Lion Head Mesa 発火 akejosei (m)

he chased after her like a cat seeks a mouse, hoping to corner her. those words, his claws.

satsu hated that he so readily made threats. she hated most of all, that she had agreed to this charade to begin with; she felt cheated, having found herself livid with anger over the thought of another in his bed.

when had that happened? she had gone from willing accomplice with a contract, to a kept woman. this was not business, this was — she did not have a word in the common language, or in her father's, for what this was.

and why not? she cooly answered, unable to look at him.
feeling his presence was almost too much. she could not outrun him.
you made me queen to give me control of myself,
to keep me protected. that was our arrangement!

glaring now at him, but there wasn't anything malicious in her gaze. fire, yes, but desire by another name, and she hated that she could not hide it. don't talk to me of fate, you arranged all of this. you - you knew, you waited — satsu was out of breath, overwhelmed.

the look of him filled her vision and she was trapped, somehow.