Work Text:
Jade’s hands move on your skin like fins to water.
His webbed fingers slide across your upper arms and come to rest on your shoulders as naturally and as gently as if they were on their natural, fluid habitat.
You wonder if your body is as malleable as water to him.
And perhaps the realization should warrant you a sudden awareness of the danger he poses and the risk under which you’ve put yourself. His hands rest firm on your shoulders, pinpricks of pain sparking from where his claws briefly meet your skin. He looks like a vision from another world, fireworks scattered across his skin with a gentle, ever-present glow. You know how bioluminescence works in the deep, and can’t help but wonder what he would look like were he to glow red.
A watery, deadly flame at the frigid depths of the ocean.
You concentrate on the feeling of his touch. Would you be able to struggle—to even scream—if he dragged you down right now? His hands would slide down your torso carefully, then grip your legs.
(He would make a point to drag you down in a way most cliché, of course, because you’ve watched those types of movies together.)
He would make sure you understand he is playing with his food, feel the uncertainty and subsequent terror of his actions. He would look into your eyes the whole time and make sure you cannot look away; that your last moments are solely his. Were you not solidly stuck between his very sharp claws, perhaps the notion would have had you swimming to safety, an excuse about feeling unwell at the tip of your tongue. He would give you an open-mouthed smile, sharp teeth in full display as his eyebrows scrunch up in faux pity. He would let you go, saying something about meeting the in-laws next time.
At this point, you know that the environment hardly makes a difference.
But as your mind goes back to the image of a glowing, fiery-red that screams of danger—
You can’t deny that you would gladly be the moth to his flame.