Interlude: Arcobaleno I

Interlude: Arcobaleno

Dimtr stops writing for the fifth time in the same hour, fingers fluttering above his chest. He sighs, closing his eyes as he tries to bring out the calm that invaded him at that moment under Ozora's weight. It comes, slower than he may have wanted but it does. It's slightly annoying how dependent he's become on it when less than a day has just passed, but he can't help it, it's almost better than being on drugs as he admitted to Ozora. 'Almost' because while the silence he can achieve is nearly the same, there's not that spike of mental prowess he usually feels.

With Ozora's flames, everything is just slow and quiet.

"It's still nice," he murmurs to no one. Too nice, actually. And bothersome. Which is another matter he now has to deal with: lust. It is nothing he has experienced before and while it's been pleasant at the beginning when it was new and something he could wonder about. Now, however? It's plain annoying, that's what it is. He can't even close his eyes without his mind wandering to Ozora's whereabouts and his wellbeing.

And if he thinks about it too deep, as he's done for scientific reasons, he can feel the warmth of his body on top of his, how his arm curled perfectly around his back, tugging the ends of his hair as he pulled him closer until their lips met and moved against each other, warm and wet. He's kissed before, mostly to gather information about it, but it's never felt like that before. As if his control was slipping in a beautiful and amazing way. With silence in his mind, his only focus being the body against his, the pressure of his weight being grounding and demanding at the same time.

A shiver runs across his body and he stops thinking about lips and a lovely neck he wants to bite; he doesn't want his thoughts from going there again.

In one part it finally let him experience masturbation.

In another, well… it's not as amazing as he was led up to believe. It's actually kind of irritating after a while, with its repetitive movements and awkward fluids. He's pretty sure sex won't be better, but he's at least curious enough to want to know if Ozora being added to the equation will change anything.

Anyhow, he thinks as he closes his notebook dedicated to harmonization, placing the pen he's using on top of it. He still needs to go back to work and make more designs weapons if he wants to enter the mafia underworld. His hobby and passion must wait.

He stands up and walks to the office where he keeps his blueprints, one hand going to his chin to scratch the faint stubble on it, briefly wondering if Ozora may prefer kissing him without it.

"There are better ways to enter that world, you know?"

Dimtr blinks in surprise, head-turning to where the sound came from. There he sees a man leaning against his wall, about three centimeters taller than him, posture indicating honesty and made to inspire trust. His face is covered with a mask, hair clearly false, but also too real to be a wig. The clothes, like the hair, are too false to be real but too be real to be completely false. It throws him out of a loop. Everything about the man is all wrong, not real.

A mist, a pretty good one to make him doubt if he's correct. But he's also too perfect to be anything else.

"And what does a Mist cares about me?" he answers immediately after.

He doesn't ask how it's possible he knows about his desires. This Mist has probably been observing him for some time, hidden. Strange as he's just been recognized.

The man in the iron-colored hat claps. "Bravo. As one would expect from someone claimed to be the Second Davinci."

"Yes, yes. Enough with the flattering. What are you doing here?"

He probably shouldn't be as antagonistic, but he can't help it. Someone has intruded in his space. His office. The one only he is allowed to be in.

"I've got a proposal to give. A way to give you an in, a way for you to study the most powerful flames. A social experiment, some would think, but it's more," he says, playing with a pacifier that has appeared on his hand. "I'm offering you the chance to work with other six people, to form the strongest seven of an era, the Prescelti Sette."

Then a card is between his fingers. It's an invitation to a party, the same Ozora is been invited.

Hypothesis and theories go through his mind, wondering what the man must be up to. Then he explains about flames and the arcobaleno, I Prescelti Sette, and Dimtr is once again curious, even if he knows everything points to a trap.

He wonders how Ozora will look in a suit. He wants to see him wearing one.

He accepts the pacifier.