A Dangerous Game {Closed/Tag: Kiigan}

The day had been rough. Actually, rough was putting it mildly. Kiigan didn't know what turning into an Eldritch felt like, but at this moment, this is what he imagined it felt like.

The withdrawal from long-term flooming had been nasty when he swore off it before, but apparently, partaking in it after detoxing didn't account for crap. If anything, it was worse after this one time than it had been getting off of it before. And he'd gone to work like this.

Much of his day working with Wes and Emi had painted him in the most opposite of colors than at the party, for Emi anyway. Wes had caught a glimpse of his horrible mood initially, but this was even worse than that. He'd anticipated it, yet suffered still. The physical symptoms were annoying and presented as something of a cold. The way he squinted his eyes and shied away from bright light hinted at the migraine hammering in his skull, and occasionally he'd sniffled, coughed, and shivered. Emotionally, he was frigid and distracted. His silence was deeper, darker, sharper than his average loss for words, and when he did speak, it wasn't remotely pleasant. All of the anger and hurt had doubled, leaving the angel as hateful as a wounded Tigrear, no matter who it was interacting with him.

Slightly before the workday was done, Kiigan had reached his limit and snuck off to his room at the inn to suffer alone. When Emi snuck in, he'd been in the bathroom, just narrowly fighting off nausea. He'd just rinsed his flushed face a few times in cold water, staring into the mirror and having quite the silent deliberation. It was times like these that he was at his weakest. All it would take was one sniff and it'd all disappear again. He'd feel better. But he'd be stuck again. A valiant effort was being made to return to the present and feel the world for what it was instead of what he wished it was, but feeling like death and as if every shred of hope and happiness would never be something he could grasp was too much.

He gave in to his weakness. He always did, didn't he?

Kiigan emerged from the bathroom, face pale and dripping and hair hanging loose down his bare back. He started right for the spot he'd hidden it, under his bed. It was an old habit from back home when he kept it from his parents, and even though he had no reason to hide it now (or so he thought), he was still subconsciously ashamed of it. Yet, before he even got to his bed, he saw an intruder.

Emi.

"What're you--" he started, face scrunched up in displeasure and annoyance, but then he saw what she had. The floom. His brows drew down in confusion, quickly followed by anger. "Give that to me," his voice graveled, low and threatening. Kiigan had no patience for her invasion of his privacy or her games. Not today. Not now. Long steps brought him close and his hand hovered demandingly in the air between them.

"And then get out."

[wc: 527 || tota: 1117]

"It's none of your business," was the answer Kii had for her, a sneer in his voice but absent from his downturned mouth. He was in no mood for her presence, let alone her games. Her voice, the decibel of it, was like sandpaper to his brain, as was his own voice to be fair. The brightness of the evening sun through his dingy inn window was enough to feel like needles in his eyeballs, he didn't need loud sounds and her energy to make it worse. Everything about her pissed him off. It was such a bad idea for her to be here when he was like this, and the one thing he needed to have the ability to deal with it was being kept away from him in her thieving paw.

Closing one eye and somehow managing to look even more menacing than he already did, he made a quick but fruitless swipe at her downward hand, about to start the war over the small satchel when she said something that gave him pause. With a frustrated growl under his breath, he turned and resumed his course to his bed to check the hiding place beneath the mattress where the floom had been and found...

His face paled and he broke into a light sweat at the feel of cold, moist scales. Slimy. Perhaps his face even took on the smallest tinge of green as he pulled back a small fish staring into the void with lifeless eyes, and for a second he thought it'd be his second tour of the bathroom war.

The fish pranks were already a point of contention between the two, landing them in that middle ground of "i hate it and you're annoying" and seeing the vague humor in being light-heartedly tormented with something she'd singlehandedly ruined for him, but today... today was the worst day. There was no comedic flare-up and scolding. In the absence of-- or maybe amplification of, depending on perspective-- his usual qualities, Kiigan was left with only mindless rage. With what little restraint he had left, he kept from throwing the aquatic sacrifice directly at her by bouncing it off the ground nearby, where it landed elsewhere in the room to be dealt with later.

