I wanna hold em' like they do in Texas Plays Fold em' let em' hit me raise it baby stay with me
After awhile, the sound of cards being shuffled sounds akin to nails on a chalkboard.
She’d been shuffling for five minutes now, and had yet to deal as if to bide her time. Thus the poor boy in front of her was forced to listen this constant movement of small plastic rectangular papers; continuously moving, slipping and falling through sleek digits.
The sound alone was enough to drive a man to drink.
He wrapped his fingers along the table to make a different, distinct noise, “Deal, Riley.”
The more he listened the more he could hear it, every slide of the cards, every flick of the hand, a change in pressure, a change in movement. At one moment together, one, solid; the next scattered and separate only to be jammed back together again with such force that it made the air vibrate.
She stopped for a moment only to continue not even looking at him, as she smirked hungrily, a lioness conquering the hunt. “If you say so cher…”
Did she always have to be such a fucking tease?
She started to deal slowly, drawing out the process, letting him take in her every move as she flicked the cards between the two of them.
He received each card individually but he couldn’t help but give her a sobering look, eyes shifting between cards and her sleek hands. Angular, linear and smooth, crisp and defined edges that were sharp and ready to attack, defend or manipulate however she saw fit.
She folded her hands down and then up in front of her face, delicately entwined in a weave of finger and hand and grace.
Yes, a horrible, wonderful fucking tease.
“So…? What’s your wager, cher?” mirrored by that manipulative smirk that reminded him of how she was an expert at twisting the situation and people including himself. A deadly expression of confidence and prowess that could only be described as carnal; dawned by poisonous, full lips; protecting that tongue that would dart out as if only picturing the taste of its prey.
“Or will ya fold, like always?”
The very lips that would poison his skin and soul, guarded now by hands that would both crucify and salvate his very being.
“Well?”
Death and Euphoria tumbled up into one infuriating voluptuous demon spawn.
“What if I don’t want to wager?”, he said with very audible tension in his voice, posing a question that had played his mind for weeks if not months. Pursue the snake and have his heart ripped out while he was still living, or continued his painful existence of never conceding to defeat.
The haunting angel spoke to him then with resounding clarity, unwavering.
“They just cards, Andrew.”
The perfect poker face.
The following events and actions can only be surmised as that of a bomb going off. There was the initial pound and thud, that was done with such force from the releasing of restraint that the entire pressure in air shifted and buzzed. The searing inferno ripping apart man and earth, leaving nothing but a devastated wasteland in its wake, sending all things existing into the air to only be blasted by the inferno. And as the smoke clears, ashes and remnants of sky and soldier fall onto the graveyard, a fall out of a battle that had been always fought but never ended.
When the cards would cease their descent, she would be pressed against the wall as his gloved hand entwined and pinned her wrist to the side. Their bodies heaving and pressed against each other, brief contact that was tingling and sizzling. But the remarkable part wasn't the elements of the game, but the players and their expressions and as they shaped and morphed in an attempt to gather what the other was thinking at that very moment.
This was so much more than a card game now.
The once defined expressions of players, manipulating and changing the game were now futile in this new arena. A perfect mask of victory was now with that of shock, hope, fear, and affection; a mask of impassivity painted over with one of anger, confusion, and longing.
The cards had been dealt, the bets placed, so now it was time to either raise the stakes, fold, or show your hand. The look on Riley shifted from one of awe to of challenge and apprehension. She was daring him but hoped that he was bluffing, she had nothing and she was leaving it up to him to put his chips in or not. No going back on this game, it was the last call and there was no turning back.
“Double or nothin’, sugar. What’s it gonna be?”
Pausing for a beat, he through all chips in and claimed her lips with searing, unrelenting abandon. She folded and pushed her hand forward in defeat, only to wrap them tantalizingly around his neck.
She was the one to pull away first as she smirked and sighed against his lips,
“We should play cards more often.”
As she kissed him again, it slowly dawned on Andrew that she had planned this all along.
It was never about the cards, but the game. And she always won. While he may have gotten a four of a kind, she’d gotten a royal flush.
Damn vixen.
I HOPE YOU LIKE IT BB, IT PROBABLY FAILS ORZ.
ALSO NEW FRINGE (PETER/OLIVIA) MOOD THEME. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH SO AWESOME. I'VE ALWAYS AN ANIMATED ONE WITH GIFS AND EVERYTHING ITS SO SHIIIINY MAAAAN.
eck gotta do laundry now too and work on this paper ECK SO MUCH TO DO TONIGHT, BUT THIS IS DONE FINALLy