mine. [n alves] (Patreon)

synopsis: sight (part four of the five senses series).

note: slightly spicy hehe. also, sorry for the delay! i meant to write this yesterday but i woke up feeling so shitty and only had time to get around to it tonight. hope that's okay!

N remembers the first time they laid their sights on you. Some might say it was love at first sight with how fascinated N became of you. Others might claim it to be a small fancy.

Maybe it was a little bit of both. But despite being a hopeless romantic, N has never believed in that kind of stuff. If you asked them, they'd say they were simply curious.

But it was close.

They’re the kind of person who finds personality more important than physical beauty, who finds laughter more important than materialistic goods. But there was something about the way you held yourself that night, the ease with which you glided through the crowd—if you were uncomfortable by the large number of people who'd shown up, it didn't show.

Of course, it goes without saying that they thought you were attractive. You always swat them playfully at this part of the story, but N makes sure its included for a reason. It didn't matter if you'd shown up in a suit or a dress, in sweatpants or a blouse—for a second, they could've sworn they felt something close to starstruck.

When the two of you started dating, the feeling continued. Over and over. They thought you were the prettiest person to ever walk the planet and wouldn't back down from telling you so. They showered you in compliments, hugged you from behind and whispered in your ear how gorgeous you looked, raked their eyes up and down you appreciatively when you came out of the shower in only a towel.

The last one is often more playful than anything, but sometimes, it leads somewhere. To makeouts and roaming hands and hot kisses on necks. To butterflies in N's stomach, to cuddles into the morning, to soft mumbles of "I love you."

Although every moment with you is precious, those are N's favourite.

Times like now, though, make them want to reconsider.

"So?" You turn around, catching other angles of yourself in the mirror. "What do you think?"

N arches an eyebrow. "You know what I'm going to say, right?"

They'd already told you a dozen times when you first walked out of the washroom.

Beautiful. Pretty. Otherworldly.

Mine.

N is not a possessive person by any means, but sometimes, it rolls off their tongue. They think of the few times they've blurted it out in bed, when they're kissing down your body and you're calling their name, and flush with heat. Not the time for those thoughts. Nope.

"Right, but I want your real opinion." You pause, then add, "Please."

"You do realize that is my real opinion."

You roll your eyes. "Fine. I need your critical opinion then. I need to fill out a form to give back to Sebastian. And so do you, by the way."

N gives you a sheepish smile. "I know."

The two of you, along with [A] and Blane, were given a preview of IAOS's newest hunting gear with the intention of giving them feedback. N found little problems with their set, but because you were given a different one, you recruited them in hopes of getting a second opinion.

They like to think they've been good, especially with how much restraint they've been showing—leather looks really good against your body, what can they say—but apparently, they've been getting more distracted than you'd like. They get up from the bed.

"The lack of zippers could be a problem. And the hook here seems unnecessary."

They tug at it for emphasis, getting closer to you in the process. They're only a step away from you now. They're close enough to smell your shampoo, yet still too far to kiss. They rein the thought in with a light scolding. They already told themself they'd keep their thoughts PG-13.

"Really? I kind of like it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. It's like those loops on carpenter pants you use to hang hammers. Also—" You smirk and take a step closer; N can feel your breath on their skin, "—it comes in handy when someone you're dating wants to pull you closer. Don't you think?"

N flushes. PG-13 out the window. The urge to push you onto the bed grows stronger. A four-letter word dances on their tongue. They're so lucky. Incredibly lucky. Still, they try to play it cool.

"Now who's getting distracted?" they ask.

You lean forward. Your lips ghost theirs and N sucks in a breath. "Does it really matter?"

When their mouth meets yours, they find that no, it really doesn’t.