Then the angel whirled on her, looking more Eldritch than human or angel as he came up on her quickly. Initially his arm and fist raised as if to punch her, but he didn't. His quivering restraint that kept him from attacking her wasn't due to her gender, but rather their odd, unspoken friendship. It wouldn't last forever. "I'm not jokin', Emi!" he yelled at her, wincing as his head pulsed but remaining angry all the same. He lowered his arm. "You invade my privacy just to steal? It's just a stupid flower and worth nothin' to you!" Kiigan said in a quieted, tense tone, though that was not to be confused with calming. The battle within was merely working its way out. One last time, he outstretched his fist, glaring her down. "Give. It. Back," he growled through clenched teeth. "Then, get out or I'll make you wish you had."

This was her last warning. Kiigan was about to explode.

[wc: 538 || total: 1959]

Of course, she wouldn't give it back. The shrill end of the laugh felt so much like a lobotomy that he gasped. Somewhere deep inside he knew that the way he'd just dealt with her was a recipe for disaster, but he had little control over himself to be able to approach it differently. Kiigan was at the end of his rope today, a rope shortened down to nearly nothing by the withdrawal symptoms and side effects. Why didn't anyone listen to him?

The pulsing at the back of his brain screamed, amongst other things, for another hit of the drug to escape this feeling. His mind was so noisy, like a thousand voices crowding and bashing against his skull, adding to the chaos. And in contrast, though predictable, not another word would budge his clenched jaws.

Emi didn't care about him. No one did! Nothing mattered, no one mattered. The violence swallowed him, bathing his sight in red and taking command of his bones and muscles like a man possessed. When everything felt so achingly empty, so rejecting of the very idea of him, how could he possibly consider consequences? If he didn't get it back he'd never feel happiness again. Nothing but fear and rage and hate awaited him, his addiction told him in its slithering, deceitful tongue. He'd have nothing and feel nothing but this. Forever. Sacrificing these people he'd been fooling himself into thinking they cared would be a small price to pay to feel the sunshine on his face again, instead of eternal night.

While his mind slipped into the dark, his body did its best to track her through his inn room. These weren't the movements of normal Kiigan, the trained and accurate powerhouse. It was almost as if he was drunker than anyone had ever seen him. Sweaty and pale, his motions were slow and sloppy and clearly took so much effort. As her form blurred and doubled before his eyes, his attempts to catch her ended in failure and destruction. He kicked off the couch, his large frame and force buckling it in the middle. Like a bull in a china shop, he rammed forward to try to get to her before she put the Floom in her pocket dimension, but ended up crashing into the table when his balance failed him, splintering it just after she jumped off of it. Furious eyes followed her leap to the kitchen counter as he struggled back to his feet. And, of course, by the time he got near her again, she was already hanging on the ceiling! A fist bashed through the nearby counter of his kitchenette island and it exploded everywhere, shoving the contents of the cabinet beneath into the floor. His rage turned for a second to said cabinet door, which he roared at and kicked off the hinges and into the wall, where it wedged nice and deep.

Somewhere deep inside, he really didn't want to hurt her. His addiction did. His sickness, his hangover, his wounds did, but the Kiigan inside didn't. Yet as he eyed her hanging on the chandelier, he looked every bit like a creature on the hunt for blood. But for all the danger he emanated, it was also clear that all the physical activity was taking it out of him. Stamina was wavering on empty. There was a wobble in his step and hitches in his heavy breaths. Kiigan looked as if he was either going shred her to ribbons or pass out cold on the floor. Crimson eyes weren't so much narrowed up at her as they were squinted against the agony and malaise.

About the time he'd caught his breath enough to attempt to jump up and grab at her, the poor chandelier, caught in the middle of a bizarre domestic dispute against its will, gave up the ghost. The chain holding it up was as flimsy as everything else in the room. The weakest link opened, stretched, then snapped, sending its circus freak tumbling down onto the berserk angel, who promptly crumpled with a smack of flesh on dingy hardwood floors.

