[ true enough, he must relent with an acquiescing nod of his head. to think the moment had almost passed, that opportunity had walked out the door only to return for something forgotten, and Getou's streak of bad luck goes unbroken. maybe the House is just the concept of karma, nigh instantaneous. ]
[ there's no protracted, dawning horror — rather, his mouth closes with a tensing jaw, a click of his teeth announcing open eyes, pitted and small and serious. it's one thing to lose fair and square — it's another for the fates to convene against him to punish with the embarrassment of a plot failed, and in the time it takes the table to settle back down after such a revolutionary roll, he's had time to digest it properly... ]
[ as he does everything, eventually. ]
I'm not sure this is what they meant by 'turn the other cheek'... [ as if that applies here?! there's the put-upon, wearied sigh as he stands, one knee bent to his side on the cushion of the couch they're both sharing. no flamboyant flourish as there had been with the first; now, he only undoes his belt, fingers gripping white to untuck his dress shirt — ]
[ and from between the tail of it and the waist of his lowered slacks, one succulent curve of buttcheek protrudes out of fabric, tan-skinned and thick with muscle. he's been losing weight lately, but you wouldn't know it from the quarter that would bounce off this gluteus maximus. ]
no subject
[ there's no protracted, dawning horror — rather, his mouth closes with a tensing jaw, a click of his teeth announcing open eyes, pitted and small and serious. it's one thing to lose fair and square — it's another for the fates to convene against him to punish with the embarrassment of a plot failed, and in the time it takes the table to settle back down after such a revolutionary roll, he's had time to digest it properly... ]
[ as he does everything, eventually. ]
I'm not sure this is what they meant by 'turn the other cheek'... [ as if that applies here?! there's the put-upon, wearied sigh as he stands, one knee bent to his side on the cushion of the couch they're both sharing. no flamboyant flourish as there had been with the first; now, he only undoes his belt, fingers gripping white to untuck his dress shirt — ]
[ and from between the tail of it and the waist of his lowered slacks, one succulent curve of buttcheek protrudes out of fabric, tan-skinned and thick with muscle. he's been losing weight lately, but you wouldn't know it from the quarter that would bounce off this gluteus maximus. ]