is this a love in disguise, or just a form of modern art? [C]

Silverhawk
T3 Warrior | ShadowClan | he/him

Afternoon sunlight spread across the forest floor, reaching through the prickly-boughed conifers that sprouted along the border. Highpine was one corner of the territory that Silverhawk found himself venturing to nearly as often as the Pine Grove. From his very first days as an apprentice, he'd been drawn to it: at first, out of curiosity for the tom Redice mangled and the massive she-cats that came in search of him, but the interest was proving to be lifelong. Silverhawk found more interesting conversations at this border than any others. SkyClan certainly produced some fascinating cats--cats like Bubblepaw. In spite of all the derision he privately looked on her with for being so naive and friendly... he did think of her as a friend now. It was shameful, that his only friend beside Hawkmist was from another Clan entirely, but at least he had one at all.

Silverhawk hadn't taken up the daytime expedition with the intention of seeing her, but now that he walked along the scent-line, he couldn't keep himself from scanning the underbrush in search of a flash of gray. He would need to find her soon anyway, whether it be here or at a Gathering. Silverhawk was curious whether her Ploverpaw had managed a miraculous return. Now that they were back in the territories, it was unlikely she'd ever be seen again if she hadn't been found already. Silverhawk had no hope for the sister's life--and selfishly, a touch guiltily, he hoped Ploverpaw had been left behind--but he'd made a promise. Since he hadn't seen Ploverpaw himself, it would do well to check with Bubblepaw when he saw her again. And luck might have been on his side: Silverhawk tilted his head curiously, squinting into the harshly bright sunlight. Had he seen her fur, creeping through the woods? "Bubblepaw?" He called out, tail curling curiously behind him.

profile | playlist | discord: downfive | timezone: est | code (c) kieer

Silverhawk
T3 Warrior | ShadowClan | he/him

There it was.

Silverhawk angled his head up, searching for the streak of gray he'd seen. Too big to be any sort of prey-thing, and so were the accompanying scrabbling sounds. He squinted, looking toward the sun. Its glare was painful to his shade-accustomed eyes, and he found it difficult to make out anything other than the shape of branches and the colors surrounding. His muzzle pinched into a scowl, but Silverhawk kept his attention stubbornly skyward. With enough persistence, he was certain he could find his quarry--though not if it found him first. The voice he'd been hoping for echoed down from above, calling out that diminutive little nickname that, for some reason, always made his whiskers shiver. He was going to trill back, but he let the sound of Bubblepaw dismounting cut him off. The rake of claws through bark didn't sound as smooth as it had moments ago, and something instinctive told him to move, but what did he know about the sounds of tree-climbing? And so long as Bubblepaw didn't fall on him, what did it matter? She would survive.

Silverhawk blinked. His vision grew darker by a shade, so he blinked again, gratefully readjusting to the blocked sun, and his ears went flat immediately. "Wait--"

Down came Bubblepaw, landing squarely on his back. There was nothing Silverhawk's legs could do to keep him upright against the added weight gravity dragged her to the ground with. He folded on impact, turned into a heap of ungainly tangled limbs, with several joints complaining from the sudden jolt. His tail fluttered wildly back and forth across the ground as heat spread through his pelt, concentrated in his face and ears. She'd done that on purpose! Blasted Bubblepaw, she'd thrown herself from her perch with the intent of bringing him to the ground just to give him a headache and make him look foolish. Did she finally learn to abandon all her childish fancies of friendship? Was this when she got her head on straight and attacked him on sight? Silverhawk was furiously embarrassed to think she could hold him in place with some ease if she'd landed with her paws on him, and maim him even easier if he didn't try to get away soon. Curse him! She'd stolen his game and spun it on him, turned him into the long-term fool. Now he was muddy and sore, and he was sure he looked like the greatest idiot she knew. Silverhawk's stomach coiled. He could see it in her eyes, her--

She wasn't looking at him with hostility at all. No bloodlust, either. No jeering or malice. She just... looked at him. Silverhawk could feel his muscles squirming beneath the fur, uncomfortable and elated and enraged all at once, but his body didn't move. He was perfectly still, like the slightest twitch would invite death or, worse, disgrace--or, even worse than that, contact. Silverhawk failed to notice how close they really were in the first moments of surprised fury, but now that he'd been distracted by her eyes up close, he was aware of her breath mingling with his own. Even twitching a whisker might accidentally press their noses together. Silverhawk met her eyes, bright and pretty and soft and taking him in like the most interesting thing in the world. He wanted to fold his body up to drive his hindpaws into her gut, forcing her off him, but... Silverhawk's whiskers set so shaking again. It wasn't his moment's rage that encouraged the impulse. It was- it was the same not-quite-aggression that flipped his stomach when Hawkmist had him pinned in a real fight.