[wc: 689 || total: 3704]

Locked bedroom door or not, Kiigan didn't even check it. In his hazy, drug-withdrawn mind, he was more like a gun than a man. Aim and shoot. By the time he got to his feet and realized where she'd gone, there was a hand and a moist, very dead fish sticking from a black hole in his wall. That fish! As much as he turned a little green around the gills again, all he could see was red. Rage overrode the wave of nausea and he went mindlessly charging at the fish and the hole, his brutish intent no more complicated than grabbing her arm and either yanking her from it or barreling into it until he found her.

However, the hand, fish, and circle disappeared just about the time he got to it, but he made no adjustments. Like a bull, he busted through the thankfully thin wall, sending splinters and plaster everywhere and not even registering the twinge of pain. He whirled on her in an instant, trapping her against his locked door from the inside.

Finally, his hands landed on her and he gripped her collar into his fists, shoving her back into the door without a shred of gentleness. He then held her there, stepping close so his face loomed over hers, eye to eye, panting and glaring. Cheeks were flushed with exertion and fever as he seethed. "Give it back!" he roared at her, so angry but also... so desperate. So afraid. She had no choice now, he had her. What would he do with her? Would he coil his calloused fingers around her slender neck? Hopefully, she'd give in so he didn't find out.

Or perhaps it was he who would "give in", so to speak, much to his dismay. As soon as he finally had her, which was the purpose of that whole destructive chase, his flash of stamina was officially spent. At this range, she would clearly be able to see the energy leaving him and the abnormal, affected state he was in. Crimson hues were darkened, more like garnets than their usual luminous ruby, and they squinted in discomfort as the wave of dizziness very nearly knocked him off of his feet. His hands trembled at her collar, white-knuckled but weak and robbed of their threat. The sigh that escaped his lips was a truly miserable, almost whimpering sound as his body sagged and listed slightly to the right. With a quiet 'thunk' he leaned forward and placed his head against the door near hers. It was as much to ground him and help him from falling over as it was to feel the cool wood against his feverish forehead.

"It's just floom," he finally said in quiet defeat, giving her the answer she wanted. Kiigan wanted to keep up the illusion of threat, to hide this shameful sickness behind rage and violence, but it was gone. He was left a cold, empty, broken shell.

[wc: 494 || total: 4891]

To her question about floom being a drug, Kiigan paused for a moment before slowly grinding his forehead against the door in a nod. He didn't look at her now, choosing instead to close his eyes against the shame. Drug use wasn't particularly shameful from a Gaiyan's point of view. At least, not Gaiyan drugs. They were natural, after all. Everything that came from the ground was Fleuve'ir's blessing. But most Gaiyans didn't have the level of problem he had with the drug. They used it recreationally for fun, while he used it like a tourniquet. He wasn't proud of relying on it so heavily just to feel like he was surviving. He wasn't proud of what he did the first time he came down off of extensive use. He wasn't proud of himself right now.

Surprisingly, the greenette was touching him. It seemed oddly tender and he was undeserving of such tenderness. The coolness of her hands was nice, though. The one on his cheek especially, enough that he leaned into it without realizing it. Even if he was still angry with her for the invasion and theft and seeing him this way, anger took more energy than he had to give now. "Mmm...this is what it does to an idiot who abused it for too long a while back," he grumbled, though it was a quiet and resigned sound. Ever truthful and self-aware of his failings.

With that, his shaky hands released her collar. The tall angel, not looking very angelic right now (not that Emi had any clue that he wasn't human), put a little space between them. His weight remained on the wall, but he slowly rolled from his Emi-trapping position to having his back against the wall near the door. He was still right beside her essentially, but he was no longer blocking her and she could leave if she wanted. Kiigan expected her to. And when she did, he'd probably just slide to the floor and stay there until the withdrawal passed.

Opening his eyes again, he turned them and his head just enough to get a glance at her. "I'll be fine, Emi," he said, just in case she was worrying. He didn't know if she was since he'd just violently chased her all over his suite. She had every right to tell him to screw off, but Kii didn't want her to feel obligated to stay just because he looked and felt like Outer Realm dirt.

