes me shy-ing. And also a lil bit cringe. But thats okay.