“This means nothing.”
Alexas makes a humming noise low in his throat, keeps his eyes closed. The sweat is still cooling on his skin. A slow, smug smile is spreading across his face like he couldn’t care less.
“Did you hear me?” It leaves him agitated, for no earthly reason that he can name – he props himself up on his elbows, glares in Alexas’ prone direction like he can inflict a wound with his very eyes, “I said: this means nothing.”
“Mm,” Alexas deigns to offer this time, stretching lazy and slow. He looks so assured like this, so untouchable despite the fact that they were touching so intimately just a few moments ago. He- feels angry, at that look.
(He wants to do something at that look. Wants to reach out and touch and shake and break-)
“Alexas,” he uses his anger, encourages the flame until it’s burning just as intensely as it usually does – grits his teeth and edges closer, stops just before their skins brush and takes in a deeply wrathful breath, “are you even listening to me?”
“Mm,” Alexas only repeats, and seems disinclined to say anything more. His skin is so close, so close that he can feel the sticky heat vibrating from it. His eyes are still closed, his chest is still moving calmly, that smile is still plastered across his face in a way- that makes the rage grow, hotter and hotter.
(In a way that makes him want to move even closer, and smash and smash and smash.)
“Alexas,” he tries again, the rage gritting his teeth – making him shaky, making him dull in a way that’d kill him in any worthy battle, “Alexas, are you listening-?”
And he reaches out, to back up his words with a bruising grasp-
(And he wants-)
And Alexas moves. Snaps open his eyes, as fast as a whip, rolls under his arm and over him in a lunge so quick and smooth that he’s left breathless in the face of it – as dull as if he was a blade, slammed against a rock until it’d lost all its shine.
“This means nothing,” Alexas purrs lowly, and allows his smile to flicker cruelly into a smirk, “I’m so glad we agree.”