[wc: 414 || total: 6081]

Though the greenette said he wasn't an idiot and didn't do things without a good reason, he certainly felt like one. He didn't like showing weakness. Not to anyone. His frown deepened, but she was partially right. He had a reason. A few, really, but they all held one root. Kiigan wanted to forget and escape some circumstances in his life just as much as he'd wanted to escape his home. Happiness always seemed just out of his reach, but with a little help, he could feel it sometimes. This was just the price he paid for those stolen moments of joy that didn't belong to him. He was an idiot for thinking he could continue to steal a life that didn't belong to him, but yeah, he'd had his reasons.

Emi was right again, unfortunately, and he couldn't even get mad about it. Kiigan was not fine. After expending so much energy, what little he'd had left after getting through the workday while masking and constantly cooling his body temperature, he was literally on his last leg. As he leaned there against the wall, staring at the stubbornly planted girl he'd expected to promptly escape, he felt his legs starting to give out. Falling to the floor right before her eyes wasn't exactly going to give him any of his much craved but ultimately banished serotonin and dopamine back, now was it?

She said she was going to help. Kiigan's frown eased, if only just slightly. He was oddly touched by it, though a little confused.

Though Kiigan was stubborn as well, he set it aside for now. Carefully pushing away from the wall, he accepted her help and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. It was embarrassing to him how much he actually had to lean on her to make it the short distance to his bed, but the fatigue and dizziness were almost incapacitating. He had no choice but to lean on her, even attempting to try to ease off felt like fighting a tidal wave.

His little drug thief ultimately managed to get him to his bed, where he sat heavily on the edge and she joined him. Even in his condition, he could see the state of his bedroom. The makeshift door he'd blown in the wall had spread its newly freed bits all over the floor and his bed, making it a bit hazardous to lay on. Splinters and pieces of plaster coated the sheet covering his bed. Kii made a valiant effort to shove the sheet off so the clean fitted one beneath could be used, but after only a few weak shoves at the dirty sheet full of dead wall, he huffed a winded breath.

And that was it. He needed to lay down now. Kiigan, the tough guy that he was, could no longer stay upright. His body wobbled a little and then he fell over onto her lap, apparently more comfortable with her dust-free legs than the current state of his linens and pillows. Maybe he was just seeking comfort, a sentiment that he'd been deprived of most of his life. Maybe he was just touch starved. Either way, his feverish face peered up at her, noting the view was rather nice from this angle, but feeling too sick to really enjoy it. "What is it?" he panted quietly, wondering what it was she thought would help. "Assuming it isn't the floom... though that would make this better?"

Yes, he knew the floom caused this and that it would just put this condition off for another day when he stopped, but... well, he was an addict for a reason.

[wc: 689 || total: 3704]

For a second, the addict in him had hope. Seemingly entertaining the idea with a giggle, his hope did crash quickly as soon as her tone lowered. He was starting to learn that tone, and while it inexplicably turned him on in the most annoying but carnal way, it was almost always used for more devious purposes, be it seduction or rebellion. Just by the smirk alone he knew he wouldn't be getting his little satchel of happiness back, but he didn't let his temper flare. Mostly because he just didn't have the energy, but also because she was doing the one thing he really loved. Her fingers filtered softly through his hair, even though it was a bit sweaty, and though he still looked exceptionally miserable, there was a moment of peace so refreshing that he sighed.

Emi was lucky he was in this condition, though. Even feeling as sick as he did, he wasn't dead. She leaned forward, her words tickling his neck and jaw with chilled air against his flushed skin. A shiver shot down his spine, but all he did was lay there and look at her. Mostly unreadable, but generally appreciative, though growing a bit distant as his thoughts took their own imaginary path. Kiigan was never one to shy from eye contact, and she was pleasant to the eye, fueling whatever it was he was thinking about. The daydreaming became apparent soon enough, because the rag she wetted went unnoticed and when she smacked it onto his forehead, he flinched, caught completely off guard. The softness in his gaze sharpened in his startlement, bringing him back to the present.

The greenette teased him now, and though the words were simple enough, he huffed out a wry half-chuckle of his own. "If only it was that easy," he mumbled, finally closing his eyes and taking in the coolness of the fever compress. His temperature was higher than he thought. Try as he might, he couldn't bring it back down, or even use some other magic to cool himself. All the concentration trying to do so only succeeded in aggravating his headache.

