[Chishiya lets him talk. Lets the accent roll around in his head, wrap around his mind and gather memories of every other time he's heard it. On rooftops and side-streets, face down on Phyre's bed and wrapped up a cold embrace to not-fly through the city.
Dripping with desperation under his hands, smeared in blood and stained with desire.
Chishiya doesn't forget, he compartmentalizes.
And he watches. The tone of Phyre's voice, tracks where Phyre's gaze goes and how he stands. How he shuffles, and looks away. The sharp line of his shoulder and the way the wind doesn't touch him even when it's freezing.]
It was a game. There was no choice.
[He would have done the same no matter who had entered that garden with him. Chishiya would have followed the rules to the letter, let himself be undressed and would put his mouth to use.
He didn't have to be kind.
That was the only choice he had, and he'd used it fully.
Dog in room on fire - this is fine
Dripping with desperation under his hands, smeared in blood and stained with desire.
Chishiya doesn't forget, he compartmentalizes.
And he watches. The tone of Phyre's voice, tracks where Phyre's gaze goes and how he stands. How he shuffles, and looks away. The sharp line of his shoulder and the way the wind doesn't touch him even when it's freezing.]
It was a game. There was no choice.
[He would have done the same no matter who had entered that garden with him. Chishiya would have followed the rules to the letter, let himself be undressed and would put his mouth to use.
He didn't have to be kind.
That was the only choice he had, and he'd used it fully.
But threats?]