A threatening growl escaped from the middle of the body pile.
"Get. Off. Me."
It was Iris, squished into the cold stone floor, her jeweled hairpiece dangling crookedly by one ear.
Unfortunately for her, Ayame had landed directly on top, their chests colliding with a soft thump.
"Why is it always you?! Do you have a crush on me, or why can’t you ever leave me alone?! Also, why are you so heavy, you slit-eyed midget?!" Iris spat, wriggling beneath her. Her noble skirt slid halfway up her thigh from the crash and ensuing struggle.
Ayame pushed herself up just enough to glare down at her, which in turn made her silken black hair spill into Iris’s face, who then began sputtering, trying to get the filthy hair away from her lips.
"Heavy? Me? If anything’s crushing you right now, it’s those melons you insist on flaunting!" She gave an accusing jab at Iris’s chest with one finger, which only made their dresses press tighter together.
Iris was about to lose it. "Insist on flaunting?! The last thing I want to do is show my skin to others!"
She was not about to lose it. She lost it. Iris gave Ayame a left hook, hitting the girl straight in the jaw. "Now get off already!"
Ayame immediately froze, wide-eyed. Then one hand flew up to her jaw, massaging it. She blinked once. Twice.
"You..." Her voice trembled, but not with pain. It was pure disbelief. She couldn’t believe Iris would punch her like that. "You truly are a wild animal... Driven into a situation you’re unfortable with, you react with extreme measures."
Then, slowly, the shock melted into a sharp, cruel smile that showed just a hint of Ayame’s pristine teeth.
"Get off you?" she repeated softly, leaning closer so Iris could see the glint in her eyes. "And give up my advantageous position? I don’t think I will."
Her hands balled into fists. With a sudden thwack, she drove one into Iris’s shoulder, then another into her ribs. The blows were fast and snapping, the strikes of a trained fighter who didn’t need a weapon to be dangerous.
Iris hissed but didn’t cower. "Die!" She swung her arm in a wide arc, landing a punch square against Ayame’s side. Thanks to her superior Strength stat, it was heavier, deeper, and enough to make Ayame grunt with an extreme amount of pain. She didn’t doubt her body would bee purple.
But Ayame only grinned wider as she returned fire with a flurry of fists. She was faster, releasing lightning-quick jabs that rained down on the woman beneath her like machine gun fire.
The two became a writhing storm of silk, skin, and satin skirts flashing one juicy thigh after the other as they pummeled each other, snarling and hissing as the pair of wildcats they were, just dressed in lacey clothes that might’ve hid their true nature at first glance.
Meanwhile, just a few feet away, Quinlan had yet to move from his own "promising" position. He was still on top of the pile with Felicity directly beneath him. Her violet eyes sparkled with both mischief and delight.
Quinlan’s expression didn’t mirror hers.
Not at all.
Quinlan exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose before moving. He pushed himself off Felicity without another word, rolling smoothly to his feet.
He dusted himself off, and at the same time, the others began to gather their bearings. Dresses straightened, bruises ignored, pride patched together.
Blossom didn’t bother with any of that. She immediately darted toward the big tree in the courtyard, her face lighting up in a way Quinlan had rarely seen. She missed her daughter.
Rosie practically threw herself into her mother’s arms. Yoruha used this chance to quickly slip away before the green devil noticed her presence. Poppy came next, menting on Blossom’s disheveled state, while Natalie clasped her daughter’s free hand and spoke in hurried tones, worried. Their words spilled together, being too fast to catch.
Serika lingered only a moment before slipping away, her silhouette fading into mist as she entered Quinlan’s soul realm. Her sister rested there, and that was where she wanted to be right now. Ꞧâ₦ồ𝔟Ê𐌔
A tug on his hand pulled him back to the present. Jasmine. Her grip was small but tight, her eyes wide with worry.
"Quin..." she whispered with a trembling voice. "Thank you for saving my mother. But..." her lips wobbled. "We didn’t get her. She’s still somewhere in the palace... or out in the streets. We left her behind."
Quinlan gave her hand a firm squeeze.
"She’ll be released soon. The king didn’t seem to care about her; I doubt she’d be facing difficulties. The healers need to work on her injuries first, and after that, they’ll set her free. Blossom is already locked onto her scent; there’s no chance we’ll lose her. It’s going to be fine."
Jasmine still looked a bit doubtful, but some of the fear left her eyes. She managed a small smile, weak yet genuine, and nodded.
Not far from them, a shriek of fabric and a thud rang out. Ayame and Iris, both equally bruised from a myriad of punches and kicks, had kicked each other away, sending themselves sliding across the ground before scrambling to their feet. Without a single moment of stopping to think, they closed the gap again, fists and unladylike insults flying as their skirmish spread further into the courtyard.
Felicity, dusting off her elegant skirt, looked positively entranced at the sight of the two women going at each other. Her eyes sparkled like a child at a fireworks show, her lips curling into a delighted grin as she clapped softly, entirely absorbed by the spectacle.
But her fun ended with a sharp, deliberate clearing of the throat.
"Ahem."
The sound cut through the chaos created by Ayame and Iris.
Lucille stood near Felicity, looking down at the girl with squinted eyes.
"And just what," Lucille asked slowly, dangerously, "do you think you’re doing here?"
"Care to explain yourself?" Aurora echoed, crossing her arms.
"We were attacked by the queen, and instead of dying, came away with her daughter... Isn’t that the victory of the century?" Vex giggled, utterly amused. Unlike the other two, Vex was too far gone to be angry. She liked to just roll with whatever happened.
"Right?" Seraphiel mirrored her tone. "Now we can blackmail the king."
User Comments
0 comments from readers