Then realization set in--for both of them--and the glittering eyes were gone with Bubblepaw's hasty retreat. Their limbs were unfolded and she zipped back into place. Silverhawk shifted his head to watch, muttering wordlessly about the twinge in his neck. What, you just fall out of a tree and don't even bother to help me up? He thought bitterly, which made his tail whisk again. Quit that! What did it matter, whether she got him to his paws or not? She was already apologizing, and she half-looked like he bit her for it. You would just be more upset if she tried to help. Get over yourself.

"...Wow," Silverhawk breathed as he eventually got to rolling up onto his paws. He took a moment to stretch, working out the strained and compressed joints with a quiet hiss. Then, his eyes found Bubble-not-paw's eyes again, sparkling even brighter. It was such a contrast to how she'd been at the lake. He had no right to feel as content with the revelation as he was. He didn't want to feel content about it, not with that thought of Hawkmist now sticking in mind. He wanted to latch onto all his viciousness and leave her with a good mark across the other eye, send her running far and fast so he'd never have to think about them in the same breath.

Instead, "Is trespassing a rite of passage for new warriors in SkyClan?" The crease left his expression, replaced with demure playfulness. "Or is it falling out of trees?" A thin, tittering laugh bubbled up after his words. Why didn't he just leave? She gave him the perfect out, with the excuse of fury--it wasn't even an excuse! It was truth! Why did he stay? Why did he lean further into her attention, letting the bright chatter ease the ruffles from his fur? He was disgusted with himself.

"I told you you'd be a warrior soon," Silverhawk went on casually. He issued a squint as a quiet display of pride, kicked himself for it mentally, then drew his limbs close and reclined onto his haunches. "It's nice to see you here again, too, Bubble..." his voice trailed away. Silverhawk tipped his head quizzically to the side, tail sweeping out in the opposite direction while he took her in. "-shine? You're certainly radiant." He wagered after a moment. His throat bobbed uncomfortably around his next words, trying to choke them down as soon as his mind supplied them, but no amount of tongue-biting kept the wagging muscle at bay. "Bubbbleee...blossom? Bubblebloom? You've done that, too." Not for the first time, a fact that made his face burn all over again, his voice wavered in front of her. "Bloom- bloomed, I mean."

profile | playlist | discord: downfive | timezone: est | code (c) kieer

Silverhawk
T3 Warrior | ShadowClan | he/him

The frown she sent him was the closest thing to a look of real frustration he'd seen from Bubble. Silverhawk dimly wondered if she'd gotten sick of his teasing, but she quashed the inadmissible concern quickly. "Obviously not," Silverhawk confirmed immediately, laughing again and waving his tail. Perfect spoken in her bright chimes sent little, angry rabbit feet kicking off the sides of his heart. Was she just making fun of him? No--she'd expressed similar sentiments before, about how fascinating she found him... And, upon searching her eyes, Silverhawk found the pools of gentle green illumined only by a twinkle playfulness. The corresponding rush that went through him was dizzying. Bubble knew better than to believe him--she'd seen him awful, ugly, and bare with emotion--but she played along anyway.

Not only that: she was tempting him to do the same. Stars. How could he refuse a shining smile like that, even if he wanted to knock all its teeth out on rocks? Or the way Bubble purred, deep in the throat his teeth were itching to sink into? He'd never made someone purr like that. Hearing it sent a ripple through his fur. Why can't Pigeon ever act happy to see me? The voice of his thoughts was woeful, but any sense of lamentation was gone in an instant to be replaced with disgust. Hawkmist, acting like this? It nearly made him shudder. No, he almost needed the hostility more.

But coming from Bubble-- Bubblebeam (perfectly fitting whether it was for sun or smile)...

Silverhawk's eyes flicked back, scanning quickly for any sign of a daylight patrol. If he was going to do something incomprehensibly foolish, then he wanted no spectators. He had the feeling Leopardstar and Sablestrike wouldn't believe him if he insisted he'd been this close to digging his claws into the rival warrior. When he didn't immediately see anything suspicious, Silverhaw's attention returned forward.

Fluid as the river, he rose to his paws and took a step closer. "Bubblebeam," he echoed, the name cradled gently on his tongue. It wasn't soft in the ethereal way Hawkmist's was, but it inspired the same appreciation all the same. It was a good name for her--apparently, though, not good enough for her. Silverhawk's ears stood at full attention, brows lifting with amused endearment as Bubblebeam set to sputtering. Yours, even. Wasn't that a novel thought? It made Silverhawk feel like his chest was exploding; like a hot brand was dropped into the pit of oxygen, striking his lungs aflame. She offered an explanation quickly, of course, and her heated fluttering worked wonders to mask the similar reaction rising through his skin.

