[attr="class","illie"]

[attr="class","illie b"]

[attr="class","illie i"]there's nothing poetic about ruination. breaking apart at seams worn down. crumbling beneath malnutrition and lack of care. you look to broken buildings and half standing bits of the past and think man, that's an amazing timestamp of ancient history. you never think how it has weathered the years. how harsh weather, war, and destruction have changed the original architecture...

illeana reyes is no different. there's nothing poetic about the fall. icarus's sister plunging to her death, wax coating a body charred by flying too high, daring to touch the sun.

where she is icarus, fernando silph is the center of the universe. bright, shining, pulling everyone and everything into his orbit. it's as impressive and glamorous as it is deadly.

she'll be a casualty of his touch. it might not be soon but it's certain. he will destroy her and she'll let him.

tonight, there's a different kind of destruction to be had. mutual, solely based on attraction like atoms coming together because the pull is too strong to keep them apart.

and she's too far gone to stop, too deep in the rabbit hole to keep from falling. there's hesitation in some of her movements, a memory clinging to the skin. it's written over with touch and kiss, new memories being etched into skin like tattoos. deep enough to bleed but can it cover the past? can it erase the ink beneath with new lines?

misty terrain clings to corners of a room. blanketing, hiding, and her skin crawls with sensations craved. there's a prickling at the back of the neck like eyes following the silhouette. it stays unnoticed, forgotten and erased.

|||||||

butterfly kisses trace her arm. she stirs slightly, shifting further into the comfort of blankets and pillows. her skin reacts to touch, goosebumps rising without hesitation. morning light bleeds in through cracks in curtains. it's persistent in pulling her from the clutches of sleep until she's beginning to wake.

"fuck," comes first, hissed out as tired eyes finally blink open and the start of a headache eases into the temples. realization comes second, the proximity of body heat causing her to glance over her shoulder. she'll find him there and a small lazy smile creeps onto her lips. the aftermath of affection lingers on her skin in the form of faint tingles before fading entirely.

"hi."

FERNANDO SILPH

[attr="class","illie"]

[attr="class","illie b"]

[attr="class","illie i"]another kiss presses to skin in the absence of words. she can't say she minds much. the gentleness of it all elicits a soft sigh, even as he pulls away, as he moves up. gazes lock and she's searching for something she doesn't know, something she doesn't expect. it ends when he drifts in, eyes fluttering shut in anticipation.

she'll meet him halfway, lips parting and melting into affection. it's different than last night, than the starved hunger boiling into their movement. gentle, intimate, loving. truthfully, it's a side to him she's never seen. slow and sweet like honey dripping from a spoon and it's so easy to get stuck.

illeana shifts closer, opening herself up to the affection, to him. his touch is gentle, fingers weaving into empty spaces and lacing with her own. another sigh is breathed into him and swallowed up. part of her wants to stay here a while longer, kept in a softness that can't be broken by the outside world. she knows it's impossible but god, wouldn't that be nice? the notion keeps her locked in kisses, locked in him and what solace he offers.

FERNANDO SILPH

[attr="class","illie"]

[attr="class","illie b"]

[attr="class","illie i"]she's come to find out there's a science in everything.

experiments with variables changing or constant, hypothesis's created through experience and collected data. where this coupling could be considered anything but, it had begun as a theory. the formula written in the confines of a busy club and left to collect dust for months. picked back up upon her return like a mystery waiting to be solved. plug in the equation, add the pieces together, and get a result.

if only she actually knew what she was getting into.

as if the first result wasn't satisfying enough, the second becomes just as pleasing as the first. somewhere the line blurs and bleeds into hunger for more than just the satisfaction of a proven theory. it had been messy before the morning and now that line no longer exists, pieces of it scattered on the floor with articles of clothing.

there's similarities between what drives them. hunger matches hunger, appetite not sated as if they are starving despite eating just before bed. it starts with a kiss and ends with a satisfied sigh. breaking away from each other comes next, his body moving away first and hers shifting a moment later.

she'll take the offer without hesitation, flashing a lazy smile before escaping to the warmth of a shower. soap and hot water washes away sin but sensation of touch lingers long after she has finished and dried off. he'll find her starting to replace clothes when he returns, blonde hair still damp.

"fernando," she murmurs, glancing his way. there's mild amusement in her expression, in the way her lips settle on the ghost of a smile. "already gonna put me to work?"

FERNANDO SILPH

[attr="class","illie"]

[attr="class","illie b"]

[attr="class","illie i"]her hands still in the process of changing, the fabric of her dress settling around her waist. "yes," she murmurs. business mode is back and she's faced with an almost fond familiarity. "if you have a job for me then i'll do it."

dressing is resumed as he whips out wrinkles in his own clothes. straps put back into place, skin half hidden away. she'll run her fingers over creases until it looks somewhat presentable.

