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There was something very familiar in the way those ghostly wisps moved to coil around his limbs, but that was as far as he allowed the thought to go. She was trying to trap him, as surely as he trapped her, but he had to wonder if those tendrils carried the same strength the boil had in his arms. He had been a burly brute in life, and in death that hadn't changed. It was hard to say if his penchant for athletics did anything at all to his body, but certainly all that running and weight training didn't hurt. So he let those wisps crawl over him, wrapping tightly around arms and body, and did nothing to stop them.

Instead he listened to every venom filled word that she sought to sting him with, but he was beyond that prickling now. It was nothing more then a rant now, and Seiji recalled their last meeting, and what had been said. She could play the heartless b***h all she liked, and pretend nothing touched her, but the boil knew better.

"As I recall," he murmured, voice a deep rumble that rose from his chest. "You ran away, and that's not quite the same." He hummed thoughtfully, the tips of his fingers tapping along her hip. "What was it you had said just before, again?" He paused, a grin splitting his lips, but not like she could see it. "You can't stop thinking of me. That was it, wasn't it?"

She snapped at his ear, and he let go of her wrist to catch her chin instead, moving her face so they were once again looking at each other. His eyes were still rimmed, but where they had been dull before, they blazed now. If Sarias had wanted to start a fire, then she was doing a good job. Her words, every last one, were a challenge to the jikininki. He'd always been a bit of a prideful beast, and he wouldn't allow this ghoul to continue to call him weak or worthless.

She had a point though. "I am a survivor, Sarias. I always bounce back." When she moved that tiny fraction of an inch away his arms tensed, holding her in place.

Ah, that was better.

He watched her face fall, horrified at the memory of their last confrontation and the sensitive nature of what she'd confessed to him. It made his grin all the wider, and he suppressed peel of laughter that threatened t break free. The so strong Sarias, how rare it was to see her caught off guard. This really was making a fine distraction from the events of earlier that day. They'd come crashing back later, but for now he'd take her flounder excuses for her past actions.

"I have a good memory," he reminded her, dark brows arching upward. There was a definite note of satisfaction in those glowing eyes at her admissions. She was attracted to him then, and she was attracted to him now. It was there, in her eyes, the hesitation in her voice, the only half hearted attempts to free herself from his hold.

He did chuckle when she asked if he formed such flippant attachments to things. "It wasn't me who made those confessions last year, and It isn't me mentioning emotions now, Sarias." That was all on her. Her so clever attempts to talk herself out of the corner he'd backed her into. With each excuse and denial she was only digging herself all the deeper.

And there it was, finally some honesty as she jerked against his hold on her, voice raising. He released her chin, moving to place that hand with the other at the small of her back. She could push against him all she liked, but it wouldn't break his grip. He was uniquely solid for a ghost. He may not be able to pass through walls or float, but he was physically strong.

Now that he'd broken through the shield of spite and sarcasm, along with shaking off the crippling effects of heartache, he could see what there was to be seen. Not only did the ghoul have red lined eyes, but her arms were peppered with what he imagined had to be scars. They weren't there last year, and it made him wonder where exactly she'd been all this time, and what exactly had happened to her. Not so much out of tenderness, but curiosity. He card, but it was an unspecific sort. He didn't really like seeing anyone hurt, it was one of the biggest differences between the two of them, but Seiji could admit to himself that the ghoul before him didn't mean the same to him as she had so very long ago. They'd once been friends, now she was a means of distraction. A very attractive means of distraction.

Handsome features closed down into a satisfied smirk as acknowledged the past, but the smile didn't linger. Whatever small pleasure he was getting from making the banshee stumble was short lived, and he didn't really understand why he was taking pleasure from it in the first place. Seiji had never been a cruel boil, not in this unlife, and he wasn't likely to start now. Still, he couldn't deny that seeing her flustered did amuse him, if only momentarily. He met that hatred in her eyes with cold indifference as she raved at him and push at his arms.

He thought about retaining his hold on her for no other reason then that he could, but in the end he let his grip loosen enough so she could drift back a few inches from him, those mismatched hands instead coming to rest on her hips.

Her ranting held merit. All he was doing, he was doing because it helped him forget that only an hour or so ago he'd lost something precious to him. He was trying to do what Junko had done. Shove all his problems and pain aside, focus on anything that provided an adequate distraction. It was hypocritical, but his refusal to deal with his unhappiness wasn't going to be hurting anyone else but himself.

For a while her words at lost the bite to them that they usual held. That she'd held when she'd first found him. Now the sting returned as she reminded him once again of what he'd lost. It made his hands tense at her sides, fingertips digging into her hips just a bit. "If you had run to me, I'd have turned you away." He wasn't entirely certain what was happening now, but he did know that he would have simply cast her aside if she'd fallen into his arms at the first hint of Junko's rejection.

Glowing red surrounded by a pool of blackness. Sarias' eyes mirrored his own, and he met that angry stare, jaw set in stubborn lines. If he let her go, would she walk away as well? Could he handle that? It would do little to add to the dull ache of lose that even now sat like a heavy weight in his chest, but he wasn't entirely sure his pride would fair as well.


He kept his grip, features defiant.

He wasn't so much rejecting her now, as confessing that he would have had she simply fallen upon him the second she got wind of his and Junko's split. Really, that she hadn't, was why they were still talking. It seems though that she'd misunderstood his meaning a little, but really, what did it matter. He met those angry eyes, as she leaned into him. His own defiant though altogether unreadable. He didn't have a clue what he wanted from the ghoul now pressed against him. Not one damn clue, though he was quite unwilling to simply release her.

All those pale curves came to rest so very firmly against his front, and it brought a small grunt from the boil as he stiffened under her touch. The snarl wasn't entirely unexpected, though the kiss caught him by surprise. The way their conversation had been leading, he'd have sooner expected a slap. The shock didn't last though, cool lips parted under the bruising press of her mouth. It was rough, sharp, and ended all too quickly. She pulled away from him, and he growled in protest as she spat her parting words at him before going for the door.

There was no thought, only strong, dark fingers curling around her wrist to jerk her back around to face him. Her words stung, but not enough to erase the feel of that harsh kiss. The boil could be gentle, had been for years, but at his core it it wasn't gentleness that turned his crank.

His grip on that slender wrist was almost bruising as he dragged her back to him, free hand slipping up to tangle in the brilliant blue of her curls. Fingers tightening to hold her head still as he reclaimed those lips and banished all space between them again.

It wasn't a good idea, he knew that, somewhere in the back of his mind, but he didn't care. For just that moment he didn't have to think about everything else that had happened that day. Not about the ghoul that had broken his heart, or the demolished state of his room. It was a selfish thing, hiding behind a physical distraction, but he wanted to be selfish.

And maybe, just maybe, he knew how very much it would bother his now ex if she found out. It was incredibly petty, but he would take that satisfaction.