#ALSO ONCE AGAIN PRAYING WANG YI ISN'T OOC. ESP BECAUSE IT'S SOFT

[nicawlette]

SPOTS TO KISS.

@nobully asked: spots to kiss + *insert number here LOL*

7. a kiss on the eyelid or the undereye. 35. a kiss on the space between shoulder blades. oh i inserted some numbers alright. my city now, bitch

The call of the waking world reaches Nicolette much slower than it usually did, especially in more recent times. As of late, it's been a miracle to fall asleep at all— when she does, it's no more than a few hours of fitful tossing and nightmares. Her body aches and her mind is plagued by too much stress to turn off. When she wakes, it's with a start, the tail end of a scream or cry for help on the tip of her tongue that comes out as broken wheezes.

Somehow, it has left her feeling more exhausted than if she'd simply skipped it altogether.

That morning, however, Nicolette stirs in steady increments. Her body begins to rouse before her brain does, all ten fingers and toes coming to life as they tense, wiggle and then relax. The blanket grazes against her bare calves where the legs of the loose sweatpants she'd borrowed had bunched up at her knees during the night. A leg bends, hitching higher until a foot brushing an ankle that isn't her own and her thigh curls around one of Wang Yi's.

She's laying on her right side, plastered up against him as he sleeps on his back. Her left arm is thrown across his waist while his stretches out, supporting her neck. Her right is bent and trapped trapped beneath her chest, growing numb, whereas Wang Yi's rests comfortably at his side. Nicolette's head fits into the curve of his neck, face buried against his shoulder.

Oh, yes, she remembers now— after he'd cared for her all evening and beginning of the night, the exhaustion hit her like a train. Those handful of hours with him had felt like days with how much they'd jampacked into them. She hadn't even had to ask about staying over. Wang Yi had simply offered her a pair of pants and pulled the covers back like it was something they'd done a hundred times before. It didn't feel strange or awkward to crawl into the space beside him, and she hadn't hesitated getting closer.

It wasn't at all like the first time, when he'd fallen asleep at the edge of the bed while reading to her before ultimately leaving the room. It wasn't even like the second time, where he begged her to stay after a fight that had felt much bigger and more important than any other petty argument they'd had. They slept in the same bed, then. Like friends at a sleepover. Side-by-side, with a strange distance despite being close enough their arms could've brushed with the slightest movement.

The distance is gone, now.

Thinking back, she recalls the way he'd been shocked by her clinginess ( but also that he had not rejected it ). Her excuse had been that sleeping on her back hurt too much because of the wounds, and it was easier like this because it took the weight off. It was partially true— she hardly feels them at all right now, as long as she remains still. Wang Yi had not put up a fight about it. Did not demand room to breathe or complain about being uncomfortable. In fact, he almost held her closer, and seemed more amused by her excuses then anything else.

The last thing Nicolette remembers is the feeling of his fingers brushing hair from her face and stroking over the bandages at her shoulder. It was the most peaceful night of sleep she's had since the mist ( maybe even before that ). She feels more rested than she has in ages. It makes her reluctant to let it end, but then Wang Yi begins to stir beneath her snake-like constricting and Nicolette knows there's no use holding on. She makes a noise of complaint anyway and he responds with a questioning sound of his own, clearly not-yet fully awake.

❝ Mn... Yiyi— ❞ She starts, unsure of where her sleep-addled brain plans on going with the forming thought, but it is effectively deleted the moment she turns her head to look at him the same time he cranes his neck to look at her. They meet by way of mouth— or, to be more specific, Wang Yi's lips meet the skin beneath her left eye. They brush towards her cheekbone, trailing along the trademark scars. He lingers even as she blinks at him in surprise, but neither move to pull away. It's a terribly vulnerable place to be touched and it freezes her in place. Her relationship with the marks is a complicated one. They used to make her feel self-conscious, afraid that the only good thing about her had been ruined.

The resentment towards their existence is not gone, but by this point she's left behind most of the insecurities. They merely add to her mysterious allure. People loved to ask questions, and she loved to tell grander and grander lies about how they were received. Still, no one ever touched them. No one was allowed to touch them— Hell, she hardly put her own hands anywhere near unless out of nervous habit. But Wang Yi is doing just that, and she's... letting him, eyes closing without her permission. What started as an accident is now done with intention as his lips move slowly over the marks as if to feel out their shape. He seems intrigued by them, but Nicolette realizes he may still be half asleep when his tongue peeks out to lick over the ridges of a scar and she gasps.

He goes to do it again and it knocks a laugh from her lungs, eyes crinkling at the corners as she dissolves further into amusement and swats at his chest. ❝ What the Hell are you doing?? ❞ She pulls back, both palms pressing into the mattress on either side of his body so she can hover above him. Plum stands pool in rivulets beside his head as she laughs in his face.

