Tales of Symphonia: Swimsuit
Aug. 15th, 2006 06:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
runespoorTitle: Swimsuit
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
runespoor7
Rating: PG-13
Words: 2600
Summary: Anna and Kratos take a day off at the beach, Desians or not. Flangst. Anna/Kratos.
Sometimes it was nice pretending they weren't on the run, weren't being chased by endless enemies, weren't wildly grasping at whatever straws might happen to present themselves, weren't, in short, on a respite. In theory, today should have been such a day, spent having fun on the beach in the sun with their kid and their dog.
Well, except that Noïshe didn't look particularly like any sort of average dog, Anna's hair managed to clash with everything that surrounded it and wasn't of one-hundred-percent human heritage, and Kratos had belatedly decided he would rather keep the shelter of his usual clothes. Kratos privately thought that Cruxis might have had more luck in finding their precious Angelus Project back if they'd focused more on the physical description of the escapee and less on the Crystal that shone on the small of Anna's throat.
His eyes followed the Crystal's point down before he could stop them; a strangled gurgle left his lips. He quickly looked up, straight into Anna's smirking face.
The dark-haired woman put her hands on her – nodon'tlook – hips and tilted her head.
"Well, what're you waiting for? Get into your swimsuit!"
Kratos tried to form words. His mouth, he found, was too dry. He nervously licked his lips and mutely shook his head.
"Oh?" Anna didn't seem too concerned by her lover's refusal. She swung her hair behind her shoulder, bringing his attention once more on – right. For what seemed like the tenth time in two minutes, Kratos forced his stare away. Only to spot the knowing sparkle in Anna's eyes. He hoped he wasn't beginning to blush.
"You look hot in that outfit," Anna continued in a concerned tone. "I'm sure you'd be more at ease if you were wearing something a little less stuffy."
Somehow, the energy needed to draw himself to all his height and deadpan his outfit was not stuffy eluded him.
"Not that you wouldn't look hot too, of course."
For a fleeting second, Kratos wondered if he wouldn't have been better off staying under Mithos's loving control. There was a resolute hint to Anna's painstakingly off-hand manner that would have been enough to make anyone turn heels and run.
The last time he'd witnessed it had been merely the day before, when a "bunch of Desian upstarts", quoting Anna, had fallen on them and paralysed and blinded him, obviously working under the common misapprehension that there wasn't much a single human woman could do against half a dozen heavily armed half-elves, particularly if they held impressive weapons right under the neck of her lover and baby child, threatening to make good use of them if she wasn't a nice girl and didn't come quietly.
The idea, Kratos assumed, was that she'd rather drop the pair of daggers she'd readily drawn out than risk it. It would have worked, too, if he had been the one defending himself and she'd been taken hostage. As it was, he'd only been able to watch her dark eyes glint steel.
She'd thrown herself at the Desian who'd picked up Lloyd, and a dagger deep into the throat of the one who held Kratos as a human shield. The angel had felt, more than seen, the blade rushing next to his ear, plunging in the half-elf's neck, the sudden gasp and the blood spurting from the wound, drenching Kratos's face and clothes, blinding him. He had felt the coppery taste in his mouth, as, unable to move, he could only listen to the sounds of the fight enfolding him, heart beating loudly and head made dizzy with unused adrenalin.
The massacre had lasted only a few minutes.
After the sounds of blades cutting into flesh and tearing into cloth had stopped, when the last dying imprecation had echoed on the surrounding rocks and the last helmet had rolled on the floor with a ringing sound, when the path was full with only Anna's hissing breath, Kratos had felt something cold and glassy being pushed against his lips. He'd recognised the characteristic smell of panacea, and he'd swallowed best as he could between stone lips.
Anna had wiped the blood of his eyes as he was returned to his living self. Her guard had been splattered with reddish droplets, as if she'd stood and danced under a wine fountain, and she looked dishevelled – like she did in the morning before she'd had breakfast. Her cheeks had been flushed from the fight, forehead and dark locks damp with perspiration; she'd been glowing a faint aura of danger, a set smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
When they interrupted their kiss, Noishe had returned, holding Lloyd's bundle in his mouth as if it had handles. Kratos had taken the baby back and whispered reassuring nothings that came more easily every day while Anna wiped her daggers on the cloak of a fallen enemy, but he couldn't help observing the spectacle of half a dozen bodies strewn all over the place. One of them had had her head cut in one thrust. His foot collided with it as they made for leaving; it held an expression of sheer terror on its face, and Kratos had been abruptly reminded of all the fools who'd angered Mithos and who'd only realised it when he'd turned his magic against them.