And that brought his mind back around to the former question. What else could she possibly have that would fix this? He'd tried everything back when he'd first gotten clean off the stuff!

Well, almost everything, but he didn't know what was coming.

"Tea?" he asked, disbelief in his tone. Of course, he tried all kinds of teas. All sorts of remedies and other medicines, even other drugs when he was desperate. His hopes weren't high, but he'd humor her. She was trying, and even if it felt like the world only had darkness and disappointment for him, he could recognize her efforts and appreciate them. No matter how futile he assumed them to be.

She asked him to heat the cup, and though he was a bit suspicious of what she snuck in there since he hadn't seen her with a teabag or any other substance, he did so. Though only the smallest use of his considerable magic, it was clear the action was laborious. Brows furrowing with effort, his hand flared into a full fire out to the side before he even attempted to let it near her and the cup. His fire was alive and well, but it was obvious he had less control when suffering withdrawal. Concentration was hard to come by, so the flames wanted to rage like the chaotic inferno they were in nature. This rose the whole point that, if he'd really wanted to hurt her earlier as much as he seemed he had, he never once used his magic to do so, as if he didn't have to at his disposal, though he absolutely did. Whether that was a conscious or subconscious decision would remain a mystery.

Once he managed to pull back the fire into a simple glowing of his palm and fingers, he touched the cup and quickly heated the water. Once finished, he was left panting again and even more weak. In fact, so weak that she had to help him bring the cup to his lips and drink because his hands were shaking so much.

Kiigan chugged it down.

He paused.

His face turned red and a few veins popped out. He sputtered. He grimaced and turned distrusting, watering eyes on his supposed helper. The angel's pallor paled a shade or two, twinging on green as he just barely suppressed a full gag. Raising the back of his hand to cover his mouth, he did his best to not disgrace himself further by letting his upset stomach win. Any other time he'd have been angry, but now it was just a sweaty sulk.

"This tastes like dog hair," Kiigan managed to squawk in a low, half-strangled tone. "Emi, why...?"

If this was a joke, he wasn't sure he'd ever get over it.

[wc: 820 || total: 5547]

After a moment or two, though he winced at the initial volume of her voice, the nausea started to subside. Not just the nausea from drinking the musky-tasting liquid, but also the nausea he'd already been suffering from off and on all day.

Her following answers did nothing to quell his concern that it was dog hair he'd just drank half a cup of. Now Kiigan was sure of it. His head shook a little back and forth like a toddler refusing medicine, his lips clamped right. No more. It tasted nasty and though his stomach was strangely better, he didn't trust it not to make him barf. And yet... was it his imagination or was he feeling a little better than he had all day?

Kiigan's expression became more considering once she said she'd had some of it, and Emi spoke the truth. The woman had been super adorably drunk and should have had one heck of a hangover, yet she'd been fine as usual all day at work and even as he'd chased her all over his inn room. If whatever dog hair this was could cure the massive hangover a small human woman so fully deserved, maybe it'd work for him? Of all the remedies he'd tried, he knew none of them had been hair from any animal.

The angel only mildly resisted for a few more moments before he gave in. Giving his current carer something of a glance that said 'fine, I'll trust you just this once', his lips parted and he begrudgingly drank down the rest of the cup, once again grimacing after.

"You've never licked a dog?" Kii asked flatly, wholly unclear whether he was joking or not. If she'd known he was Gaiyan it probably would have given more credence to him actually licking a dog at some point, but as it stood, it was just another of his enigmatic comments. He felt like if she had, she would've understood that being able to recognize that particular odor and flavor would make it even harder to willingly consume. "Which dog was that from?" he asked next, barely suppressing another gag.

Gagging aside, it was clear that it had some sort of favorable effect. Some of the color not associated with the fever in his cheeks returned to his skin and his breathing seemed less labored. It was working on lowering his fever as he remained supine in her lap. Though he still didn't feel good, it was a huge improvement already. The light hangover compounding his withdrawal melted away, taking some of the drug-induced symptoms as well. Kiigan's emotions were still very dark and his body a little shaky, but the migraine was on its way to quieting to a dull roar and the dizziness became more tolerable by the minute. Perhaps with a little more rest, the tea could work its magic and produce a somewhat functional angel man.

