[AoS] A Glimmer of Hope (Koga)

Gina was growing weary when the pig trotted by. Its steps were load and careless, not the sound a hunters’ footfalls would make, but it still made Gina look down. Little Miss Piggy seemed contented as she trotted under the tree, and Gina grinned a bit wryly. Darn pig, fooling her like that. What a silly, stupid pig. Gina flopped onto the branch, assuming full-sloth mode. Gina let her gaze linger absently on the ground below, her thoughts wandering. Too bad she didn’t know how to candy ham. Candied ham sounded so delicious, right then.

A second flicker of motion made Gina blink, her eyes registering the fact that the ground seemed to be rippling down below in a most unnatural fashion. While from the ground the camouflage would have been seamless, from above, Gina could discern a humanoid form, however forest-colored. The gargoyle stifled a gasp, and began to descend the tree. Weeks of waiting and finally, a lead. A boy who could camouflage himself. But was it her boy? Gina paused, after clambering down a good ten feet of tree, pausing to listen. There didn’t seem to be others. Just him. Gina clambered the rest of the way down the tree, before leaping the final fifteen to twenty feet to the ground. She landed quietly.

“Koga?” she whispered, her voice raised but quiet—a stage whisper. No reply. The gargoyle girl trotted in the direction that Koga had gone, but as she grew hot on his trail, there was a low thud, followed by an unnatural shriek. This sent all kinds of warning bells off, to the gargoyle, who quickly scurried and hid in alarm. Had someone been with her, they might have derided her for her foolishness—her lead had told her that they’d seen a guy who looked like Koga hunting in the forest.

Obviously hunting involved killing animals, and humans weren’t the only creatures that could shriek. Gina still hid, though, eyes wide. Whoever it was had obviously just stabbed something, or someone, and it was screaming an awful lot. There was another thud, and the shrieks ceased. Moments later, and a steady shuffling went past. Gina didn’t dare move.

What if it wasn’t Koga but a Koga lookalike? And they’d just killed a person? It would be very foolish of Gina to show herself now. What would be the wiser would be to run right back to the town at that very moment, before they even noticed she was there.

But wait—why else would she have come here day-in and day-out, but to see if this guy really was him? And now that she was here, she was just going to make a break for it? That was a really stupid idea. Gina slinked out from behind the tree, following the same path that she’d followed up the hill, back down the hill.

She was so wrapped in her thoughts, that she didn’t notice the new welcoming committee that had come to pause at the base of her tree—what would she do if it wasn’t Koga? What would she say if it was. She looked up as she drew closer to the tree, spotting the pig in her periphery. She had a one-track mind and, yes, for moment, admittedly believed it to be Koga (though when had he adopted pink as a color?). There was a moment of blank staring, but then her eyes connected to her brain, and Gina realized that a dead pig was propped-up against her tree.

The gargoyle recoiled and let out a sharp yell, probably giving-away her position to anyone near by!

“Ko- Oh!" Gina gasped shock (and momentary terror), stumbling back, “Oh god, dead pig!”

Sure, years of serving as a deputy and surviving the apocalypse had somewhat desensitized the gargoyle to death, but the sight of a dead pig chilling against a tree was enough to make any unsuspecting soul to shriek in alarm.

Gina felt like she was standing still as the man came into view. And as soon as he came into view, she knew that her hunch hadn’t been long, for his eyes… oh, those were Kogas’ eyes. Time had hardened his face, taken away the residual, adolescent pudge, and he was so slender, but it was still Koga. Gina’s face lit-up. He was practically lunging towards, catching her wrist and pulling her in tightly.

“Koga,” Gina gasped, answering back with a hug of her own. The reptilian boy’s greeting was so excited that the two of them were sent ground-wards, but he twisted, sparing Gina from catching the brunt of the fall. As soon as the two had settled, Koga began shouting his joyful inquiries and observations, and Gina just beamed. He was there, he hadn’t changed much, and boy had she missed him. Her hands touched his face, his neck, ran through his hair, lingered on his chest. Gina touched him as though she thought that, at any moment she’d wake up. Any second now, and Koga would disappear, and it would just be another cruel trick of wishful thinking. Her knuckles brushed his cheek. He wasn’t vanishing.

