for I know the songs sung & tales told by the gossiping birds »

• It's as though by never taking no for an answer, Kirk redefines the way his world works, and he pulls with him anyone standing nearby.
• He'd notice — he notices everything — and not let her forget about it.
• He glares at her, but it’s something – a break in his rhythm. She reaches out to his shoulder, pushes. She doesn’t know what she’s doing and mostly thinks she’s going to regret this – soon – when he lashes out at her, but she keeps pushing until he’s fully turned from the punching bag, until he’s pressed against the wall, and his eyes are blue, blue, and bewildered, and so she ignores all the sweat, she ignores the way she can’t be sure if all of that wet is sweat or tears, she ignores the blood on his forehead from the cut he’s reopened, and she kisses him, fierce and with all the anger of this day. He tastes of salt, and it’s not pleasant but she ignores that too.
• This may have something to do with the slim cant of his hips in Starfleet's too-tight black pants, or the way command gold can't hide the smooth line of muscle on his chest or arms, or the way he flashes his grin like a weapon.