So it wasn't a joke after all. He was grateful.

Though he didn't voice his direct thanks, he implied it by being perceptive. "Go ahead and ask," he said, his voice quiet but earnest. Kii could tell there was something on the greenette's mind, and though he could never claim to predict someone as unpredictable, it didn't suit her to hold back. Depending on what it was, perhaps he'd reward her by being a little more open than usual.

[wc: 567 || total: 6638]

A Sombra? Kii's eyes widened slightly, but he said nothing. He didn't mind the animals, he'd seen them hiding in the dark alleys of Engloria and Lyndon Port, but he'd never thought of drinking their hair for any reason. Thankfully he didn't equate them to their more eldritch-environment preferences, but it likely wouldn't have shadowed his judgment. Despite appearances, Kiigan was fond of most monsters and animals no matter where they made their homes. He didn't question where she'd come across the tuft she'd stored away.

Emi's next order of business was one that would have been catastrophic mere minutes ago, but was now a good point. He hadn't eaten all day due to feeling so gross. He'd completely disappeared at lunchtime to avoid the smells of everyone eating, preferring to sneak a nap in a closet instead. Being a pretty big guy, going so long without food wasn't helping him in the strength department. As she produced an apple with a bit of amusing flair, he gladly took it, though he didn't get a chance to eat it. Before he could sink his teeth into the sweet flesh, the emeraldette produced a more filling option. Normally Kiigan wasn't one for turf meat so the bacon would have put him off, but... in the absence of his primary source of protein, fish, he'd recently adapted. He watched intensely as she took a large bite of the sandwich and his stomach loudly rumbled in response. Would he have normally been exceptionally suspicious of her pulling it out of a pocket? Absolutely. But hunger was a funny beast, and in Kiigan's current condition, he forgot to care about her witchy tricks. She left it on his chest. It smelled delicious.

Before he grabbed for it, she took advantage of his offer after a brief period of uncertain deliberation and asked him the question he assumed she'd been holding back.
He was quiet for a long moment, his hands fidgeting with the apple he'd been holding. For the first time since he'd laid down, his eyes flickered away from her pretty face to somewhere else in the room, yet he pressed his cheek into her hand. A man of many frowns and scowls, while those usually hid many of his emotions, this one was clear. Pain. It hurt to think about, so much that he wanted to avoid it more than anything. But he was nothing if not honest if at all possible.

"Ran into my family at the festival," he gruffed, frown deepening. It was a long story to get the full effect, and he was a man of few words. "We... don't get on. It's complicated."

Kiigan almost left it there, but it didn't feel like it repaid her kindness. People delt in the trade of information and secrets even more than money sometimes, and since he had none of the latter, the former would have to do. "When we were kids my brother got lost and died." Kiigan paused as he tried to keep his voice even. Even to this day, speaking about Scott put a lump in his throat, at the very least. "The whole lot of 'em are exhaustin', but me an' my mom especially have never seen eye to eye. She doesn't agree with my choices, wants me to be somethin' I'm not, and... she wished me dead, too, rather than live in shame. I reckon she'd rather have just one good son and daughter," he explained in quiet bitterness. He glanced at her to gauge her reaction. Perhaps he was being too sensitive. Time and time again he'd tried to kill the part of him that felt the agony from failed family expectations, but it persisted so he resorted to covering it up. It all ran so much deeper than what little he explained, but hopefully that was enough perspective. "I might've run away, but it still... it..." The angel struggled with the words. "It hurt."

'It hurt' was putting it lightly given his decision to run from the feeling entirely for the following evening, but Kiigan wasn't great with words. It might sound simple, but it was anything but. And it wasn't something he was equipped to handle. Scott's death alone was a festering wound that had never healed, so wishing Scott's fate on him as if it was favorable was agonizing.