“My god, you’re really here,” Gina breathed. Her smile grew broad, “I’ve been in the town, Koga. The town in Central Park. I thought you were dead.”

She couldn’t get enough of him—a single touch was not enough, a single glance would not suffice. After everyone she’d lost, after everyone who’d changed… Koga was still Koga. Gina couldn’t say his name enough times, and if she kissed him… oh, if they kissed, Gina feared she would be trapped there for hours. She'd be perfectly content to rest against his chest for that extent of time, too. It had, after all, been three years.

Koga bluntly asked if she was single, and Gina laughed. They were kissing before she even had the opportunity to answer. They kissed shamelessly, as if two dehydrated folk in the desert, on the brink of death, finally given water. Gina smiled into the kiss, so unfathomably happy, she couldn’t help it. She was just so relieved. Her fingers twined themselves into his hair, cushioning his head against the unyielding forest floor.

When the kiss broke, Gina's look was tender-- the years had made her more trim, too, but she hadn't grown an inch. And though her expressions, a good deal toughened by all that she'd seen and experienced, her eyes were still the same. They were so tender, as they looked upon her reptilian man.

“I am so single,” her voice a mere murmur, rippling with warmth while her eyes searched his familiar face, “Where've you been? I’ve missed you so much… I thought you were dead.”

Gina leaned in for another, brief kiss, just to be sure that Koga was still there. It just felt so surreal, yet he was still there. Hadn't vanished in the blink of an eye.

“You’ve got no idea what a sight for sore eyes you are,” the gargoyle chuckled. One taloned hand returned to his hair, brushing it back from his face, “Pray, you haven’t found someone else, have you?”

Gina was contented to let the conversation drift into the more nonverbal area, relishing the exchange of kisses. When he finally registered that Gina had been in the town, Gina nodded.

“This whole time,” she grinned. The job was a perfect fit—she got to protect people, keep the peace. Try and make changes for the better, and as a job. The peppered kisses and wandering hands made it impossible for Gina to focus, but she somehow managed to, through the small smirks and, exchanged kisses and equally-daring hands.

A laugh bubbled up in Gina as Koga declared that, had there been another man, he’d have been taking the best thing in that boy’s life from him. Gina pitied the imaginary man, for Gina would have no reservations about being taken back by Koga. She would go back to him in a heartbeat. Yet, as his smile faltered, Gina’s own smile grew hesitant. She inclined her head, her eyebrows stitching. There was another kiss, to which Gina responded tentatively. Like that, the light, fizzling atmosphere had taken a serious dip.

“What is it?” the gargoyle hummed.

>> “I’ve been working… I’ve thought of you every ssingle day. Mosst of the time all day.”

That was vague enough to pique the gargoyle’s curiosity. There was a gentle reassurance and a tight hug, and Gina was grateful for the fact that Koga, too, was available still. There would be heartbreaking, if a hypothetical girl were in Kogas’ life. But, after the murmured reassurances and confessions of staying true, Gina could feel the conversation boiling down to the meat of what Koga was getting at. She leaned back slightly, gaze meandering over his face.

“But…?” she urged.

That was when the reptilian boy began to unload. Gina was silent, while he spoke, but thoughts rampaged relentlessly through her mind. How could he have lots of women life, but found nobody--? A string of noncommittal romantic encounters…? No, Koga was better than that. Women that kept the town on its toes… no…

Koga was working for the Amazons? Gina swallowed the urge to sputter an incredulous, “Why?!” He was getting to that point.

