.,;:'Sorrow's Seething Solitude':;,.

[Lieutenant Ducky]

Though she was naught much more than a tiny slip of a girl, Meth had him pinned to the wall of the cottage, the length of her body stretched against the unyielding hardness that composed Kyro. With her arms wrapped around the back of his neck, she was so entangled in the kiss that the smile couldn't have possibly been missed. She was bombarded with emotions that reflected her own, confusion, lust, happiness, desire, and a tint of fear throughout it all, and she was quite tempted to break the embrace if for no other reason then to say, "I told you so." It's that combination of feelings that birthed the sentiment of love, that nurtured it into a state of being. Her body reacts to the situtation, the proximity of the man so near and dear to her heart, the passion of their kiss that the normally hot temperature she kept spikes, as if feverish and faintly she wondered if she felt like fire to the man practically made of winter.

 

[Private Puppy]

Even when she became so warm, his body would seem to match it in cold. Some kind of physiological contest? Perhaps, though a purely innocent one. Mental images of what might happen when a finely cut ice sculpture meets a fire formed in his mind, and the painting of thought was nearly as beautiful as it felt. Having her so hung around his neck, the pretty little Meth, his favorite person, his only friend. Their bodies like pieces to a puzzle as they practically melted into one another. If she would have told him 'I told you so' he might have been oh so content to believe her right back. Though within his own mind, a fear tainted his otherwise pure intentions, the thought of having her leave, having her stripped away from him was wretched. A thing he would no doubt have to face, if she was mortal, and perhaps face even if she was not.

 

[Lieutenant Ducky]

Breaking the kiss, she smiles shyly at him, an odd contrast to her bold hair and body modifications. She pulls away as far as his hold will allow her, her stormy eyes mirroring his own. "I don't know the future, but it's nothing to be feared, you know. It's simply a part of life, neither sad nor happy, just fact to be written," she murmurs, unsure how reassuring that may be. After all, a creature made from death really shouldn't fear that inevitability, right? She didn't, and it would be her life that would come to an end of the two. She looked forward to it in a patient sort of way, curiosity as to what change would lie within.

 

[Private Puppy]

Quirking his brow in that familiar minuscule manner, he'd simply watch her. The curiosity was most intriguing, how she could look death in the eyes and smile to it, happy with what had happened. "Mayhaps not fear, is what strikes me." Whispered the man, his voice a cool breeze upon the ear, as was quite usual. "It may be a simple sorrow, for what will forever be inevitable." Turning his icy gaze unto the floor, he'd let close his eyes. Loosening his grip upon the beauty in a slow but certain manner, eventually relinquishing it entirely if she so chose. It almost felt greedy, he realized, to want her for himself. Instantly he'd wash the feeling away, who was he to ignore the pleasure that came with her presence? "My apologies, Sweet Meth..." Came a nearly silent quartet, in a voice she may have yet to of met. Something in it was tainted by more than just the usual cold, nothing warm mind you for such a thing would mean only death of the spectre.

 

[Lieutenant Ducky]

She laughs at his words and more so at his apology, it was so very Kyro. Despite the fact that he had released her, she stays close, nuzzling her cheek against his shoulder. "I'm not a very sad person, so I guess I just can't understand. It's not in my nature," she replies, a smile still on her lips. Meth chews slightly on her lower lip, tugging on her lip piercing, as she mills over her words. "So, I'm an impulsive person. Are you?" she finally asks, pondering what this situation really means.

 

[Private Puppy]

Resting backwards upon the wall, he would peer at her through closed eyes. Even with them veiled, they seemed to watch her through some other means, the truth of which was a certain undead trait. The ability to see the living. A common thing often noted in zombies and other carrion loving fiends, however it was not exclusive to them. Vampires sometimes were known to bear such a gift, as well as liches, so perhaps it wouldn't come as a surprise to see that a ghost such as Kyro would have it as well. "Not particularly, however I am easily moved." Peering through his eyes as they moved to open again, ever so slowly, he'd observe her actions carefully. "Even the gentlest of breezes can carry me, if they travel in the right direction."

 

[Lieutenant Ducky]

She smiles, nodding her head slightly, which only serves to nuzzle his shoulder a little more. "So basically, you do what you want," she teases, drawing back to glance once more at the dreary little home, run down and weather worn. It was hardly the setting she'd imagined in her girly day dreams, but then, it suited Kyro so much more here. His resting place, a safe haven he trusted her to find. It was cozy in a distant sort of way, though could certainly be in better shape. "So what do you want to do now?" she inquires, returning her attention to him once more.