Apparently done answering her, Kii let the apple fall into the crease between their bodies and snatched up the sandwich, suddenly chomping down half as if it would cover up his discomfort. Food made for a nice distraction. Half was all he could really eat, though. Though delicious, it seemed he wasn't one hundred percent yet, nor did it do anything for how he was feeling. It felt okay to have something in his belly, but eating any more of it would be a bad idea given the warning twist in his gut. He left the rest for her to finish if she wanted, falling into a miserable silence as he fought back his emotions. In the wake of floom, it felt like it was going to strangle him to death and he almost wished it would.

[wc: 864 || total: 8327]

As per usual, Kiigan just listened but didn't comment, though he nodded thanks and understanding where it made sense. It was as if, at least for the moment, he'd used his allotment of words to reveal what he had to her, and now he had to wait for more to come available. However, even if his mouth remained pulled into its typical resting frown, his eyes quickly migrated back to hers and her face, observing her with unwavering interest. He didn't miss a single change in expression, no matter how small. And though she hadn't said much about herself, what she had said he'd gladly take. He felt he knew her a little better now. There felt like some common ground, both having siblings, both runaways, which was something rare for him to find in another person. Of course, he'd take that and hold to it tightly. It meant more to him than she'd ever know just to feel understood and empathized with instead of judged and scorned. It meant even more to him that she listened. He just wished it hadn't made her frown.

The angel also hoped she was right. Joining the mafia was more of an accident because he needed more money, but it was the first place he'd ever even started to feel he belonged aside from those brief beginnings with Zathius. Even if he didn't look it sometimes, he cared for Emi and Wes more than he should, beyond a normal working relationship. They were likely unaware of how soft he secretly was and how quickly he bonded with people who treated him well. He might not be happy yet, but he could see the potential. There were glimmers of hope, moments when he could feel his chest squeeze. Moments like these. Maybe it was really possible, that one day he'd be happy staying here and comfortable enough to just be himself and that be enough. And though it wasn't clear on his face, his heart felt a little bit lighter and more relaxed when her smile had returned. It felt lighter still, even if it was silly, that she said she liked him how he was. His eyes softened then, his cheeks gaining a little extra color. The man would have been flickering like a faulty lightbulb if he wasn't still recovering from withdrawal.

As she relieved him of the cold compress and the food, for a split second Kii thought she was preparing to leave after a job well done. No! He didn't want that. As much as he'd wanted her out of here earlier, now he felt pressed for more time. Maybe it was just that she was stirring up and providing some of the feel-good chemicals his brain was severely lacking, or maybe he just didn't want to be alone with his thoughts. Or maybe he just enjoyed Emi's company when she wasn't leading him on a chase or pulling salmons out of pockets. Either way, his brows creased in a very particularly stressed kind of way, which only increased when she asked for a promise. No floom. Go and talk to her when he felt like he needed it. He didn't know what would ultimately make him happy given his circumstances and floom had been his fall-back for quite a while. It was his only relief when it got truly bad. Giving it up permanently felt like sentencing himself to never having a moment free of the oppressive cloud of his circumstances for the rest of his life. Could he make this promise and keep it? He didn't like making promises he couldn't keep...

But then he suddenly realized... wait, this was going a different way. An unexpected but not unwelcome way.

His brows momentarily shot up in surprise as she made her proposition, surprised still that he considered it. He suppressed a shiver running through him as her fingers left his cheek and began drawing on his chest. Now, this... this might work. Other than yesterday's relapse, he'd more or less traded the blissful effects of floom for the lesser and messier distractions of binging on booze and sleeping around without any strings. It was a decent substitute. It was a type of comfort he wasn't unfamiliar with, though this felt... better. With more trust and familiarity came warmth and security. He needed a little of that right now.

Whether she remembered it or not, this was not the first time that Kiigan had kissed Emi. Her lips lowered unimpeded to his own and he angled his face up to meet them. The angel was hesitant initially, his returning kiss questioning, but then his hand rose to cup the back of her head and he applied some pressure. Their lips locked firmly, lingeringly for a moment or two before he pulled away and released her. Kii was brash and reckless in a lot of ways, but he really wanted to make sure, if only because he liked her, witch or no. He needed to be sure she knew what she was signing up for.