There were ladies that he cared for, there—a girl (and a very intelligent one, at that) was destroying the Amazons from the inside—Katrina (that Katrina, the one that Koga had been enamored with before Gina?) was sneaking supplies to someone named Slate—and then there was Dahlia, who seemed to just be… getting protected by him. There were all these things Koga was doing to protect people from the Amazons, to protect the girls that really shouldn’t have been there in the first place.

Gina was doing her best to smile—for Kogas’ eyes cleaved onto her face, and were not letting go—but there was something sorrowful coloring her expression now. She knew where the conversation was turning, and she didn’t like it in the least. The gargoyle woman gave a sad chuckle.

“You’ve always been a chivalrous heart,” Gina commented. Her hand migrated from his waist, to his cheek once more, a gesture of reassurance, “And I’d be a hypocrite to ask you to leave—I’ve been acting as a deputy for the town, doing just the same as you… protecting those I care about, keeping things civil…”

And missing him. Sooo… much. Couldn’t she have this instance of selfishness? Just this once? No wrong could be done in the world, if she and Koga were together. It gave her hope. Gina’s throat tightened at the thought of having to leave him again, and the pressure that arose in her eyes was the one that usually preceded crying. She’d just found him, and just like that, they’d be separated again. It was a painful notion.

“I just… wish I could be a hypocrite,” Gina chuckled, “I wish… I could be that selfish, and just say, ‘To hell with those girls, he’s mine. He’s coming with me’.”

She kissed Koga again, another chuckle bubbling up within her. The laugh helped hold-back the opposing, more likely reaction. Her reaction was to cry and plead him come with, but for each of their sakes, she couldn’t. Koga had commitments, and so did Gina, and neither of them could abandon them.

The young woman settled for kissing Koga again, lightly, on his lips, along his jaw, along his throat. When would they see each other again? Or would they ever? The apocalypse was funny and ambiguous like that. Either way, Gina’s intent was to commit everything about Koga to memory, and to cherish this moment that she’d been given. She just… couldn’t look him in the eyes. She was going to crumble if she looked Koga in the eyes and told him not to come wither.

“As much as it kills me, I can’t,” Gina murmured, somewhere amidst the displays of affection.

She paused, tilting a wistful brown-eyed gaze back towards Koga’s face, “Just promise me we’ll see each other again. As often as time permits.”

Her resolve to tell Koga to return to his duty towards the Amazons was quickly crumbling, the stitch returning to her bow and her eyes tilting away from Koga. She was adjusting her weight, readying herself to get up. Crying wasn’t exactly the best tactic, when trying to convince a guy to do the opposite of what you wanted.

He wasn’t going to let Gina go that easily—as the gargoyle woman attempted to wriggle free, Koga’s hold on her tightened. His arms constricted, his fingers clung to her sides. Gina, consequently, was pressed closer.

“Koga,” she groaned, the pain raw in her tone as she looked back towards him. It wasn’t that his hold hurt physically, nor did Gina mind the proximity—it was just that keeping things bottled-in or private had become habitual over the past few years, and Koga wasn’t going to let her go—he wouldn’t let her look away, or avert her eyes for fear of him seeing how torn they looked. She would have to face him, fully and completely, with the blatant uncertainty in her gaze—the wistful longing mixed with the delight of relocating him splayed across her features.

As Koga began to speak, the petite gargoyle relaxed against him. Her arms were casually folded beneath her chin, and resting upon his chest. It wasn’t an easy task, to pay attention to what Koga was saying, but his words were something of a relief. He could leave for days at a time, while hunting. They would see each other—frequently enough to make Gina sick of him. This earned a quirked smile and a faint chuckle.

“I could neve-“ Gina began to protest. She was about to say, I could never get sick of you, but her retort was cut-short by a soft kiss. Gina readjusted, shifting closer once again—sure, she was free to move, but the reptilian man wasn’t going to let her go any time soon.

Gina kissed him back, just as gentle, yet slightly more insistent. Her fingers combed into Koga’s hair as she propped herself up on her arms. Her tail curled absently, casually, around his leg—Koga wouldn’t let her walk away minutes after finding him, and as the tail seemed to imply, the feeling was reciprocated.