Yours, even. Was it an honest slip of the tongue, words really tangling? Or was Bubblebeam taken with him, and the accident lay in revealing that? The prospect made Silverhawk's claws itch in their sheaths. Were there no suitable toms in SkyClan for her to fall over? Well--of course there weren't. Who could be more handsome or impressive than him? His brain unhelpfully supplied Hawkmist, and Silverhawk shook his head immediately, joining Bubblebeam in trying to clear the confusion from the air. His pawpads sizzled like he stood atop a field of lightning. Bubblebeam's laugh, rich with the flush that darkened her ears, sent the jolts all the way up through his legs, into his ribs. He was confused and dizzy and furious and oh, having the time of his life.

He'd been passively wandering closer while Bubblebeam chattered herself in circles, finding himself standing right over the scent line at her apology. "Good with words? Please, you make me lose any sense of diction." He chuckled softly. "And for what it's worth... I'm rather charmed by whatever you happen to say." He was terrible for this. Silverhawk knew he was; just awful. But... he no longer knew where the charade ended and the truth began. Somehow, that was worse. At least Bubblebeam was finally offering him the chance to talk--and earning a pleased trill at the offer of praise.

"Well-deserved? Well, thank you," Silverhawk purred. His tail swished lazily back and forth and he scuffed the ground gently, affecting some degree of humbleness. "Oh, not much... just that all my little siblings are apprentices now. One of them is even my apprentice." There was no stifling the way his chest puffed out then. It was an honor to mentor an apprentice so young, and an even greater one to mentor his own brother. "His name is Wolfpaw. I would offer to introduce you to  him, but be warned: he bites." Silverhawk laughed again, a gentle sound from between his ribs. "Has the most awful temper, too, but he's a good kit. Other than that..." Bubblebeam didn't really need to know about their strange guests nor their recent troubles with predators, even though the words to tell her nearly rose to his tongue. Why did he want to tell her, anyway? "Nothing much. ShadowClan's been quiet. ...Finally, bless the stars."

As his words trailed away, Silverhawk sent Bubblebeam a quizzical blink--a look like he only just noticed how close they'd gotten again, despite the intention in his wandering steps. His eyes trailed down, offering the same pattern of blinks to his paws before looking up again, meeting Bubblebeam's radiant smile with his own crooked one. "Oh, my," he hummed, entirely unbothered. "I'm nearly the one trespassing now, aren't I?" Silverhawk cocked his head to the side. He squinted again, his usual expression of mirth, but there was a shine of challenge in the look, too. "I suppose I don't have to ask you to come closer, do I... what was that you said I should call you?" A sharp inhale to punctuate a snicker, "Mine?"

profile | playlist | discord: downfive | timezone: est | code (c) kieer

Silverhawk
T3 Warrior | ShadowClan | he/him

It was hard not to feel as if he'd done something wrong when Bubblebeam's ears started to lower, but they halted half-way down. The unknown darkness that wanted to filter into her expression was gone nearly the moment her eyes met his. The thrill that spurred Silverhawk forward was maddening. He didn't know what to do with Bubblebeam when she looked at him like that. He wanted to chase her like prey; he wanted to eat her whole. He would never be bothered by the confusing, electric sight of her again if he did. She could never walk away from him, either. Horrifyingly, Silverhawk grew more and more pleased by the thought of her at his side.

His dark eyes swept over her once, twice. How many times did he stop just to take her in? What did it matter? Wanting to keep that smile on her face, Silverhawk brought his gaze up to meet Bubblebeam's again. He couldn't stand to look away for too long, anyway. Couldn't stand to look away, couldn't stand to stay away, couldn't stand to behave himself. He was a fool for prancing on their border and giving single, kittish purrs as reward for her praise. But how many times had he tried to tell himself that already? And how many times did Bubblebeam draw him back with her silent insistence on capturing his attention utterly? Silverhawk was powerless to shake this mode of possession. He no longer wanted to; not when they were close enough to trade breath again; not when he could wander in what soft green wasn't taken over by Bubblebeam's blown pupils.

Of course, he was close enough to hear the breath bob in her throat. It was piteously adorable. Silverhawk almost wanted to tell her how terrible he was, right then, ruin their apposition; tell Bubblebeam he couldn't really mean it if he ever did say mine again because someone else occupied the title already-- but couldn't he? What was stopping him? He was allowed to have fun and enjoy himself with Bubblebeam, even if it was a line too far. And, rakingly, Hawkmist didn't technically belong to him anyway. He did and they both acted like it but- but. He didn't.

