A Diva Down in the Dumps

[Weonna]

Rianne had absolutely nothing to say.

The kiss against her forehead completely disarmed her.

Her lips parted as if some biting little comeback was ready to emerge, but nothing came. Then Domino's palm slipped around to the front of her throat...not squeezing, merely resting there...and whatever remained of Rianne's usual bravado seemed to evaporate.

She felt completely powerless and vulnerable with him.

Rianne swallowed beneath his palm, her eyes remaining fixed upon those deep purple ones staring down at her. Her cheeks were practically burning now.

"What am I gonna..."

Her voice trailed away.

This was supposed to be the part where she insulted him. Where she slapped his hand away and reminded him exactly who he was dealing with. Instead, Rianne remained there beneath him, allowing his other hand to continue working the tension from her shoulder while she simply stared back.

"...I hate you."

It came out barely above a whisper.

Even Rianne couldn't pretend there was any hatred behind it.

Her hand slowly rose to Domino's wrist, fingers curling loosely around it without making the slightest effort to remove his palm from her throat.

She held it there.

Rianne's eyes narrowed slightly, attempting one final scrap of defiance despite the helpless little smile threatening the corner of her lips.

"Look at you... all pleased with yourself."

Her gaze flickered briefly toward his lips before snapping back to his eyes.

"...Prat."

[CyanDimitrik]

In this moment, every small thing mattered significantly. Every glance, every flicker of the gaze, every touch, every word, the way the words were spoken... it all was being hyper-scrutinized. And he knows he isn't the only one with tensions spiking right now in the best way. The way she's looking at him is new. It's uniquely attractive on her face, unlike anything she's shown him before.

She whispers that she hates him, and there isn't even a modicum of truth behind it. He could feel all too easily how she relaxed into him, how naturally her eyes were drawn to his. And then the hand raised, her slender fingers hooking his wrist - no effort to pull away. Just a point of contact. Nearly hand-holding, but somehow more intimate, like she wanted his hand there on her throat - subconscious submission.

Maybe he's reading too far into it.

He doesn't have enough time to fixate on it, however. Her next words draw another smirk. He wasn't smug about it before, but with her accusing him of being pleased with himself, he kind'a is now. Not that she seemed to actually mind. Or even seem turned off by it. Rather, the flicker of her gaze to his lips is all he needed.

Domino gives no verbal response here. He leans in again, his head tilting to bring his lips to meet hers. The kiss is a new one, upside-down, but exciting in its novelty. The hand at her shoulder pauses its massage as his focus turns elsewhere, the other hand brushing upwards just a little to draw her head back more to him. The kiss itself is affectionately soft and patient, exploring this new side of Rianne - different from the aggressive and dominantly forceful kisses they shared before.

[Weonna]

The moment Domino's lips met hers, every thought in Rianne's head seemed to simply... stop.

Her eyes widened at first.

This wasn't like before.

Their previous kisses had carried the same fire as practically everything else between them...challenging, aggressive, each seemingly determined to overpower the other. There had always been something competitive buried even within their affection.

But this?

This was gentle.

And somehow that left Rianne feeling far more exposed than anything Domino had done to her before...(well besides the shagging.)

Her eyelids slowly fluttered shut.

The fingers curled around his wrist tightened slightly, and Rianne tilted her head farther back into his guiding hand before finally returning the kiss. There was no attempt to seize control from him. No sudden burst of aggression or stubborn need to prove she could make him submit to her.

She simply kissed him slowly and tenderly.

And bloody hell, she hated how much she needed this right now.

After the humiliation of tonight, after sitting here stewing in her own anger and wounded pride, Domino hadn't laughed at her. He hadn't rubbed the loss in her face. He'd come looking for her, put his hands on her aching shoulders, told her she was better than what happened out there...

And now he was kissing her like she actually mattered to him.

That realization sent another wave of warmth through Rianne's chest.

Eventually, their lips began to separate.

Rianne's eyes remained closed for another second, almost unwilling to acknowledge that the kiss had ended. When they finally opened, she looked directly up into Domino's.

There was no smirk...No sarcastic little sneer.

Not even the slightest attempt to hide behind that familiar Sexy Diva arrogance.

Her eyes simply stared into his, softened and vulnerable, carrying a quiet need that she would've been mortified to ever admit aloud.

[CyanDimitrik]

It took a second or two, but the moment Rianne began kissing back, everything had changed. No aggression, no competition, no.. anything of the usual bravado or pomp the diva always projected. This was raw and earnest. This wasn't fueled by the animalistic desire and confusing passions that they'd last clashed with. This desire was soft, sweet, and affectionate. This desire was the need to be taken care of. Not the need to dominate. Nor the need to be dominated.