In front of him, Anna was still waiting. He wondered if the smile she was now sporting had been developed as they were on the run, or if he'd merely never noticed when it was directed at others, and if it was the case, what had he done that deserved this sort of treatment?
"Shouldn’t we watch over Lloyd?" he said, stalling for time.
She half-shrugged. The strap of her swimsuit slipped right off her shoulder. A third of Kratos' braincells informed him they really couldn't be expected to function under those kind of conditions, and went on a strike without so much as a good-bye.
"Noishe already is." She made her trademark lopsided smile. "And you know you'd have to wear a swimsuit to actually watch over Lloyd when he's in the water, right?"
The swordsman decided a dignified silence was the best answer.
"Swimsuit now or I'm going to have to do something drastic," the young woman said sweetly.
That Kratos wouldn't like her definition of drastic was left unmentioned.
He cast around for an escape. This situation hadn't arisen in about four thousand years; Mithos' attention to others had depleted since his sister had died, and even before, Martel would have effortlessly rebuked him when he started to get on someone's nerves. Most likely Kratos would have, however reluctantly, come over to Mithos' side of the argument before his older sister had to intervene and would have granted him satisfaction.
The last time he'd worn a swimsuit, he remembered, had been on Mithos' insistence.
"Oh, come on. You don't want me to resolve to cajoling and coaxing, right?"
Anna cajoling and coaxing anyone into anything was a laughable thought, as she was possibly the person the less suited in the entire universe for emotional blackmail.
Kratos had watched her striving to make Noishe have a bath, and it had been the most ridiculous, desperately awkward scene he'd ever beheld. Including the time Mithos had believed the "M" in "M+Y" had stood for his name, a few weeks after Yuan had joined the original trio on their journey. Anna's attempt had failed, of course.
Then a metaphorical whip had cracked in the air. Noishe had cowered and whimpered upon glancing at Anna's fiery eyes, and, when Anna had purposefully called him a bad dog, the archis had miserably gone into the water. Kratos hadn't been sure whether the pitiful air had been because of the bath or because of Anna's irrevocable judgement.
However, he wasn't going to back down if he could avoid it.
Beside, he wasn't an archis.
"The water will be cold…"
The reasonable tone he'd been aiming for died as Anna raised both her eyebrows. The swordsman looked away and regretted not believing in any deities that he could have prayed to this exact moment, as Martel would refuse to get involved and Origin was wholly unsuited.
Two hands settled on his shoulders and firmly pulled him down. Kratos let himself be manhandled and compliantly sat, the rough sand of the Luin area grating against his palms. He looked up at a very attractive sight of Anna with her arms crossed and her breasts peeking up from under the skimpiest two-piece suit he'd ever seen, which didn't make his business any easier. He hurriedly tore his eyes from the hypnotising scene and fixed his stare at face level.
He was sitting and she was not; it was a bad idea.
Kratos looked up again, his mouth somewhat – yes – dry. He now wished more than ever that they hadn't come to such an exposed place as a beach.
Anna, who he couldn't guess whether she had any idea what she was putting him through, smiled again.
"Suit or spill," she suggested.
"I get sunburns," he said in a stroke of sudden inspiration.
The young woman sent him a look that could only be called pitying. With a sigh, she sat next to him, at least making thinking marginally less problematic for him.
"If I knew how to give massages, now would be the perfect occasion to ask you if you wanted one, but I don't," she remarked. "So we'll have to do without."
She wrapped her arms around her knees and settled her chin on her arms, staring either at the glittering ocean either at the giggling toddler who was wiggling his feet whenever the dying waves flowed up to his sitting point.
A slight breeze blew, rippling the surface of the water and messing through Anna's locks; Kratos spotted the gooseflesh on her limbs.
Without a word, he gently put his arms around her, ignoring her sudden start, and letting his head fall on her shoulder, burying his face in the hollow of her neck. She was breathing as serenely as if she were asleep, immobile. He could feel the wind entwining their hair, longer strands slipping under his collar, tickling the sensitive skin.
He'd never get tired of this, not after an eternity. He fuzzily mused that maybe surrendering to Cruxis wouldn't be a bad thing, if it meant they'd get to go on like this forever. He'd only have to convince Yggdrasil to let Anna become an Angel, a Seraph. They'd like her.