"what do you mean by becoming more independent?" curiosity etches itself into her features and she's probing for more information to solve an equation. "i had assumed the league had a hand in everything... is that no longer the case?" has she missed more than she originally thought? apparently so.

illeana is quick to move, quick to settle onto the corner of his bed and begin the process of finger combing through drying hair. her attention stays on him, never shifting. "honestly, it doesn't bother me to not work for the league anymore. i agreed to join you simply because i want to. league or no league." he can offer her what the league cannot, that much they both understand.

and while he might not need her, she needs him in a way that he recognizes, that he uses to his advantage. despite all the changes to personality and appearances, she's still an unconscious pawn in his hands.

FERNANDO SILPH

[attr="class","illie"]

[attr="class","illie b"]

[attr="class","illie i"]without him, the league wouldn't reach as far as it does. bright yellow wouldn't bleed into every aspect of hoenn. and without him pulling strings like a puppeteer, would things be worse? it's difficult to tell in the moment, in the aftermath with not one but two sides of him so familiar.

even without the security of knowing she's in better hands, she'll still place her piece on the board with his. aligned on his side as a pawn, a knight, a queen. black and white, one moving and one conquering.

"that they are," she echoes, fingers stilling in strands of hair for a moment. "but not all of them are good for the parties involved." sometimes, partnerships are best left broken. her fingers resume combing.

more important to look after themselves. a piece of advice she's rooted into her mind, allowing it to steadily grow and overtake outdated traits. don't be a doormat, don't be a lamb. if there is anything she has learned, it's the simple fact that you only have yourself. that knowledge has made her free, yes, but also green eyed and hungry.

"look after yourself, your loved ones, and hope for the best?" a shrug follows and her hands leave her hair, now tangle free, to strum lightly against the skin of her thighs. an anxious tic persistently clinging to her movements. "it's only going to get worse from here."

there's always something looming, something coming.

a leg rises to cross over the other and she looks at him, expectant. "would we come into conflict with the league?" she doesn't quite understand, brain still mildly hazy from breakfast in bed. it'll take a few more minutes before the cogs in the machine fully turn. "would they take kindly to people leaving? after knowing what they do?" she has her doubts, truthfully.

FERNANDO SILPH

[attr="class","illie"]

[attr="class","illie b"]

[attr="class","illie i"]silent and still, even as he approaches. she doesn't bother speaking, not when he's languid in the approach, his laughter echoing in her ears. there's purpose to the movement. the rising of a hand brings with it a fluttering. his fingers tickle the underside of her chin and she's shivering involuntarily.

the room almost seems to fade into white noise compared to that look in his eye. that smile, that familiar expression. she should recognize it. she had used it on him herself, after all. a breathy sigh escapes, then, and she's understanding that there's no going back now. not after last night, not after this morning, not after that look he's giving her.

illeana is all but putty in his hands, just the way he wanted.

"what do you consider yours?" it's soft, curious. hesitant to read between lines, not wanting to assume based on a look alone.

he speaks of the impossible for he thinks in futures she can't fathom. and as such, he plans for when those futures come knocking on the door. her head tilts slightly at the concept.

"have you formulated a plan, yet?" of course he has. he's fernando silph. the real question should be what it means for her.

FERNANDO SILPH

[attr="class","illie"]

[attr="class","illie b"]

[attr="class","illie i"]is that disappointment she tastes? no, it couldn't be. she licks her lips and the bitterness lingers, evading her senses. she'll ignore it as best she can, if only to keep herself from getting in too deep. impossible, but she'll try.

he leaves it open ended, lingering in a space she could attach her own meaning to. does she want to? or is it better to leave implications unspoken? she deliberates in the silence of a pause, fixing him with an almost expectant stare. as if she needs his help to understand the mess in her head, as if he could sort through it and settle on the right answer.

he doesn't, he won't. she has to do it for herself.

"you'll succeed," she murmurs, finally plucking an answer and holding it close. something sparks in the eyes, halfway between understanding and gratitude. it goes one way and then the other until it bleeds into certainty. "you always do." and then, she's pulling her head away from his touch, planting her hands behind her and leaning her weight back onto her arms.

employee or friend, that's her classification. not quite one but more of another yet still in uncharted territory to be sure.

she flashes a satisfied smile, then, as if his answer falls into what expectations she had going forward. "how are you going to ensure my success?" become the puppeteer behind her strings? it's not a guarantee, especially given the previous sentence. "you're certain i'll be appreciated beneath you?" it's only half an innuendo if she stops to think about it. she doesn't, however, instead quirking an eyebrow and tilting her head.

FERNANDO SILPH