[ she wants him dead. empty-eyed like every kuruko he had ever come across. but her hand won't move.
it has to be him. like he'd done at the harvest festival, he is holding her back, insinuating himself into her very veins, into her muscles, keeping them from moving.
the illness her light-headed, her limbs weak, but she is not so disoriented that she can't muster a workaround. the element of surprise is on her side. if she can just strike with such suddenness that whatever is blocking her has no chance to raise its defense ...
as if in surrender, she drops her arm, lets the blade pull away from his neck. blood blooms at the line across his throat. she turns the knife in her hand. a choked, frustrated sob slips out of her, and in its wake, a slew of coughs right into his face because he is close, so close.
close enough that she can feel his breath, and it is impossible not to think of the challenges she had seen and how they'd ended, with bodies pressed together. one, even before anyone had yielded, until tau-ren had cried yield, yield between gasps of pleasure. if her own body feels hotter, it is surely just the fever.
she drives the knife down into the slope of his neck where it joins his shoulder. one sudden move. the wood blade stays lodged there. there's no blood. her hand leaves the hilt and she rolls onto her stomach to claw her way out from under him. she cannot look at him. she cannot look at what she's done. ]
(light nsfw dubcon & voyeurism references)
it has to be him. like he'd done at the harvest festival, he is holding her back, insinuating himself into her very veins, into her muscles, keeping them from moving.
the illness her light-headed, her limbs weak, but she is not so disoriented that she can't muster a workaround. the element of surprise is on her side. if she can just strike with such suddenness that whatever is blocking her has no chance to raise its defense ...
as if in surrender, she drops her arm, lets the blade pull away from his neck. blood blooms at the line across his throat. she turns the knife in her hand. a choked, frustrated sob slips out of her, and in its wake, a slew of coughs right into his face because he is close, so close.
close enough that she can feel his breath, and it is impossible not to think of the challenges she had seen and how they'd ended, with bodies pressed together. one, even before anyone had yielded, until tau-ren had cried yield, yield between gasps of pleasure. if her own body feels hotter, it is surely just the fever.
she drives the knife down into the slope of his neck where it joins his shoulder. one sudden move. the wood blade stays lodged there. there's no blood. her hand leaves the hilt and she rolls onto her stomach to claw her way out from under him. she cannot look at him. she cannot look at what she's done. ]