"Why did you do it, yesterday?"
Unbidden, the words came out, slightly muffled.
"Do what?"
It was unclear from her tone whether her surprise was sincere or not.
Kratos tended to believe it was.
"Fight on," he growled. He forced his possessive grip to relax. "You were alone." I couldn't help you, he didn't say.
She let out a small laugh. "Don't you trust me? I could've taken thrice as much and still kept the two of you safe from any harm."
The confidence in her voice was inspiring. Of course he trusted her.
It made it even worse because it wasn't the point.
"You could've died." It sounded so simple. "And I wouldn't have been able to prevent it."
He felt her shift, until her head was tilted backwards, exposing her throat. Kratos had to quell the urge to kiss the trail down to the Crystal.
"I'm not going back to a Ranch," she said calmly. "I'm not having either of you taken from me. This-" here she gave a little jab with her chin that encompassed Kratos, Lloyd, Noïshe, the sky, the sea, and the wind she was breathing "-is my life. I'm not letting it go."
She shrugged.
"Either I surrendered. The End. Either I fought. In this case either one of us was killed, either it turned out all right. 'T'was a fair gamble."
As Kratos, stunned, was struggling for something to say to Anna's remarkably unfussy admission, a wicked grin appeared on her face.
"Live or die trying, you might say."
"Humpf," he could only reply.
She tilted her head again, and snuggled closer to him. Apparently he'd been more right than he'd thought when he'd argued that it was too cold.
"Your turn now," she ordered.
…Of course. He should've known she wouldn't drop it.
"You told me yours so I tell you mine." He nodded, half-hoping that she'd tell him to go on already, which would allow him to buy a few more minutes before he was up against the wall.
She didn't.
"…" he mumbled against her neck.
An expectant silence met the incoherency of his murmur.
"I can't swim," he repeated clearly – as clearly as he could while still hiding his face.
Anna's body was very still for a handful of seconds, then an indelicate snicker escaped from her lips, and soon she was rocked by silent laughter.
Kratos became sullen.
She was laughing so hard she was having trouble breathing.
He disengaged himself frostily and regarded her, in his most haughty manner, roll on the sand kicking her legs in the air.
It was an outrageous scene but as saying so would only have encouraged her, he refrained from commenting, and brooded. That, and the flimsy swimsuit revealed more than it covered as Anna's mirth grew.
"You – Kratos Aurion – one of the three Seraphs of Cruxis – son of sailors – cannot – swim." She seemed to find the thought hilarious. Kratos' expression grew sour. He should've kept his origins to himself.
"I never found the time to learn," his mouth justified.
It precipitated another round of breathless guffaws. "In four thousand years? You never found the time? Four thousand years!" she managed to croak.
Hysterical, he diagnosed. Wisely, he stayed silent.
"Are not as long as you seem to believe," he stiffly went on. "Additionally, sailors never know how to swim."
"I do," Anna reminded him swiftly.
Kratos glared.
"You didn't know you were the daughter of Luin pirates till two weeks ago," he pointed out. "You had been found as a baby near the Otherworldly Gate in Tethe'alla and an eccentric noblewoman decided to raise you up as her granddaughter."
"I know that."
"And," he mercilessly went on, "you were convinced you were the illegitimate offspring of the Chosen and an Exire half-elf, disregarding the sheer improbability of it."
"Well, it's bound to happen someday."
Kratos' snort said exactly what he thought of the likelihood of this configuration coming to light anytime soon.
"At least I know how to swim."
The end of the sentence was almost inaudible due to Anna's laughter. This time he grit his teeth and let it pass, wondering since when he allowed people to glance at his weaknesses and then to laugh at them. Or in this case, since when he helpfully pointed out where he should be kicked so that it would hurt. And since when he let anyone trample his ego and walk away with it.
Finally Anna regained control of herself, and rejoined her lover, slumping next to him with a smirk.
"I could teach you."
He scowled.
"Honestly, I'm not laughing at you. Well," she amended with another of those lopsided smiles that were the reason Kratos had deserted four thousand year olds friendships, "not entirely."
The Crystal caught the light as she threw her head back, trying to tempt him, and this time Kratos allowed himself to kiss it.
Anna must be right; life was too short.
Author:
runespoor7Rating: PG-13
Words: 2600
Summary: Anna and Kratos take a day off at the beach, Desians or not. Flangst. Anna/Kratos.