That seems to be enough to fully knock the sense back into his brain and eradicate the last vestiges of sleep. He doesn't appear apologetic, though. Instead he considers it, then replies, ❝ I was curious what they felt like. ❞ As if that made total sense. The same curiosity as when he'd expressed interest in tasting her blood. It makes her giggle harder and she shoves her hand against his cheek, breathing ❛ you're so fucking weird ❜ like it's the greatest compliment one could give.

She moves to sit up fully, turning her back towards him before Nicolette feels the bed dip as he gets up too. Her hair spills over her shoulders, the muscles of her back shifting as she arches and lifts both arms above her head to stretch. It's not the smartest idea, considering her injuries are still healing, and she hisses through her teeth as the position tugs painfully at a few fresh stitches. Still, Nicolette finds herself smiling, because she can feel Wang Yi's eyes on her. She snorts, rubbing at her cheeks as they begin to warm under the attention.

❝ I swear you're doing that on purpose, ❞ he mutters, but the complaint hardly holds up when he reaches out to drag a hand down the bandages he'd wrapped himself. As he strokes further down, the pressure shifting from gentle and tender to firm and purposeful. It delivers the desired effect, encouraging both soft sighs and hitches of breath followed by quiet, wounded noises.

Nicolette shivers. ❝ That's a bold accusation, ❞ she teases, ❝ I'm innocent— scout's honor. ❞ Wang Yi scoffs from behind and her smile grows wider. She doesn't have to look to know his expression is one exasperation when he mutters ❛ Innocent? Since when? Do you even know what that word means? ❜ Oh, her cheeks hurt from grinning. She's grateful he cannot see it, but he can probably hear it in her voice, anyway. ❝ Oh yeah? Correct me if my memory is failing, but you didn't seem too bothered by it last night. ❞

That gets him, but he hardly seems to shy away from the callout as he once would've. There's no reason to— they aren't supposed to hide things, after all. ❝ That was last night, ❞ he insists, ❝ and as much as I might want to mess you up, I just put you back together. Don't go doing anything stupid like busting open your stitches so soon. ❞ Contrary to his words, his fingers press into her tender flesh as they slide to the curve of her waist, causing her to gasp ❛ Hypocrite! ❜ without any actual heat. The pressure is gone just as quickly. ❝ I should probably leave soon, anyway. ❞ He sighs, and Nicolette doesn't miss the quiet mutter under his breath ❛ shouldn't put this off ❜.

❝ No fair. ❞ She complains, but it's only for the sake of being selfish. Nicolette vaguely remembers him mentioning visiting other people, and she supposes it makes sense, considering the state the mist had left her in. It doesn't make her any less disappointed about having to go back to the cold solitude of her apartment. But she's not about to start acting like a jealous girlfriend just because she's lonely. She has no right to, and it'll only freak him out. Still... ❝ Hey, Wang Yi... ❞ Nicolette murmurs, sounding more hesitant than intended. ❝ If I... need help again, could I— I mean, I can do it on my own, obviously, but— ❞

Noticing her clear struggle, the way her shoulders hunch up to her ears, Wang Yi shuts her up as effectively as his instincts encourage. He leans forward, pressing his lips between her shoulder blades, feeling the way she relaxes almost immediately. The longer they remain, the more the tension melts away. It's nothing like kissing her bare skin, but the heat is transferred between them anyway, through the layer of bandages. ❝ Nicolette, ❞ he starts, and she can feel his lips form around the syllables of her name, ❝ bandages shouldn't be left on for too long without being replaced. Especially if they get dirty. When it's time to change them again, let me know. I'll do it for you. ❞ And that's it. That's all it takes for him to save her from herself. Screw whatever shortcomings or struggle she has with asking for help— she doesn't need to ask, then.

Heat pools in her stomach and on her face— colors from cheeks to ears. There's warmth blooming in her chest and fluttering in her guts. It feels nice, to be cared for like that. To not have to beg for it. ❝ Mmn... okay. I'll hold you to that— it's too much of a hassle to do by myself, anyway. ❞ It's the closest she can get to admitting how good it felt to be tended to by his hands. To be touched and desired despite her broken state, allowing respite from the events that gave her the wounds in the first place. It's the best she can do to express how comforting it was to share a bed with another body— his body.

It's the only way she knows how to convey the trust she's placed in him, until the opportunity presents itself to word it better, later. Later, when more of this makes sense. For now, it's enough.

❝ Well, if you're kicking me out, you better give me a jacket to put on— I'm not leaving your condo with my tits out, bandages or not. ❞ From over her shoulder she offers him a smile and adds, ❝ I want breakfast, too. You won't force me to leave hungry when I'm in recovery, will you, Yiyi? ❞