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Post by Trent Frey on Jan 13, 2010 16:20:07 GMT -5
Lyric turned his head to look at Quinn, his mind taking paths he didn't want it to take. "I've known people like that," he said softly. He let his gaze linger, let her see just that much in his eyes before he looked away again. People like that were why he would never be normal, why he would never feel comfortable with others. Why he'd failed so horribly with Jory. He hoped the grace period ended soon.
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Post by Quinn Ashwinder on Jan 13, 2010 18:32:58 GMT -5
Quinn saw the look in Lyric's eyes, a look she hadn't seen the first time she'd met him, and she understood more about him. She wouldn't press, it wasn't something you talked about until you were ready. Quinn looked at Lyric, taking a second measure of him, his hair, his clothes, "That sucks," she said. And she meant it, just that simply, no one could change what had happened, but it sucked. She would not wish it on anyone else, wished the world could change.
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Post by Trent Frey on Jan 13, 2010 22:33:20 GMT -5
Lyric nodded and didn't say another word. He didn't want to talk about it, didn't even want to acknowledge that he'd said anything before. He didn't want to acknowledge any of this. The conversation could die, as long as it meant he could look forward instead of back. It shouldn't be too much longer...
The next hour or two was spent floating without a thought or care. He forgot everything, and when he found himself in the room again, he still felt light, still felt comfortable with himself in a way he never could sober. Everything felt right.
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Post by Quinn Ashwinder on Jan 13, 2010 22:41:33 GMT -5
Whatever Quinn had been expecting hadn't been that, she thought as she drifted out of that dreamlike state. There hadn't really been forgetting, not like she'd thought there would be, but rather an odd dream-memory of herself and Kiley, from a long time ago. It had been even stranger to realize that she, although present hadn't been present. She wasn't sure that she liked the feeling at all, but she'd seen a memory she hadn't remembered having. After a dream like that Quinn wasn't sure she wanted to say anything, especially not if Lyric had been feeling something similar, it seemed like to much of a imposition. Instead she looked over and Lyric, seeing something more at ease in him, something that made him look much more...something, she thought with a soft grin, something she couldn't explain to herself.
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Post by Trent Frey on Jan 13, 2010 23:29:30 GMT -5
Lyric loved floating like this, and when he turned his head to see Quinn smiling at him, his lips curved in response. It was a small smile, but one that was easy and genuine. The tension around his eyes had eased, leaving them wide-pupiled and open where he normally kept himself so closed off. There was nothing to hide, no past, no future, only this perfect moment.
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Post by Quinn Ashwinder on Jan 13, 2010 23:51:20 GMT -5
Quinn blushed when Lyric looked up at her, his eyes a deep color that reminded her of something safe and comforting, which seemed to be something she'd been thinking since Lyric brought her to this room. Her fingers wrapped into the side of her hair and her eyelids lowered over her eyes and she thought about how much she liked having made a friend today.
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Post by Trent Frey on Jan 14, 2010 0:28:22 GMT -5
Lyric continued to watch Quinn, by far the most interesting thing in the room. If he'd been anywhere in the school besides the Room of Requirement, he'd have stood by now and made his way back to the dorms, or at least the Common Room, to finish the rest of the ride, but it was safe here, and there wasn't anything he wanted in the room that wasn't there. There wasn't anything there that shouldn't be. His smile remained, though it eased further with continued relaxation.
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Post by Quinn Ashwinder on Jan 14, 2010 0:46:46 GMT -5
The silence left Quinn feeling fulfilled in a strange way that she wasn't used to, but still liked. She was attributing these feelings to Lyric, because he was the one who had set all of this up. Quinn slid off of her chair-like contraption, and slid closer to Lyric. What she was feeling demanded closeness, not distance, even if theoretically she knew that it might be something Lyric didn't like. She'd meant it when she said that she wasn't afraid of him, but it was much more than that now. Trust. Such an odd little word, safety sounded better. She slid down next to him on his cushion, blushing again as she did.
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Post by Trent Frey on Jan 14, 2010 1:03:09 GMT -5
Lyric looked at Quinn distantly for a moment before he decided that it was warm and somewhat comfortable sitting like that. If he'd had any physical contact since the last time he'd touched Jory, it had been very little and very brief. An accidental brush at a club, perhaps. The part of him that hid beneath the layers of hatred, anger, and fear wanted that contact, and his mind was too far gone to see anything but the want. He didn't initiate much more contact than they had just with her sitting by him, but what he did initiate was a soft press of lips.
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Post by Quinn Ashwinder on Jan 14, 2010 10:17:10 GMT -5
Lyric's movement was a shock to Quinn, not a jarring shock, but one that she hadn't expected, she had just intended to be closer to Lyric. Hadn't she? However when Lyric's lips pressed against hers, something she didn't understand wiggled free of herself. She'd never been allowed near boys until she'd come to school, and then, well no one had come near her. What was happening she couldn't explain, outside of something warm and soft feeling inside of her. Quinn let her lips press back against his, her eyes sliding shut, and her fingers settling against one of his hands.
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Post by Trent Frey on Jan 14, 2010 10:52:19 GMT -5
In any other situation Lyric might have recoiled from such a direct touch, but he was hardly aware of himself and there was nothing to tell him that he shouldn't do this. It felt nice, and so he went on, slowly moving from that soft pressure to something more. He had no goals, no sense of urgency, but then, how could he when his muscles were still heavy with relaxation?
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Post by Quinn Ashwinder on Jan 14, 2010 11:16:08 GMT -5
For Quinn everything was new, intriguing, this was better in her opinion than the forgetting dream that Lyric had given to her. Not that she hadn't enjoyed that, just that this...felt, again that indescribable feeling that was making her want to giggle. Instead of giving in to her urge to blush and giggle though, that something else in her, something she had never met before was taking a front seat, following what Lyric did first, and then trying that back on him again. Her lips curved against Lyric's though, and her skin was dusted with a light rosy hue.
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Post by Trent Frey on Jan 14, 2010 11:28:09 GMT -5
Lyric was moving on instinct and impulse, his mind blissfully empty as he kissed her. There wasn't a thought to what he was doing, not a thought to the motion of his hand settling low against her back, then slid up her spine. He didn't do this when he was out partying, didn't seek contact beyond the crush of a dance floor, but somehow, it had felt like she'd understood a part of him without his having to tell her anything, really. There was just enough of a connection through that to let him be able to do this, to touch her and feel how different this was from anything he remembered having done before.
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Post by Quinn Ashwinder on Jan 14, 2010 11:39:28 GMT -5
A low shiver raced down Quinn's spine when Lyric's hand slid up her back, and for a moment, she opened her eyes to look at him. Gone was the boy who she'd first met, gone was the man she'd run into again in the corridor today. Replaced was something else, someone that Quinn thought might be truer to who he wanted to be inside. She understood that, she thought, could embrace wanting and needing to be something you couldn't be with anyone else. It made the moment more special, as a second later she closed her eyes again and slid her hand up Lyric's arm, and into the long locks of hair near his scalp. She grinned again as they worked to get that close, through the hair that was standing out and up around his head.
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Post by Trent Frey on Jan 14, 2010 12:05:03 GMT -5
The increase of contact, however innocent it might have been, urged Lyric to go on. He could only remain a distant onlooker for so long before actual desire worked its way into things, and so the kiss deepened now, intensified as his hand strayed from her back. Instinct said to explore, to find out what she liked and exploit it mercilessly. Impulse said that if he forced himself to move, to shift a bit over her just so, that he'd be more comfortable.
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