Tanned fingers lingered on the toasty loaf, warmth tickling at his skin, cubes of crystalline white grating at the bed of his thumb and his lips slowly slipping into a smirk like a lion's grin at catching quick and perky prey. Shoving the last piece of his slice past his lips, leaving them a faintly dusty, sugary white which he licked off with deliberate slowness, Damien let his hand rest on her flat stomach and pressed the redhead down onto the soft, thick sheet spread beneath them, looming over her as widened warm brown eyes traced her figure against the colourful backdrop of the quilt.
He let his palm wander to caress her blushing cheeks, plucking the bread from her as easily as she had done for him, keeping her laying down with the silent threat of his body meeting hers if she moved to sit up. "Or have you? Seems I still have it." The blond loved messing with her, loved the little blush he could always elicit, even if she did a great job at hiding it usually, and he loved how cute she was when she stared up at him like that with doe eyes and—the silence of the chattering group around them weighed down on him heavily, and Damien looked up to meet the curious gazes of the friends gathered around them and flash a nervous grin in the general direction of one grey-haired elder with their eyes fixed hard on the two.
"Jeez, you guys are so disrespectful, watch the dance," he mumbled, and his friends laughed it off and thumped his shoulders in that ah-please-we-know-what-that-was
way that boys seemed to know since birth and carry until they were old and had little punch left in their trembling bodies. His eyes fell back on the sweaty Tavaedies and their amazing displays of showy strength and valiance, but his lips still bore evidence of the laugh he held back, even as the boy reached for yet another piece of juicy meat. It was hot, fresh from the kitchen, and he felt the red, warm juices spill down his hands and chin as he bit into it like a wolf, tearing off the skin and revealing its pink, well cooked insides that almost made him drool. It tasted a bit like lamb, but it was seasoned as one would traditionally do goat, not that it mattered with a heavenly taste like that. The blond licked the excess from his fingers and took to idly to chewing the bone for a few seconds, before letting that too rest back on a plate with many more gnawed leftovers.
Yeah, it'd been at least a minute, she'd still be seething, but he'd risk it. And with that thought, Damien let his gaze drift back to the petite redhead beside him and grinned. "So, Alex, I won't be so nice as to let you have the sugarloaf next time,"—he had indeed left it on her plate after everyone had gotten too curious for his likes—"so you'll have to learn how to be a good little girl lest I keep punishing
you." His hands ruffled her hair like one would do to a little child, and the height difference between them would make it seem as if the pair were indeed an adult and a kid nearing their teens, and the boy hardly passed up any opportunities to tease Alex on it. "You aren't angry, are you? You know I'm not really
flirting with a tomboy
like you, right? I don't think you're much interested in settling down in a nice little house with me, anyway, so fair trade. I'll find me a cute babe that won't burn my house down."
“Ｗｈｅｎ Ｉ ｗａｓ ｙｏｕｎｇｅｒ , ｔｈｅ ｓｋｙ
ｗａｓ ｃｌｏｓｅｒ. Ｓｏ ｍｕｃｈ ｃｌｏｓｅｒ.”