Amantium irae amoris integratio est. [Lovers' quarrels are the renewal of love.]

"-Haah....Ha....You're good with that sword. 亲爱的. You win, for now." Ragged breaths, sweat and blood dripped down his skin, glassy sheen like shimmering pearls. Zhi-Rui could feel the cold touch of steel by his throat. A single breath wrong and he'd find his blood spilt. It felt like a kiss. What a sight he must be, pinned beneath the one he called enemy, vulnerable in a way no enemies should be. By all means, that was all they were; though that simple title seemed weak in face of what they truly were. Enemies, yes. Lovers....Well. He well knew in the morning that that kiss of steel would cut far further then it had today, and as too would his. Yet wasn't it a kind of love to declare undying desire to be the only one to kill each other?

Eyes like crescents, blinking through half-lidded gazes. Serene and sweet was his smile, flowers blooming over war-torn fields. It was instinct over choice that led his hands to caress the sword held to him, gently guiding it away from his neck, straight over to his heart. His fingers inadvertently cut themselves over the edge, but the pain bleeds away with the blood as he watches their eyes rake him down, lingering. And in their eyes he sees the same burning obsession that lived in his.

One could not have such fervour in their attempts to kill one another with such emotion and devotion to not be a little obsessed with each other. Zhi-Rui knew this could only end badly, their unresolved history and never-ending conflict not of their own would only lead to problems down the line. They were on opposite sides of a war that wasn't ending anytime soon, and they put no effort in attempting to avoid each other in those fights, always aiming to kill. It just made the thrill bruise harder on days like this, their touch a permanent mark on his skin, as were his on theirs. He had no qualm in calling them his.

"Plan on just staring, or are you going to hurry up and kiss me? I'm waiting."