Nike Crawford-Marine (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
nottheshoe) wrote2012-01-22 09:56 pm
nottheshoe) wrote2012-01-22 09:56 pm
WHOOPS THIS TURNED TO ANGST.
It had been a week since Nike had kissed him. He wasn't sure why she had done it, what had possessed her to do something so reckless and completely foolish. Had he given her some sort of false sign? Perhaps it had been a meaningless gesture on her part-- though he couldn't remember her ever treating Marc like that. Or even worse still, was this all some sort of game she was playing? Messing with his mind and emotions, to test him, to push him to his very limits... Though he didn't want to believe that answer, it was the only one his mind kept returning to. She still acted the same: cocky, worry free. She did her job the same, didn't jump whenever they accidentally touched.
No… Really he was the one acting like a school girl in love. He was very aware of her presence now, when she was in a room with him he automatically knew. He had to resist the urge to bolt away when she touched him or looked at him. Was he in love? He never let that thought cross his mind. Instead, he thought it had been a very, very long time since he had been with someone like that. He couldn't even remember the last time he had been on a proper date; Not since Yoshie had gotten into middle school and would be able to connect things like the scent of flowery perfume that definitely wasn't his own and late nights out.
He didn't mind the lack of companionship-- the lack of sex to put it bluntly. It was just another small part of his life that he had to sacrifice in order to raise his sister. One he didn’t especially mind giving up, because women were complicated. Relationships were complicated. He didn't want to juggle time between a girlfriend and his sister; his family had to remain the most important thing to him, after all.
"Take care of her, Shinji."
And he had done that. He had done what his family had asked and taken care of everything. Made sure Yoshie was the happiest she could possibly be.
So why was his self-control, his finely tuned will power, being crushed under the weight of this single woman? It had only been a simple kiss, he had been half asleep.
And yet the feel of it, the heat of their bodies ate at his brain. Like some sort of virus.
Taboo didn't even begin to describe these feelings. She was like a sister, a scruffy one who was maybe the black sheep of the family, but a sister nonetheless. And even if he could jump that hurdle, she was a queen. HIS queen. Someone he was hired to personally protect, give his life for. If this wasn't some sort of breach of contract, he didn't know what was.
But he wasn't going to quit, even if that would have been the honorable thing to do. No, he cared for her too much, and his own pride was at stake. Everything was a game of chicken to Nike, and he didn't want to flinch.
Except right now, she's sitting there on her bed, in hardly anything. A camisole and a pair of panties and the curve of her back looks strangely enticing to him. He wonders what it would feel like to just run his hand along her spine and in to her hair.
"What are you wearing?" is what he says instead.
She doesn't look surprised at his entrance--she never does--and hardly acknowledges him except for that tip of her head, barely looking over her shoulder.
"Bed clothes," she sounds far too amused for his liking. "Is there a problem?"
It's at this point he's sure everything is a game. She can't be ignorant of her effect on him. Perhaps this is all some sort of spell. Some sort of enchantment she's cast.
"You should have put up some sort of warning. Anyone could just walk in." is his nearly sputtered answer. He quietly closes the door behind him, on that thought, better to not let anyone else in.
"Most anyone else woulda knocked," she raises her eyebrows and turns away from him, returning to her previous activity. Tending to that mass of hair in this case. "Maybe you're the pervert here, Shinji."
His fingers twitch nervously; he's not sure where he should stand. Both physically and in this relationship. He wonders why he's let such a simple action change the relationship, it was just a kiss. Simple. Soft. It hadn't even had that much pressure. It was innocent but. But somehow it had just felt so intimate.
Maybe that's what scared him, made him feel so awkward. That all this meant more to him than it did to her. And now all he's left with is this bitter sweet feeling. Unanswered questions. A thousand scenarios. What would he do if it really was meaningless to her? How should he act if he saw her do the same thing with someone else? What should he tell Marc? Should he tell him?
His mind is going faster and faster and he's only broken out of the spiral by her voice.
"Don't just stand in the doorway, come on in." her voice had that usual casual drawl too it. As if she was too lazy to finish her words.
He presses his lips together, inching forward as if she was some sort of predator. And he was definitely her prey.
“Don’t you have any shame?” The quip slides off his tongue before he can think twice.