Sometimes it was nice pretending they weren't on the run, weren't being chased by endless enemies, weren't wildly grasping at whatever straws might happen to present themselves, weren't, in short, on a respite. In theory, today should have been such a day, spent having fun on the beach in the sun with their kid and their dog.
Well, except that Noïshe didn't look particularly like any sort of average dog, Anna's hair managed to clash with everything that surrounded it and wasn't of one-hundred-percent human heritage, and Kratos had belatedly decided he would rather keep the shelter of his usual clothes. Kratos privately thought that Cruxis might have had more luck in finding their precious Angelus Project back if they'd focused more on the physical description of the escapee and less on the Crystal that shone on the small of Anna's throat.
His eyes followed the Crystal's point down before he could stop them; a strangled gurgle left his lips. He quickly looked up, straight into Anna's smirking face.
The dark-haired woman put her hands on her – nodon'tlook – hips and tilted her head.
"Well, what're you waiting for? Get into your swimsuit!"
Kratos tried to form words. His mouth, he found, was too dry. He nervously licked his lips and mutely shook his head.
"Oh?" Anna didn't seem too concerned by her lover's refusal. She swung her hair behind her shoulder, bringing his attention once more on – right. For what seemed like the tenth time in two minutes, Kratos forced his stare away. Only to spot the knowing sparkle in Anna's eyes. He hoped he wasn't beginning to blush.
"You look hot in that outfit," Anna continued in a concerned tone. "I'm sure you'd be more at ease if you were wearing something a little less stuffy."
Somehow, the energy needed to draw himself to all his height and deadpan his outfit was not stuffy eluded him.
"Not that you wouldn't look hot too, of course."
For a fleeting second, Kratos wondered if he wouldn't have been better off staying under Mithos's loving control. There was a resolute hint to Anna's painstakingly off-hand manner that would have been enough to make anyone turn heels and run.
The last time he'd witnessed it had been merely the day before, when a "bunch of Desian upstarts", quoting Anna, had fallen on them and paralysed and blinded him, obviously working under the common misapprehension that there wasn't much a single human woman could do against half a dozen heavily armed half-elves, particularly if they held impressive weapons right under the neck of her lover and baby child, threatening to make good use of them if she wasn't a nice girl and didn't come quietly.
The idea, Kratos assumed, was that she'd rather drop the pair of daggers she'd readily drawn out than risk it. It would have worked, too, if he had been the one defending himself and she'd been taken hostage. As it was, he'd only been able to watch her dark eyes glint steel.
She'd thrown herself at the Desian who'd picked up Lloyd, and a dagger deep into the throat of the one who held Kratos as a human shield. The angel had felt, more than seen, the blade rushing next to his ear, plunging in the half-elf's neck, the sudden gasp and the blood spurting from the wound, drenching Kratos's face and clothes, blinding him. He had felt the coppery taste in his mouth, as, unable to move, he could only listen to the sounds of the fight enfolding him, heart beating loudly and head made dizzy with unused adrenalin.
The massacre had lasted only a few minutes.
After the sounds of blades cutting into flesh and tearing into cloth had stopped, when the last dying imprecation had echoed on the surrounding rocks and the last helmet had rolled on the floor with a ringing sound, when the path was full with only Anna's hissing breath, Kratos had felt something cold and glassy being pushed against his lips. He'd recognised the characteristic smell of panacea, and he'd swallowed best as he could between stone lips.
Anna had wiped the blood of his eyes as he was returned to his living self. Her guard had been splattered with reddish droplets, as if she'd stood and danced under a wine fountain, and she looked dishevelled – like she did in the morning before she'd had breakfast. Her cheeks had been flushed from the fight, forehead and dark locks damp with perspiration; she'd been glowing a faint aura of danger, a set smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
When they interrupted their kiss, Noishe had returned, holding Lloyd's bundle in his mouth as if it had handles. Kratos had taken the baby back and whispered reassuring nothings that came more easily every day while Anna wiped her daggers on the cloak of a fallen enemy, but he couldn't help observing the spectacle of half a dozen bodies strewn all over the place. One of them had had her head cut in one thrust. His foot collided with it as they made for leaving; it held an expression of sheer terror on its face, and Kratos had been abruptly reminded of all the fools who'd angered Mithos and who'd only realised it when he'd turned his magic against them.