No, this was maybe the least complicated Domino has ever experienced her. And he liked it. Would it last..?

The kiss slowly, naturally breaks, and Domino is in no rush to withdraw from her. He remains bare centimeters from her lips for several seconds, relishing the feel of the kiss still lingering on his lips and the warm breeze of her breath on his skin. But finally, he felt the need to look at her face in full. And when he withdrew enough to meet her gaze - there she was.

Looking back at him.

She's giving no smirk, no defensive posturing. She's looking at him with the same quiet sincerity that he's sure he's reflecting back at her.

The hand at her throat brushes lightly along her skin, stroking gently. The hand at her shoulder raises and closes in, delicately drawing her hair out of and away from her eyes.

"...Drake," he says finally, quietly. "My name's Drake."

[Weonna]

Rianne stared up at him.

"...Drake."

She said it quietly.

Not Domino. Not some irritating nickname. Not "prat," "wanker," or whatever insult happened to leave her mouth whenever he got on her nerves.

Drake.

Her lips moved around the name almost experimentally, as though she were properly learning it for the first time.

"Drake..."

She repeated it, softer still.

For a moment, a tiny, genuine smile tugged at the corners of Rianne's lips.

Then came the silence.

And the longer it went on, the more painfully aware Rianne became of just how vulnerable she'd made herself.

"...Right."

Her eyes darted away.

"So, uh..."

Nothing.

Rianne's cheeks burned brighter.

She grumbled under her breath, brow knitting together as though she were becoming genuinely annoyed at herself for not being able to spit out whatever she wanted to say.

"Look, since you're apparently so determined t'make yourself useful tonight..."

She paused.

"...you could..."

Her voice dropped into an unintelligible mumble.

Rianne's expression immediately soured.

"...Oi, don't look at me like that!"

He hadn't even said anything.

She huffed and turned her face farther away.

"I said you could... y'know..."

Another pause.

"...be me comfort."

Her eyes widened the instant the words escaped.

"Just fer tonight!"

There it was.

The defensive Rianne came roaring back as she finally looked up at him, cheeks absolutely crimson.

"Don't you go gettin' all smug about it, neither! I've 'ad a bloody awful night, ain't I? I'm knackered, I'm pissed off, and you're..."

Her eyes briefly wandered over him.

"...comfortable-lookin'."

She immediately looked away again.

"That's it! Ain't nothin' else to it!"

Rianne finally released his wrist before scooting toward one end of the couch. She left a very obvious Drake-sized space beside her, though her folded arms and stubborn little pout suggested she'd sooner die than openly acknowledge she'd done so.

"C'mon, then."

She tilted her head toward the empty space.

"Get yer arse over 'ere."

Another little silence followed.

Rianne's pout deepened.

"I need a body pillow, alright?"

She glanced toward him from the corner of her eye.

"...And apparently you're volunteerin'."

Then, considerably quieter:

"So quit makin' me bloody ask twice..."

Her gaze dropped as she muttered the last part beneath her breath.

"...Drake."

[CyanDimitrik]

Hearing his name on her lips was as foreign as the gentle smile she was showing him. He liked that, too. It felt like a dam was breaking somehow, and he was finally seeing the real Rianne beneath the glitz and glamor. She was always beautiful, but in this moment of vulnerability, she became radiant.

And then it was gone.

"Oh." He blinks down at her. She's doing everything she can to be furtive with her looks, while he's left feeling social whiplash. A part of him wants to come right out and challenge her on this thing, what feels to be a facade, but- he doesn't. Perhaps it's easier to let her navigate her feelings this way. Maybe it's because what she's saying is still something he wants to hear.

That is, if he could hear it. She's mumbling!

He leans in a little closer, eyes narrowing in a squint. And then she says it outright: be her comfort. It's so... simple, so direct, so honest with her desires, he can't help but be a little stunned by it. But she must have caught the smile starting to spread on his face, since she's warning him to not be smug!

His hands lift in the internationally-recognized sign of 'dindunuffin' innocence, her throat now released from his touch. But she's demanding again, in her own fitful way, so he starts to maneuver around the couch. Only he pauses mid-sit when she says his name again. He heard it, in the stillness of the room it couldn't be drowned out.

He lowers himself onto the cushion beside her, one knee resting across the cushion so as to turn and face her more directly.

"Hey," he says, canting his head. There's a playful spark lighting behind those purple eyes. "Tonight's yours." He reaches a hand forward to find her nearest forearm. Not to grab or seize, but to brush along the skin invitingly. "That's what I came for. So if you wanna lay on me..." He nods to her. It felt weird to say it so bluntly. But that spark makes a return with a mischievous grin. "..or if you wanna pin me like you were in the ring... only to take your time and really enjoy it... however you want... no interruptions..."