The way she flinches makes him regret it almost immediately, but it needed to be said. This was too much. Her casual attitude, her refusal to acknowledge what happened that night, the way she didn’t seem to care. This isn’t how a queen should be acting around men. If she did this with him, played this game with him, who knows what would happen to her down the line. And if he wasn’t there to stop her—
“What do you mean?” Her voice has a dangerous edge to it, one he isn’t affected by. But the casual drawl is gone, and she’s looking over her shoulder, right at him.
“I’m sure you have an idea,” He’s getting on his high horse and he knows it.
But he didn’t want to think of her like this, as if she’d just throw herself around like some cheap tramp. Nike, his Nike wasn’t like that. Yes, she was loud and brash, but she didn’t play with men’s heads.
His eyes track her as she slowly stands from where she sits and walks towards him. Her eyes remain connected with his and suddenly she’s right in front of him, unflinching.
Another game. Well, he wasn’t about to back down.
He can feel her fingers trace up his right arm, softly tracing the lines of his tattoo. He sucks in a breath, willing himself not to move.
“You could be more specific, y’know,” She’s smirking and he hates it. This is all some sort of convoluted game and he hates having to play it.
“I feel your actions speak for themselves.” He grabs her wandering fingers with his hand, digging in to her skin.
His eyes bore into hers, he can’t read her. He’s looking for motive, reason behind her actions. He wants to know what she’s thinking, because he can’t understand why she’s acting like this. Why she refuses to back down and just let him have this victory. He wants so many things for her, and this is the first time he’s beginning to understand it.
His chest heaves with a deep intake of breath as she brings his hand to her mouth and kisses the back of it softly. Her warm lips bring a stunning contrast to the cold air. And he can’t help but think what it would feel like for those lips to be against his again.
He, again, resists the urge to jerk away and closes his eyes,”You shouldn’t do that.”
“Why not?” He can tell she’s raising her eyebrows. He wonders if she feels as if she owns him.
“You don’t know what you’re doing.”
Suddenly he feels her teeth dragging slowly across his index finger and his eyes snap open, her lips grinning from around it.
“Have y’ever thought maybe I know exactly what I’m doin’?”
No, he couldn’t play this game any longer. His snatches his hand away, and jerks away from her entirely.
“Then I thought too highly of you.” It’s spat out harshly, he’s angry, he can feel it all boiling under his skin. He wants to yell and scream, but he keeps himself contained.
He turns away to make his way to the door, when he feels a hand grab the back of his shirt.
“Shinji—“ Nike’s voice has a strange edge to it.
“What?” He cuts her off intentionally. He didn’t want to hear another honey lined excuse.
“I—“ Her voice wavers. “—never mind.”
He lets out a short whiff of air and nods, facing away from her fully, leaving the room before she can say anything else.
No… Really he was the one acting like a school girl in love. He was very aware of her presence now, when she was in a room with him he automatically knew. He had to resist the urge to bolt away when she touched him or looked at him. Was he in love? He never let that thought cross his mind. Instead, he thought it had been a very, very long time since he had been with someone like that. He couldn't even remember the last time he had been on a proper date; Not since Yoshie had gotten into middle school and would be able to connect things like the scent of flowery perfume that definitely wasn't his own and late nights out.
He didn't mind the lack of companionship-- the lack of sex to put it bluntly. It was just another small part of his life that he had to sacrifice in order to raise his sister. One he didn’t especially mind giving up, because women were complicated. Relationships were complicated. He didn't want to juggle time between a girlfriend and his sister; his family had to remain the most important thing to him, after all.
"Take care of her, Shinji."
And he had done that. He had done what his family had asked and taken care of everything. Made sure Yoshie was the happiest she could possibly be.
So why was his self-control, his finely tuned will power, being crushed under the weight of this single woman? It had only been a simple kiss, he had been half asleep.
And yet the feel of it, the heat of their bodies ate at his brain. Like some sort of virus.
Taboo didn't even begin to describe these feelings. She was like a sister, a scruffy one who was maybe the black sheep of the family, but a sister nonetheless. And even if he could jump that hurdle, she was a queen. HIS queen. Someone he was hired to personally protect, give his life for. If this wasn't some sort of breach of contract, he didn't know what was.
But he wasn't going to quit, even if that would have been the honorable thing to do. No, he cared for her too much, and his own pride was at stake. Everything was a game of chicken to Nike, and he didn't want to flinch.
Except right now, she's sitting there on her bed, in hardly anything. A camisole and a pair of panties and the curve of her back looks strangely enticing to him. He wonders what it would feel like to just run his hand along her spine and in to her hair.