In front of him, Anna was still waiting. He wondered if the smile she was now sporting had been developed as they were on the run, or if he'd merely never noticed when it was directed at others, and if it was the case, what had he done that deserved this sort of treatment?
"Shouldn’t we watch over Lloyd?" he said, stalling for time.
She half-shrugged. The strap of her swimsuit slipped right off her shoulder. A third of Kratos' braincells informed him they really couldn't be expected to function under those kind of conditions, and went on a strike without so much as a good-bye.
"Noishe already is." She made her trademark lopsided smile. "And you know you'd have to wear a swimsuit to actually watch over Lloyd when he's in the water, right?"
The swordsman decided a dignified silence was the best answer.
"Swimsuit now or I'm going to have to do something drastic," the young woman said sweetly.
That Kratos wouldn't like her definition of drastic was left unmentioned.
He cast around for an escape. This situation hadn't arisen in about four thousand years; Mithos' attention to others had depleted since his sister had died, and even before, Martel would have effortlessly rebuked him when he started to get on someone's nerves. Most likely Kratos would have, however reluctantly, come over to Mithos' side of the argument before his older sister had to intervene and would have granted him satisfaction.
The last time he'd worn a swimsuit, he remembered, had been on Mithos' insistence.
"Oh, come on. You don't want me to resolve to cajoling and coaxing, right?"
Anna cajoling and coaxing anyone into anything was a laughable thought, as she was possibly the person the less suited in the entire universe for emotional blackmail.
Kratos had watched her striving to make Noishe have a bath, and it had been the most ridiculous, desperately awkward scene he'd ever beheld. Including the time Mithos had believed the "M" in "M+Y" had stood for his name, a few weeks after Yuan had joined the original trio on their journey. Anna's attempt had failed, of course.
Then a metaphorical whip had cracked in the air. Noishe had cowered and whimpered upon glancing at Anna's fiery eyes, and, when Anna had purposefully called him a bad dog, the archis had miserably gone into the water. Kratos hadn't been sure whether the pitiful air had been because of the bath or because of Anna's irrevocable judgement.
However, he wasn't going to back down if he could avoid it.
Beside, he wasn't an archis.
"The water will be cold…"
The reasonable tone he'd been aiming for died as Anna raised both her eyebrows. The swordsman looked away and regretted not believing in any deities that he could have prayed to this exact moment, as Martel would refuse to get involved and Origin was wholly unsuited.
Two hands settled on his shoulders and firmly pulled him down. Kratos let himself be manhandled and compliantly sat, the rough sand of the Luin area grating against his palms. He looked up at a very attractive sight of Anna with her arms crossed and her breasts peeking up from under the skimpiest two-piece suit he'd ever seen, which didn't make his business any easier. He hurriedly tore his eyes from the hypnotising scene and fixed his stare at face level.
He was sitting and she was not; it was a bad idea.
Kratos looked up again, his mouth somewhat – yes – dry. He now wished more than ever that they hadn't come to such an exposed place as a beach.
Anna, who he couldn't guess whether she had any idea what she was putting him through, smiled again.
"Suit or spill," she suggested.
"I get sunburns," he said in a stroke of sudden inspiration.
The young woman sent him a look that could only be called pitying. With a sigh, she sat next to him, at least making thinking marginally less problematic for him.
"If I knew how to give massages, now would be the perfect occasion to ask you if you wanted one, but I don't," she remarked. "So we'll have to do without."
She wrapped her arms around her knees and settled her chin on her arms, staring either at the glittering ocean either at the giggling toddler who was wiggling his feet whenever the dying waves flowed up to his sitting point.
A slight breeze blew, rippling the surface of the water and messing through Anna's locks; Kratos spotted the gooseflesh on her limbs.
Without a word, he gently put his arms around her, ignoring her sudden start, and letting his head fall on her shoulder, burying his face in the hollow of her neck. She was breathing as serenely as if she were asleep, immobile. He could feel the wind entwining their hair, longer strands slipping under his collar, tickling the sensitive skin.
He'd never get tired of this, not after an eternity. He fuzzily mused that maybe surrendering to Cruxis wouldn't be a bad thing, if it meant they'd get to go on like this forever. He'd only have to convince Yggdrasil to let Anna become an Angel, a Seraph. They'd like her.
"Why did you do it, yesterday?"
Unbidden, the words came out, slightly muffled.
"Do what?"
It was unclear from her tone whether her surprise was sincere or not.
Kratos tended to believe it was.