"Are you sure?" he asked in a quiet but husky voice, his entire countenance transformed from morose and ill to one of barely restrained craving. Just from the one taste, his body seized the opportunity for the happy chemicals, for the comfort she was offering even if it bordered on her being used. Kiigan would have no problem taking advantage, though he might not be at the top of his game. Time and time again he'd proven he was physically attracted to her, and by now they did have a semi-stable friendship. They'd likely not discuss it, but while these encounters-- the kisses before and whatever followed this moment-- meant nothing deeper to the grenette, but they were starting to mean something to him. He wouldn't admit it to himself, but this was a dangerous road for him to walk right now, especially after he'd just had such emotionally vulnerable moments with her and felt the sparks of a deeper connection.

Kiigan was setting himself up to get hurt, but, as usual, he didn't think about it now. He'd think about it later.

Waiting for her answer, he slowly sat up, sitting beside her on his bed and angling his body toward her, leaning in as if ready to pounce at any moment.

[wc: 1058 || total: 10793]

Friends. For whatever reason, that extra little tidbit gave him pause as the meaning hit home. This again. Always this. Was that disappointment he felt? His eyes tightened just a little and he considered letting it go right here, but... it seemed Emi had other plans. Just as he was working through that the right thing to really do was, she blew every thought he had right out of his head.

This was better than nothing.

The way she kissed both of his lips and nibbled his bottom one ignited his eyes as if they were embers stoked by the wind. He loved that kind of thing. Kiigan slowly exhaled as she pulled back. More than ever he looked like he was about to pounce, but there would be no more asking. It was as if he could eat her up on the spot and had about as secure of a hold on his restraint as his hands were steady. Spoiler, his hands were still shaking, but they were more than capable of being used. One reached out to trail the indentions from the binding on her torso, then lifted to meet his gaze on the ill-fitting garment. He was tracing the lace appreciatively when she denied him the glimpse of his favorite feature and leaned in close.

Reaching his hand out to the side, he used a gust of wind to rid his bed of the splinters, sheetrock crumbles, and the sheet it all soiled. Perhaps it was a little too powerful, but the suite really couldn't get much more damaged. What were a few more pieces of debris embedding in the plaster and a side table crashing onto its side? Even with the noise, he could still hear her giggle and whisper.

Oh, right. That. "I promise," he said when she prompted him, voice barely more than a whisper. "Promise you'll be there." He didn't wait for her to answer.

"C'mere," he nearly growled right after, reaching forward and getting an excellent grip on her thighs. As he got to his knees toward the middle of the mattress, he dragged her hips toward him in one fluid movement, while also using his hold as leverage to lean over her. He could continue unwrapping his gift while he occupied himself by kissing and test-biting her neck as he sucked on the tender flesh. Could she take his biting habit? What kind of noise would she make? Freeing one hand, he slipped it around her back and with little more than a flick of his fingers, it snapped free.

[wc: 429 || total: 11838]

Pleased that his biting seemed well received, he'd returned to her lips for long, deep kisses while his hands took advantage of the newly freed part of her that he'd had his eye and imagination on since they'd met. Soft. He kinda wanted to do what he had at the Moondance, but just about the time he pulled away from her lips with the intention to move down, she cooed a request for the opposite. The earlobe bite sent a shiver down his spine while he took a moment to process her request. Hovering above her, his brow quirked questioningly, but she quickly revealed why and he huffed a breath out of his nose with a small smirk.

"Really?" he asked flatly, though it was clear enough that he was amused, maybe even a little flattered. Emi always kept him on his toes. Or, in this case, on his knees.

Perhaps he'd misunderstood, but Kiigan leaned up and sat back to undo his belt buckle and slide his pants and underwear down in a way that teased the front but revealed his whole glorious cheeks. Leaning back down, he shifted around and placed his hands onto the mattress by her shoulders while slithering his hips from between her legs to more around her mid-section. He did so carefully so not to squish her or anything. Briefly, he wondered why he was taking the time to humor such a silly thing while in the heat of a whole moment, but that's just what he did with her sometimes, wasn't it? He humored her antics.

"Alright. Go for it."