"What are you wearing?" is what he says instead.
She doesn't look surprised at his entrance--she never does--and hardly acknowledges him except for that tip of her head, barely looking over her shoulder.
"Bed clothes," she sounds far too amused for his liking. "Is there a problem?"
It's at this point he's sure everything is a game. She can't be ignorant of her effect on him. Perhaps this is all some sort of spell. Some sort of enchantment she's cast.
"You should have put up some sort of warning. Anyone could just walk in." is his nearly sputtered answer. He quietly closes the door behind him, on that thought, better to not let anyone else in.
"Most anyone else woulda knocked," she raises her eyebrows and turns away from him, returning to her previous activity. Tending to that mass of hair in this case. "Maybe you're the pervert here, Shinji."
His fingers twitch nervously; he's not sure where he should stand. Both physically and in this relationship. He wonders why he's let such a simple action change the relationship, it was just a kiss. Simple. Soft. It hadn't even had that much pressure. It was innocent but. But somehow it had just felt so intimate.
Maybe that's what scared him, made him feel so awkward. That all this meant more to him than it did to her. And now all he's left with is this bitter sweet feeling. Unanswered questions. A thousand scenarios. What would he do if it really was meaningless to her? How should he act if he saw her do the same thing with someone else? What should he tell Marc? Should he tell him?
His mind is going faster and faster and he's only broken out of the spiral by her voice.
"Don't just stand in the doorway, come on in." her voice had that usual casual drawl too it. As if she was too lazy to finish her words.
He presses his lips together, inching forward as if she was some sort of predator. And he was definitely her prey.
“Don’t you have any shame?” The quip slides off his tongue before he can think twice.
The way she flinches makes him regret it almost immediately, but it needed to be said. This was too much. Her casual attitude, her refusal to acknowledge what happened that night, the way she didn’t seem to care. This isn’t how a queen should be acting around men. If she did this with him, played this game with him, who knows what would happen to her down the line. And if he wasn’t there to stop her—
“What do you mean?” Her voice has a dangerous edge to it, one he isn’t affected by. But the casual drawl is gone, and she’s looking over her shoulder, right at him.
“I’m sure you have an idea,” He’s getting on his high horse and he knows it.
But he didn’t want to think of her like this, as if she’d just throw herself around like some cheap tramp. Nike, his Nike wasn’t like that. Yes, she was loud and brash, but she didn’t play with men’s heads.
His eyes track her as she slowly stands from where she sits and walks towards him. Her eyes remain connected with his and suddenly she’s right in front of him, unflinching.
Another game. Well, he wasn’t about to back down.
He can feel her fingers trace up his right arm, softly tracing the lines of his tattoo. He sucks in a breath, willing himself not to move.
“You could be more specific, y’know,” She’s smirking and he hates it. This is all some sort of convoluted game and he hates having to play it.
“I feel your actions speak for themselves.” He grabs her wandering fingers with his hand, digging in to her skin.
His eyes bore into hers, he can’t read her. He’s looking for motive, reason behind her actions. He wants to know what she’s thinking, because he can’t understand why she’s acting like this. Why she refuses to back down and just let him have this victory. He wants so many things for her, and this is the first time he’s beginning to understand it.
His chest heaves with a deep intake of breath as she brings his hand to her mouth and kisses the back of it softly. Her warm lips bring a stunning contrast to the cold air. And he can’t help but think what it would feel like for those lips to be against his again.
He, again, resists the urge to jerk away and closes his eyes,”You shouldn’t do that.”
“Why not?” He can tell she’s raising her eyebrows. He wonders if she feels as if she owns him.
“You don’t know what you’re doing.”
Suddenly he feels her teeth dragging slowly across his index finger and his eyes snap open, her lips grinning from around it.
“Have y’ever thought maybe I know exactly what I’m doin’?”
No, he couldn’t play this game any longer. His snatches his hand away, and jerks away from her entirely.
“Then I thought too highly of you.” It’s spat out harshly, he’s angry, he can feel it all boiling under his skin. He wants to yell and scream, but he keeps himself contained.
He turns away to make his way to the door, when he feels a hand grab the back of his shirt.
“Shinji—“ Nike’s voice has a strange edge to it.
“What?” He cuts her off intentionally. He didn’t want to hear another honey lined excuse.
“I—“ Her voice wavers. “—never mind.”
He lets out a short whiff of air and nods, facing away from her fully, leaving the room before she can say anything else.