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This was a lardokent fic snippet I wrote to go along with the edit, because I like to caption my edits with scraps of the fic I would write around them. Enjoy!
She knew this when she found new brushes on the table when she stumbled downstairs late in the morning, and breakfast left in the microwave. She knew it because Kent stayed perfectly still for hours as Lardo tried to capture her, and when Kent didn’t complain about not being able to see the end result until Lardo was ready. She knew it because when Kent cried in the bathroom she let Lardo see her red eyes, and if Kent was contemptuous of vulnerability in others, she was even more contemptuous of it in herself, but she still knew that Lardo valued it, and so she allowed it.
Even on bad days when Kent was shaking with the weight of carrying herself, she cooked for Lardo. And if Lardo asked, Kent would let Lardo caress every inch of her body, no matter how much it terrified her. But Lardo didn’t ask. She wasn’t here to tear Kent apart―too many before her had done that already. Lardo was here to love Kent, to sink her teeth in Kent’s fire and hold it in her throat like honey. And she knew exactly how to do it.
This was a lardokent fic snippet I wrote to go along with the edit, because I like to caption my edits with scraps of the fic I would write around them. Enjoy!
Kent looked soft, but it was all surface. Inside, she was hard like amber and gold, cold and cruel and brilliant. Had Lardo been someone else, she would have tried to pry apart the ice, trek through the desert to find the real Kent Parson. But there was no such thing. This was real, the Kent in front of her was real, this was it. And Lardo loved Kent so, so much. She loved all the hard edges and occasional brutality, the way her hurt ran so deep she’d managed to forget about it.
And Kent loved her back.
She knew this when she found new brushes on the table when she stumbled downstairs late in the morning, and breakfast left in the microwave. She knew it because Kent stayed perfectly still for hours as Lardo tried to capture her, and when Kent didn’t complain about not being able to see the end result until Lardo was ready. She knew it because when Kent cried in the bathroom she let Lardo see her red eyes, and if Kent was contemptuous of vulnerability in others, she was even more contemptuous of it in herself, but she still knew that Lardo valued it, and so she allowed it.
Even on bad days when Kent was shaking with the weight of carrying herself, she cooked for Lardo. And if Lardo asked, Kent would let Lardo caress every inch of her body, no matter how much it terrified her. But Lardo didn’t ask. She wasn’t here to tear Kent apart―too many before her had done that already. Lardo was here to love Kent, to sink her teeth in Kent’s fire and hold it in her throat like honey. And she knew exactly how to do it.