But Bubblebeam... infuriating, glowing Bubblebeam...

Silverhawk exhaled, "Mine it is, then," on a whispery chuckle that stirred her fur in return. He could feel his heart fall out of time, thudding erratically against the claws of his ribs. While he spoke, Silverhawk broached that final step to place his paws across the border. He was so cruel, he told himself woefully while he wound his chin around the base of Bubblebeam's neck. But she was so warm, and her fur was soft where it brushed into his own. Another low purr rumbled through Silverhawk's throat again, vibrating almost uncomfortably from the pressure on it. "And you don't mind if I get closer, right?"

profile | playlist | discord: downfive | timezone: est | code (c) kieer

Silverhawk
T3 Warrior | ShadowClan | he/him

Bubblebeam's exclamation of surprise earned a laugh, one that stirred deep and warm through the neck fur in which Silverhawk found himself buried. He could feel Bubblebeam's body weaken against him, held aloft only by mysterious force and his own weight. She was shaking, too. There was an awful part of Silverhawk that wanted every shiver to be one of fear; of revelation; of finally catching onto the kind of cat he was. He was terrible--really, truly terrible--and he'd gotten Bubblebeam caught in his torrent. But he didn't care. She was his. Bubblebeam's name now belonged in his mouth alone. He didn't care if she understood the web she now stood in. Silverhawk tried, terribly, not to care about whether the web existed at all; if his ideas of personal wretchedness weren't as fantastical as his ideas of grandiosity.

Silverhawk closed his eyes and pressed his muzzle further into her soft fur. Mine. Mine. Mine. What did anything else matter right now? Nothing did. He just had to focus on the heady, buzzy feeling clouding his head. That was all. All mine. The bones of his jaw itched. From this position, it would be easy to lean back just slightly, let his maw fall open and fasten his teeth around the back of her neck. He wanted to know if Bubblebeam's blood tasted the same as his own; the same as Hawkmist's. If she would run from him then, or if she would find intrigue in the pain where before she'd only seen it as a source of fear.

Silverhawk refrained, despite the pleading of his teeth. That could wait- it could wait. Everything could wait. Silverhawk would make the world wait, just to give him a few more moments of this before he inevitably ruined it. He wanted to enjoy this closeness, this warmth, for just a little longer. It was hard to tell how much of the heat in his fur was pumping out of Silverhawk's own stomach and how much burned in from their multiple points of contact. It was dizzying--hot in his chest, uncomfortable around his heart; hot under his skin, hot and stuffy in his head. Hot, hot, hot; everywhere about him. The resident chill of leaf-bare meant nothing now.

Bubblebeam shifted against him, and he worried for a moment that she might be pulling away. But quickly, she proved to do the opposite: Bubblebeam's neck curled around his, completing the embrace, and her purrs rumbled deep into his spine. Silverhawk pressed his claws into the leaf- and needle-litter just to keep himself upright. This contact was exhilarating. SIlverhawk searched his memories, wondering when--or if--he'd last been held like this. Pineblossom tried to hold him often after Honeylight's death, but he was resistant to it; it wasn't the same, anyway. The next nearest neighbor came as his fights with Hawkmist; rolling in the mud, close enough to trade skins, but that was different too. Close, though. This... this was something else entirely. The kind of coddling reserved for mates or the otherwise exceptionally close.

The revelation awoke a sense of desperation in him. Silverhawk's stomach churned like he was starving and the gut intended to eat itself. How long had he wanted this--this simplicity of touch? Affection? He wanted to gag, disgusted with himself for such base, pathetic wants, but oh... Oh, how ravenously he wanted now. Silverhawk moved impossibly closer into the embrace, pressing the entirety of his weight into Bubblebeam. They couldn't proceed like this, he knew. For all her foolishness, he was sure Bubblebeam knew too. But off she went, purring and sighing like she could love him.

Silverhawk's eyes squeezed shut a little tighter. He wasn't going to tell her not to. He would greedily drink in every ounce of affection, every ounce of this, Bubblebeam saw fit to give him. Even if he had to trek through the Deep Marshes just to bury the SkyClan reek surely clinging to his pelt--even if that had to become part of his routine. Silverhawk was a selfish animal besides, but starving bellies never acted with sense. "Mine suits you well," Silverhawk whispered, his exhale shaky, too. "Stay like this with me, Bubblebeam. We've got time. ...and I don't like letting go of what's mine."

profile | playlist | discord: downfive  | timezone: est | code (c) kieer