WHO: Athessa, Madi, Lucien, Skull, and YOU!! WHAT: catch-all WHEN: mostly Satinalia and later WHERE: Kirkwall and The Gallows NOTES: post-murderhaus h/c is gonna go here
That doesn't sound quite right. His self-consciousness fades as he turns it over in his mind a few times, and leans back again for a look at her. He lifts a hand to her face, thumb gently tracing her jaw to coax her attention up and onto him.
"How do you mean?" Is that some romantic metaphor? He could read it that way, he supposes, but it doesn't sit right.
Athessa inclines her head, keeping her gaze averted until the very last second when it's impossible not to look into his eyes.
How does she explain? What words can she muster that will tell him her fears without admitting to something she can't take back? The answer is, quite simply: there aren't any words that don't expose a vital weakness, one that she doesn't know how to accept.
"I—" She swallows thickly, unable or unwilling on some baser level to say the only thing she can say to explain herself. She can't even tell him it's nothing. It's not nothing.
So she captures his mouth in a kiss. She closes her eyes against scrutiny and emotion and snakes her good arm around his neck, body pressing against his. If she gives herself over, if she distracts him from pursuing an explanation, maybe she can buy more time to work it out on her own before trying to tell him.
There's a fear in her eyes that Vanadi doesn't at all like; is this something he's done wrong, or something else? He's still mentally reviewing, darting with a frantic uncertainty from recent memory to recent memory.
This kiss, though, works as intended. It snares Vanadi's whole attention, mind at least temporarily jumping the track. He welcomes the kiss with warm enthusiasm, one arm going snug around her waist as the other brushes through hair at the back of her head.
He's left blinking in the wake of it, and far too conscious of the warm skin pressed against his. Had he been about to say something? It's gone now.
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no subject
"How do you mean?" Is that some romantic metaphor? He could read it that way, he supposes, but it doesn't sit right.
no subject
How does she explain? What words can she muster that will tell him her fears without admitting to something she can't take back? The answer is, quite simply: there aren't any words that don't expose a vital weakness, one that she doesn't know how to accept.
"I—" She swallows thickly, unable or unwilling on some baser level to say the only thing she can say to explain herself. She can't even tell him it's nothing. It's not nothing.
So she captures his mouth in a kiss. She closes her eyes against scrutiny and emotion and snakes her good arm around his neck, body pressing against his. If she gives herself over, if she distracts him from pursuing an explanation, maybe she can buy more time to work it out on her own before trying to tell him.
no subject
This kiss, though, works as intended. It snares Vanadi's whole attention, mind at least temporarily jumping the track. He welcomes the kiss with warm enthusiasm, one arm going snug around her waist as the other brushes through hair at the back of her head.
He's left blinking in the wake of it, and far too conscious of the warm skin pressed against his. Had he been about to say something? It's gone now.
no subject
"Let's go to bed."