Prompt: I can feel your heart beating.
At first, he barely registers her words, too busy being caught within the way the midnight shapes around her. Too busy being caught within how the moonlight flakes between the partly drawn blinds. Too busy being caught within the way it graces her bare legs, and shapes just at her hips. He's too busy ghosting finger tips amongst her hips, splaying over curves and tracing faint patterns, though he has no particular idea just what he's tracing into her skin.
Eventually, he idly hums, a feigned registration that she had spoken, and Hilary raises her brows in mild annoyance. Not that Kai actually notices the way her features contort with an essence of fury.
"Either you didn't hear me, or you're being ignorant." And neither surprises her to be honest. She etches that bit closer to allow her fingers to press lightly against his shoulders, as if in attempt to push him backwards. It works, but only just, and only because he wasn't paying attention, which isn't like him. The only time that Kai is anything but observant is when he's ill, and even then, that's a rare occasion. Or, something is bothering him, and he hasn't commented on anything yet.
"You're being ignorant, aren't you? Don't ignore me." A firm statement from Hilary, a sentence that holds a threat, a promise if needs be. Momentarily, she notes how the moonlights fickle gleam captures his face, how it moulds into position, and momentarily highlights features that would have otherwise gone unnoticed. It highlights the minor flaws, the little scuffs as a result from dangerous matches, scuffs that are usually well hidden, but when his guard is down and his mask is off, they become touchable.
"I wasn't ignoring you." It was more, he was too tangled within the moonlight blessed her, and how it could do so, in ways that Kai could only imagine was possible for himself. The moonlight has kind hands, oddly warm and generous, and they are genuine when they flutter the length of her frame, and he has rough hands. Scarred hands, and scuffed fingers, calloused digits and pained burned that resemble the past he's had. Hilary finds his hands to be strangely kind, timid. Sometimes his hands quake before they even have the opportunity to touch her, and Kai considers himself worthy of a lot of things, but not worthy of touching her.
"Alright then, so what did I say?" Nothing. He says nothing, just looks back at her, and shuffles within his place. One arm shifts, and rests behind his head in aid of supporting him whilst he watches her. Hilary's weight on the bed shifts from aside of him, and suddenly she's above him, thighs idly pressed aside of his hips, arms folded tightly across the span of her chest. He assumes that she must look somewhat annoyed by his apparent ignorance. He just found her so beautiful.
"Exactly, you weren't listening to me." Hilary's arms are still folded like a barricade, pressed tight, close and personal, and if anything, keeping her hands away from him, so they don't become an easy grab. Instead he's resting his free hand upon one of her thighs, thumbs dancing backwards and forwards across her skin, occasionally it shifts within position, to take up tracing a new pattern, but sinks back towards it's first position.
His eyes flutter upwards, and he watches her above him, his t-shirt loose upon her shoulders, hanging lightly against her waist, a mass of chestnut tinged tresses hanging loosely from her shoulders, escaping down her spine in a flurry, like a waterfall. So freely cascading. She's the most beautiful thing that he has ever seen.
"Daydreaming." His statement is blunt, but obvious, and she notes this. He used to ignore her bold statements and comments when they first met. She supposes that he used to write her off, like he wrote others off, but now he tends to ignore others if their statements are too within his face, or invade the barriers to which he creates. He rarely daydreams, it sounds almost like something that one of the others boy would do. Typically Chief whenever he hears the mention of Ming Ming. It doesn't seem like anything that Kai would do, but she doesn't press the matter further. She rolls her eyes instead and leans further over him.
"I said, I can feel your heart beating." Her hands have longed discarded themselves from around her chest and have moved to delicately ghost over his chest. Idly digits dance up the span of his chest, dotting patterns and tracing little things, little things that wouldn't make sense to others, but make all the sense to her. She's closer to him now, nose almost pressed up against his nose, his breaths so idly dancing between his slightly parted lips, and she feels it against her skin.
"That's soppy." Had it have been anyone else that would have said such a thing to her, she might have thumped them, or done anything to take back her comment, but it isn't just someone, it's Kai. Instead she prods her fingers a little harder into the dent of her chest, making her position known.
"Problem, wise guy?" Her brows have risen at this point, woven into one another, to form a faint constellation of contrasting colours amongst her flesh. She dips her head ever so faintly, her forehead pressed to his chest, a hand so idly seeking his hair, whilst the other is webbing with his hand. I can still feel your heart beating. And he's never felt so alive.