[wonton]
by trixie_chick
Exacerbate
He inhaled deeply, until he almost felt like he was going to choke from it, and let the hard burn from the tobacco clear his senses. Clearing himself out by getting filthy. That almost seemed funny. He exhaled, a plume of thin, dirty air curling and wafting above him, before it dissipated, became nothing.
He would never become nothing.
"You're not usually so pensive," she remarked, her bright red lips smirking at him. She was putting her bra back on, a curiously sexy act given the circumstances. "You're not usually so gentle, either."
He gave that a moment's thought, and then he put he glasses back on. He didn't really like this much conversation afterward. "I manhandled a child today."
"Oh? Was that fun?" She was laughing. Not out loud, not visibly, or audibly, but it was in her tone, her smile, the way her bony shoulders shook a bit.
She probably misunderstood him. "Not so much. I didn't get what I want."
"I guess that's why I got what I wanted," she laughed outright this time.
He sneered, and brushed his hair back. "Not yet, you haven't," and then he pointedly looked at his wallet. Far away on the chair with his pants.
She was still snickering, then. "What did you want, then? I don't really think you're that sort of man." She stood up and started to button up her dress. It was short, tight, and shiny. And he hadn't realized before how cheap and trashy it was.
He turned to lean back against the headboard, and closed his eyes as he exhaled again. "Oh... I wanted perfection." Sai. The name was as bitter in his mind as ash on his tongue. That name could mean... the unattainable. The unreachable.
That name could be tattooed across his neck, and it might mean that this life wasn't really for him. No matter how good he was, he wasn't part of the in generation. Too young to be Touya-sensei's rival, too old to be Akira's, so he didn't get the chance to have a life-altering encounter with Sai.
Bitter.
"Well," she said, and she was saying it to get his attention, so he turned to look at her. In this light, she looked wiry and battered, cheaply adorned and badly cared for, but her fists were at her skewed hips, elbows akimbo, legs shoulder-width apart. Somewhere under all that cheap plaster, there was some kind of strength. "You're smart enough to settle for less."
He grunted, showing some kind of appreciation, and got up to get his wallet. He tossed her a wad of cash, enough to keep her mouth shut before she offered him any more advice. She wisely went off ahead of him.
He hated love hotels, but he would smoke another cigarette before taking a shower. He was annoyed, and he hated the feeling.
He had to get his chance.
Exacerbate
He inhaled deeply, until he almost felt like he was going to choke from it, and let the hard burn from the tobacco clear his senses. Clearing himself out by getting filthy. That almost seemed funny. He exhaled, a plume of thin, dirty air curling and wafting above him, before it dissipated, became nothing.
He would never become nothing.
"You're not usually so pensive," she remarked, her bright red lips smirking at him. She was putting her bra back on, a curiously sexy act given the circumstances. "You're not usually so gentle, either."
He gave that a moment's thought, and then he put he glasses back on. He didn't really like this much conversation afterward. "I manhandled a child today."
"Oh? Was that fun?" She was laughing. Not out loud, not visibly, or audibly, but it was in her tone, her smile, the way her bony shoulders shook a bit.
She probably misunderstood him. "Not so much. I didn't get what I want."
"I guess that's why I got what I wanted," she laughed outright this time.
He sneered, and brushed his hair back. "Not yet, you haven't," and then he pointedly looked at his wallet. Far away on the chair with his pants.
She was still snickering, then. "What did you want, then? I don't really think you're that sort of man." She stood up and started to button up her dress. It was short, tight, and shiny. And he hadn't realized before how cheap and trashy it was.
He turned to lean back against the headboard, and closed his eyes as he exhaled again. "Oh... I wanted perfection." Sai. The name was as bitter in his mind as ash on his tongue. That name could mean... the unattainable. The unreachable.
That name could be tattooed across his neck, and it might mean that this life wasn't really for him. No matter how good he was, he wasn't part of the in generation. Too young to be Touya-sensei's rival, too old to be Akira's, so he didn't get the chance to have a life-altering encounter with Sai.
Bitter.
"Well," she said, and she was saying it to get his attention, so he turned to look at her. In this light, she looked wiry and battered, cheaply adorned and badly cared for, but her fists were at her skewed hips, elbows akimbo, legs shoulder-width apart. Somewhere under all that cheap plaster, there was some kind of strength. "You're smart enough to settle for less."
He grunted, showing some kind of appreciation, and got up to get his wallet. He tossed her a wad of cash, enough to keep her mouth shut before she offered him any more advice. She wisely went off ahead of him.
He hated love hotels, but he would smoke another cigarette before taking a shower. He was annoyed, and he hated the feeling.
He had to get his chance.