His angry curse to the air made Porphyria pause for a moment, looking up despite herself, her quill left blotting ink onto the page; it sounded as though he'd finally reached the end of his tether. Whatever smugness she felt at having been infuriating enough to destabilise his infuriating composure, it evaporated in an instant as he - entirely unexpectedly - closed the distance between them. Her eyes had begun to widen as she realised what he was doing, too late, and any protest she had planned to make floated out of grasp in her stupefaction. The kiss was an unfamiliar sensation to her, and the worst of it was that - in spite of all her dread and resistance of it - her eyes fluttered shut of their own accord, some appalling instinct ingrained in her.
Her eyes opened again when the pressure of his mouth on hers had lifted, but he was still right there in front of her, and that only incensed her further, never mind his quip about success. "Enjoy your success," she spat, making up for her earlier lack of action by not holding back now, and rammed the quill she had clenched in her fist up into the side of his neck, nib-first. It faintly occurred to her that a quill was potentially not the most effective weapon for stabbing people with, but it seemed like a good way to get her anger out, in the moment.
To test whether or not the kiss had freed her feet from the mistletoe at last, Porphyria pulled her leg up from where it had been stuck and, with as much force as she could muster, attempted to knee him in the groin. She didn't know if it would match the anguish he had caused her by kissing her against her will. But it might, at least, make her feel better.
Her eyes opened again when the pressure of his mouth on hers had lifted, but he was still right there in front of her, and that only incensed her further, never mind his quip about success. "Enjoy your success," she spat, making up for her earlier lack of action by not holding back now, and rammed the quill she had clenched in her fist up into the side of his neck, nib-first. It faintly occurred to her that a quill was potentially not the most effective weapon for stabbing people with, but it seemed like a good way to get her anger out, in the moment.
To test whether or not the kiss had freed her feet from the mistletoe at last, Porphyria pulled her leg up from where it had been stuck and, with as much force as she could muster, attempted to knee him in the groin. She didn't know if it would match the anguish he had caused her by kissing her against her will. But it might, at least, make her feel better.
a sublime set by Lady! <3