Mari's only response to that is to run her thumb over Dia's lips, humming softly. Dia's stubborn, a fact that she knows all too well, almost as stubborn as she is; they're deadlocked, for the moment. Of course, Mari reasons, she can easily turn this into a battle of attrition. If it means staring at Dia's flushed face all night (she looks delicious, she thinks to herself, just about ready to burst--), she's willing to stare forever until she cracks. It won't be that long, she knows, but...
She gave herself a timer, here. And she has just a few more seconds left on the clock. As much as she loves driving Dia crazy, she's determined not to lose, either. That meager attempt at resistance has simply got to go, and it's got to go now; for no reason other than the fact that she knows for a fact that the kiss Dia's about to lay on her lips is going to be more intense than she could even dream of, and the taste of victory alongside that long-awaited liplock is going to make it even sweeter. When the countdown is this close, it's anyone's game; but when all's said and done, this is Mari Ohara, and when she really wants something, she always plays to win.
8, 7, 6. Like a shark moving in on its prey in the water, she inches closer, still. It's a familiar situation; no matter how long these seconds of silence may feel like as they stretch on and on (to Dia, she imagines, these past 120 seconds must have felt like a small eternity), in actuality, Mari made this same exact move only a minute ago, just before she faked Dia out. But this time instead of darting away, in one calculated motion, she takes Dia's bottom lip right into her mouth, gently tugging at it with her teeth before she releases it with a soft, wet pop, and a deep breath.
Three seconds left, and all Mari does is stare up at Dia with half-lidded golden eyes and a devious smirk that's fixed in place on her lips. Come on, it's saying. You know you want to.
no subject
Mari's only response to that is to run her thumb over Dia's lips, humming softly. Dia's stubborn, a fact that she knows all too well, almost as stubborn as she is; they're deadlocked, for the moment. Of course, Mari reasons, she can easily turn this into a battle of attrition. If it means staring at Dia's flushed face all night (she looks delicious, she thinks to herself, just about ready to burst--), she's willing to stare forever until she cracks. It won't be that long, she knows, but...
She gave herself a timer, here. And she has just a few more seconds left on the clock. As much as she loves driving Dia crazy, she's determined not to lose, either. That meager attempt at resistance has simply got to go, and it's got to go now; for no reason other than the fact that she knows for a fact that the kiss Dia's about to lay on her lips is going to be more intense than she could even dream of, and the taste of victory alongside that long-awaited liplock is going to make it even sweeter. When the countdown is this close, it's anyone's game; but when all's said and done, this is Mari Ohara, and when she really wants something, she always plays to win.
8, 7, 6. Like a shark moving in on its prey in the water, she inches closer, still. It's a familiar situation; no matter how long these seconds of silence may feel like as they stretch on and on (to Dia, she imagines, these past 120 seconds must have felt like a small eternity), in actuality, Mari made this same exact move only a minute ago, just before she faked Dia out. But this time instead of darting away, in one calculated motion, she takes Dia's bottom lip right into her mouth, gently tugging at it with her teeth before she releases it with a soft, wet pop, and a deep breath.
Three seconds left, and all Mari does is stare up at Dia with half-lidded golden eyes and a devious smirk that's fixed in place on her lips. Come on, it's saying. You know you want to.