"Fight on," he growled. He forced his possessive grip to relax. "You were alone." I couldn't help you, he didn't say.
She let out a small laugh. "Don't you trust me? I could've taken thrice as much and still kept the two of you safe from any harm."
The confidence in her voice was inspiring. Of course he trusted her.
It made it even worse because it wasn't the point.
"You could've died." It sounded so simple. "And I wouldn't have been able to prevent it."
He felt her shift, until her head was tilted backwards, exposing her throat. Kratos had to quell the urge to kiss the trail down to the Crystal.
"I'm not going back to a Ranch," she said calmly. "I'm not having either of you taken from me. This-" here she gave a little jab with her chin that encompassed Kratos, Lloyd, Noïshe, the sky, the sea, and the wind she was breathing "-is my life. I'm not letting it go."
She shrugged.
"Either I surrendered. The End. Either I fought. In this case either one of us was killed, either it turned out all right. 'T'was a fair gamble."
As Kratos, stunned, was struggling for something to say to Anna's remarkably unfussy admission, a wicked grin appeared on her face.
"Live or die trying, you might say."
"Humpf," he could only reply.
She tilted her head again, and snuggled closer to him. Apparently he'd been more right than he'd thought when he'd argued that it was too cold.
"Your turn now," she ordered.
…Of course. He should've known she wouldn't drop it.
"You told me yours so I tell you mine." He nodded, half-hoping that she'd tell him to go on already, which would allow him to buy a few more minutes before he was up against the wall.
She didn't.
"…" he mumbled against her neck.
An expectant silence met the incoherency of his murmur.
"I can't swim," he repeated clearly – as clearly as he could while still hiding his face.
Anna's body was very still for a handful of seconds, then an indelicate snicker escaped from her lips, and soon she was rocked by silent laughter.
Kratos became sullen.
She was laughing so hard she was having trouble breathing.
He disengaged himself frostily and regarded her, in his most haughty manner, roll on the sand kicking her legs in the air.
It was an outrageous scene but as saying so would only have encouraged her, he refrained from commenting, and brooded. That, and the flimsy swimsuit revealed more than it covered as Anna's mirth grew.
"You – Kratos Aurion – one of the three Seraphs of Cruxis – son of sailors – cannot – swim." She seemed to find the thought hilarious. Kratos' expression grew sour. He should've kept his origins to himself.
"I never found the time to learn," his mouth justified.
It precipitated another round of breathless guffaws. "In four thousand years? You never found the time? Four thousand years!" she managed to croak.
Hysterical, he diagnosed. Wisely, he stayed silent.
"Are not as long as you seem to believe," he stiffly went on. "Additionally, sailors never know how to swim."
"I do," Anna reminded him swiftly.
Kratos glared.
"You didn't know you were the daughter of Luin pirates till two weeks ago," he pointed out. "You had been found as a baby near the Otherworldly Gate in Tethe'alla and an eccentric noblewoman decided to raise you up as her granddaughter."
"I know that."
"And," he mercilessly went on, "you were convinced you were the illegitimate offspring of the Chosen and an Exire half-elf, disregarding the sheer improbability of it."
"Well, it's bound to happen someday."
Kratos' snort said exactly what he thought of the likelihood of this configuration coming to light anytime soon.
"At least I know how to swim."
The end of the sentence was almost inaudible due to Anna's laughter. This time he grit his teeth and let it pass, wondering since when he allowed people to glance at his weaknesses and then to laugh at them. Or in this case, since when he helpfully pointed out where he should be kicked so that it would hurt. And since when he let anyone trample his ego and walk away with it.
Finally Anna regained control of herself, and rejoined her lover, slumping next to him with a smirk.
"I could teach you."
He scowled.
"Honestly, I'm not laughing at you. Well," she amended with another of those lopsided smiles that were the reason Kratos had deserted four thousand year olds friendships, "not entirely."
The Crystal caught the light as she threw her head back, trying to tempt him, and this time Kratos allowed himself to kiss it.
Anna must be right; life was too short.
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no subject
Date: 2006-08-15 05:55 pm (UTC)I loved this part:
"She half-shrugged. The strap of her swimsuit slipped right off her shoulder. A third of Kratos' braincells informed him they really couldn't be expected to function under those kind of conditions, and went on a strike without so much as a good-bye."
Write more soon!
no subject
Date: 2006-08-15 07:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-18 02:30 pm (UTC)VeryVERY good story!