yousei-san (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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metamorphosis2016-11-18 11:47 pm
flair) wrote in metamorphosis2016-11-18 11:47 pm
Entry tags:
510;
Title: autumn colors, i think
Characters: Ginti, Aligula
Rating: G
He rarely reacts the way someone normally would, so when he goes quiet at her dressed in one of the kimonos he has in the back rooms—she feels utterly victorious. It's exactly the reaction she wants, exactly the reaction she never expects out of him, and she twirls her hair around her finger with a grin.
It doesn't last long, and there's something weirdly comforting in the way he tilts his head and points out she's wearing it wrong. Aligula frowns immediately, pushing herself up onto bar with a small huff. Ginti stares for another moment and points out another thing: it's too long for her.
"It was the first one I found," she replies, not quite as irritated as she would've liked to sound. "And like, this is totally my first time wearing one! It was really hard to get on tooooo..."
She tucks her legs beneath her, hating how hard the counter is on her knees (the kimono does not cushion it quite as much as she would've thought it would), and raises her chin at him. "If you're so totally bothered by it," and he probably isn't, but it's routine to accuse him of stuff like that and they both know it, "then fix it for me."
Ginti's gaze flicks away from her, resting on his kokeshi dolls before he sighs and presses his hand to his face. There's a beat before he motions her to follow him, rounding the bar as she turns on the counter.
"Take it off and I will."
She slides off with a delighted hum, bouncing after him best she can; he gives her a glance, but doesn't say anything else or do anything, really, and soon enough they're back in the room she snagged it from. It's harder to take off than she thought it would be, but maybe that's because she'd put it on wrong in the first place. It's frustrating and annoying, and she likes layers but she doesn't like them like this—
she decides she likes them a little more when Ginti grabs her hands and tells her to hold still.
Aligula tries her best, but she can't help but fidget as he sorts out her mess, touches as professional as a dressmaker's. Before long, the bright red kimono's between them, and she's left rubbing goosepimpled skin as he takes it apart and sets each piece in a line. When he looks at her, it's not with any interest in what she's got, and honestly, that irritates her a hell of a lot more than if he hadn't been looking at her at all. It's likely he notices that much (because he can read little things about her from time to time, just the way she can him), and he must know why, at least, because he doesn't ask, and you know?
That's irritating, too.
There aren't any lingering or unnecessary touches as he dresses her properly, which is something she expects but she's disappointed about anyhow, and she twists the edge of her sleeve in her hand as she studies his work.
"This is better," Aligula admits, keenly aware of the heat to her voice that... shouldn't be there, honestly; she should sound grateful instead, and she knows it, but instead of addressing that or letting him bring it up (or anything about this up) she jerks her gaze up to him and asks: "Do my hair, too?"
She could probably manage that herself, but Ginti motions her to turn around with a gruff fine and gently pulls her hair from its ponytail. She relaxes the longer he runs his fingers through it, and it's almost like routine. Instead of braids, though, it's a tightly-wound bun, held in place with hair pins and lacquered chopsticks that remind her of Mahiru; she's quiet when he finishes and when she reaches back to pat her hair to feel how he's done.
"It suits me," she finally says, tucking her hands into her sleeves. Ginti's quiet, and she can tell when he's about to speak because after a while she feels his eyes leave the back of her head.
"Yeah, it does."
She smiles and turns around, shifting on her feet; her retort's more reflexive than anything—"Look at a girl when you're complimenting her!"—though the expectant hum when he doesn't immediately reply is sincere.
Eventually he does—looks back at her, that is—and she waits, fingers tapping the underside of her arms in anticipation.
"It suits you." He says it the same way he'd said she was objectively cute, back when he was just Juri—not sure why it's important that he does what he's doing on purpose, or why it matters, or anything. She can't be totally certain he doesn't get why it matters (she has been working to change that, after all, and sometimes it seems like it sticks), and his attempt is good enough for her to sigh and take his hand, patting the back of it fondly.
"Thank you very much, Ginti. You're totally gonna make me blush with your smooth lines."
The side of his face twitches a little—he knows she's making fun of him, and Aligula squeaks when he pulls her up by her hand and lets her squirm in the air, whining about how mean he is, how cruel, how totally unfair he always is to her.
