Dance Me... [ME11]

[Zanebry Varliss]

"And it's not a decision I can make for you." Zane whispered in return as they swayed, one hand still on her rear, the other lightly touching her side. He shifted slightly to better catch her eyes, his lips tantalizingly close to hers. "That's a fine hope, and if you choose to believe in it I'll join you. Though as you said it might be a long and circuitous route, and we'll both likely be hurt a lot more along the way."

[Moyr Ahaya]

Her golden gaze plunged into the gris of his like a sun would into the oceanic horizon. It was inquisitive, careful but intensive look, trying to get past the masks. The rim of her nasal bridge gently rubbed where his was and while she pressed her lips together to bring slivers of moisture to them as they had dried because of her heating up they were not crossing the divide yet. "I prefer a long, ever shifting path that will burn my skin and draw blood from my feet than a quick flight straight to the bottom of a ravine." Her hot breath caressed his cheek. "Few things worth anything are easy."

[Zanebry Varliss]

Masks were something both of them wore, and as she tried to peel away his, he attempted to peel away hers. His mask was perhaps a odd one, because the mask as it were was part of him. The music, the dancing, were all things he truly enjoyed. Under it all though, past the layers of compassion and sadness there lay a icy core. It was cruelty, or anger, merely a lack of all those things. The ability to divest himself of all emotion and make the hard choices. Even if he may regret them later. Though it seemed like an ability he no longer desired to have.

His tonque darted across his lips, their closeness and the heat of the dance floor having dried them. "I've walked a path of fire and brimstone before. I'll walk one again." Though if such a path would result in them by each other's sides was far from certain. "There are no other paths open to some of us after all."

[Moyr Ahaya]

Underneath hers, there was a maelstrom of everything. Anger, fear, passion, regret, hurt, apprehension, amusement, anxiety, cold determination and gentle hope. In the melting pot of her emotions there was a non-negligible probability of any outcome. It was chaotic, indeterminate, unbound by the dictates of fate. Her stories of an ever-shifting path were not just figurative. She was equipped to let any emotion propel her, and probably capable of riding on many if not all of them. She didn't seem lost for she defied that which constituted what were the right and the wrong places to be.

"All paths are there, Zane. All of them. Even the hard ones." She quietly averred in line with who she truly was and what she believed in, then pressed her hot crimson lips against his while gripping him tight with both arms and lekku.

[Zanebry Varliss]

They were opposites, a fiery maelstrom against a icy stillness, perhaps two bound to do nothing but tend away at each other. Though one could never quite tell what the future might hold.

Any answer of Zane's was stopped when her lips met his, the taller man pulling her aganist him, as he devoured every ounce of passion he was given, and returned it with his own. The cage holding zane's hunger in check was rattled, as his hand slid up her bare back, his mouth opening slightly as he tired to take the kiss deeper.

[Moyr Ahaya]

She shivered under his touch and counter-pursued an even deeper kiss, never being a passive one. She did not attempt to compromise the moment with verbal articulation but let her heated tongue speak about her passion in a vernacular of motion.

[Zanebry Varliss]

The kiss, a passionate pairing of lips had to part eventually. to take stock of each other, their passions, and the nights future if nothing else. Zane's hand had wandered during the kiss, across ass, side, breast and thigh, a light whisper of a touch.

as their lips parted, he looked down at his partner, a silent question in his eyes, as his fingers drifted across her skin. To stop here, to go further? The choice was in her hands, whatever she might desire.