“You’ll have to visit me a lot,” Gina murmured in-between kisses, her voice adopting a humor to it, “I don’t think it’s humanly possible for me to get sick of you, darling. Besides which, we’ve got three years to make-up for.”

Gina blushed at her own boldness, embarrassed by her own words. Absence made the heart fonder, this was true, but apparently it made the spirit more audacious as well.

It was hard not to get into the heat of the moment. Koga was getting excited, and Gina would be a liar to say that she wasn’t. Her mind didn’t wander down the paths of more intimate shows of affection, or potential repercussions thereof. She only focused on the moment, and focused on Koga. His hands boldly meandered and his kisses grew feverish. How could she think of anything besides him, or anything beyond him?

Gina sank against Koga, chuckling in spite of herself as she, too, was consumed by the passionate show. She melted at his daring touches, and answered his kisses with impassioned kisses of her own. They lay there and kissed with the forest as their witness, occasionally shifting, but saying very little—they didn’t cross that unmentioned boundary, though Gina’s tail made certain to tease Koga by fussing with his leg. Gina used one arm to prop herself up, letting that corresponding hand comb through Koga’s hair, and stroke his face. Her other hand, all the while, took on more adventurous endeavors. It traced along his stomach and his sides, innocently yet brazenly all at once.

Gina paused, breaking the kiss to crack a grin at Koga.

“Did I happen to mention how much I missed you?” Gina inquired coyly. She lifted her gaze brown eyes searching the tree canopies for a sense of which direction the sun was coming from—eventually, she’d have to head back to camp. She’d set-up her lookout and, when she’d spotted Koga, she’d determined that it was nearly two hours until dusk, which was when Gina’s shift began back at the Town. She had plenty of time. And if not, what was the worst that they’d do? Fire her?

Gina smiled at the hand that ventured along her back, her cheeks adopting a deep blush. Koga countered what she said with his own quip, and this earned a faint smile from Gina, which grew into an open, tender expression. It was a sad confession, yet it was also sweet—flattering and heartbreaking all at once. Gina touched his chest lightly, where he’d tapped his finger, and she sighed.

“I’m sorry,” she breathed, “Koga, I’m so sorry. I would have bulldozed mountains if meant finding you sooner. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

She kissed him again. Not enough kissing could be done—it wouldn’t suffice, it wouldn’t hold her over. It had been years since Gina had opened herself up like this, and she didn’t want to leave for fear that she’d close herself off again. Go back to being the cool, emotionless protector. Koga uttered an inquiry, his hold on the gargoyle constricting slightly, and Gina shook her head.

“I’ve got a few hours before I need to leave,” she assured him, resting her head on her hands as she lay against Koga, smiling. He didn’t seem keen on letting her go, and Gina didn’t seem inclined to go anywhere. It was a fair exchange. Koga anxiously informed her that he could come back soon, as soon as tomorrow, to hunt again.

Gina grinned, but the words that left her mouth pained her, “Don’t deviate from your usual hunting schedule,-” they were the words of someone who’d been in enough fights to know a thing or two. Perhaps Markus was rubbing off on her. The old, blindly happy Gina collided with the post-apocalyptic, overprotective one in a messy head-on collision. The gargoyles’ brows stitched in sad realization, a flicker of fear crossing her features. The apocalypse had taught her to fear the Amazons, even if in their faces, she betrayed none of it.

“What if they found out about us?” Gina murmured, “They’d do something horrible to you.”

Gina’s gaze had dropped from Koga’s bashfully, focusing instead on her hand, which absently traced along his shoulder and collarbone. She frowned.

“I couldn’t live with myself, if something happened to you because you were trying to come see me.”

Gina could get reprimanded for showing up late, and if word of Koga got out to her peers, the gargoyle doubted she'd get into trouble for it... if Koga were caught by the Amazons, his punishment seemed unthinkable.