Characters: Ginti, Aligula
Rating: G
He rarely reacts the way someone normally would, so when he goes quiet at her dressed in one of the kimonos he has in the back rooms—she feels utterly victorious. It's exactly the reaction she wants, exactly the reaction she never expects out of him, and she twirls her hair around her finger with a grin.
It doesn't last long, and there's something weirdly comforting in the way he tilts his head and points out she's wearing it wrong. Aligula frowns immediately, pushing herself up onto bar with a small huff. Ginti stares for another moment and points out another thing: it's too long for her.
"It was the first one I found," she replies, not quite as irritated as she would've liked to sound. "And like, this is totally my first time wearing one! It was really hard to get on tooooo..."
She tucks her legs beneath her, hating how hard the counter is on her knees (the kimono does not cushion it quite as much as she would've thought it would), and raises her chin at him. "If you're so totally bothered by it," and he probably isn't, but it's routine to accuse him of stuff like that and they both know it, "then fix it for me."
Ginti's gaze flicks away from her, resting on his kokeshi dolls before he sighs and presses his hand to his face. There's a beat before he motions her to follow him, rounding the bar as she turns on the counter.
"Take it off and I will."
She slides off with a delighted hum, bouncing after him best she can; he gives her a glance, but doesn't say anything else or do anything, really, and soon enough they're back in the room she snagged it from. It's harder to take off than she thought it would be, but maybe that's because she'd put it on wrong in the first place. It's frustrating and annoying, and she likes layers but she doesn't like them like this—
she decides she likes them a little more when Ginti grabs her hands and tells her to hold still.
Aligula tries her best, but she can't help but fidget as he sorts out her mess, touches as professional as a dressmaker's. Before long, the bright red kimono's between them, and she's left rubbing goosepimpled skin as he takes it apart and sets each piece in a line. When he looks at her, it's not with any interest in what she's got, and honestly, that irritates her a hell of a lot more than if he hadn't been looking at her at all. It's likely he notices that much (because he can read little things about her from time to time, just the way she can him), and he must know why, at least, because he doesn't ask, and you know?
That's irritating, too.
There aren't any lingering or unnecessary touches as he dresses her properly, which is something she expects but she's disappointed about anyhow, and she twists the edge of her sleeve in her hand as she studies his work.
"This is better," Aligula admits, keenly aware of the heat to her voice that... shouldn't be there, honestly; she should sound grateful instead, and she knows it, but instead of addressing that or letting him bring it up (or anything about this up) she jerks her gaze up to him and asks: "Do my hair, too?"
She could probably manage that herself, but Ginti motions her to turn around with a gruff fine and gently pulls her hair from its ponytail. She relaxes the longer he runs his fingers through it, and it's almost like routine. Instead of braids, though, it's a tightly-wound bun, held in place with hair pins and lacquered chopsticks that remind her of Mahiru; she's quiet when he finishes and when she reaches back to pat her hair to feel how he's done.
"It suits me," she finally says, tucking her hands into her sleeves. Ginti's quiet, and she can tell when he's about to speak because after a while she feels his eyes leave the back of her head.
"Yeah, it does."
She smiles and turns around, shifting on her feet; her retort's more reflexive than anything—"Look at a girl when you're complimenting her!"—though the expectant hum when he doesn't immediately reply is sincere.
Eventually he does—looks back at her, that is—and she waits, fingers tapping the underside of her arms in anticipation.
"It suits you." He says it the same way he'd said she was objectively cute, back when he was just Juri—not sure why it's important that he does what he's doing on purpose, or why it matters, or anything. She can't be totally certain he doesn't get why it matters (she has been working to change that, after all, and sometimes it seems like it sticks), and his attempt is good enough for her to sigh and take his hand, patting the back of it fondly.
"Thank you very much, Ginti. You're totally gonna make me blush with your smooth lines."
The side of his face twitches a little—he knows she's making fun of him, and Aligula squeaks when he pulls her up by her hand and lets her squirm in the air, whining about how mean he is, how cruel, how totally unfair he always is to her.