[He feels all at once intensely warmed and hollowed out. Joyful that she’d also look forward to an “us” of the future, drowning in happy memories; but also aching, wishing it was now. And regretting that it had to come in the wake of melancholy and old scars of the past.
His voice trembles, as though the words themselves cannot fully represent the multi-layered feeling that is love. Simply, they cannot.]
I’m looking forward to it. [Another feather-light kiss on her shoulder.] And sorry, again.
[ those shoulders hitch once, a brutally restrained hiccup, and then Sprezzatura rolls onto her back. it pains her to look at him when they're both like this, but she does look at him. she wants to see more than she wants to hide. ]
Your voice is shaking.
[ it has to be true. all of it.
she brings her legs up and hugs his hips with her inner thighs. ]
Don't cry.
[ she thinks it would be crying that would do that. even though he hasn't wept since they were children. ]
[His hands go to the sides of her thighs, just a light and smoothing touch. Good to feel her close again, after they had been so entwined and then disconnected just as suddenly. His heart still beats hard in his chest; that much had never stopped, but all for different reasons, now.
His expression is… caught between relief and want and apology and regret and affection, utterly clear that he doesn’t really know how to wear it, rare as it is. He pulls his lips up faintly at the corners.]
I’m not crying. I’m just— [It’s an overwhelm, but one he’s not trying to shove aside.] I don’t know how to say it. I’m just glad I met you.
[ her anger fizzled, she wallows in the ache instead. brings him closer by the nape to kiss up the apples of his cheeks. she loops her tail around him, too, and lets the soft tip brush against his inner thighs. ]
[He tilts down closer to her without needing extra encouragement, eager to remain close and just to revel in the existence of her. A hand on her side, the other pressed into the bed to keep him balanced. Her tail's a hug, too, tickling.
Closes his eyes when she kisses him, exhaling a shaky breath, but he's smiling.]
[He nuzzles in, face buried in the crook of her neck. It’s fine if they don’t continue as they did, but he doesn’t want to leave her side anytime soon.]
Good. [A small attempt at levity:] From now on, you’re only ever a good girl.
[ even don't take that as coddling. don't take that as coddling. don't. do not.
mumbles something; not words, just voice. he's constantly fumbling through the mire trying to find the right thing to say, and she knows that she does not make it simple for him. lists her head to one side, revealing the twinned bruise where Henry sucked her raw. ]
We see about that.
[ her tail's drape falls loose and lower, so that it curls beneath his cock and cradles it. ]
[Fumbling through the mire is worth the effort. For all the muck and missteps, finding a patch of sun and reveling in it is a happiness unlike any he’s experienced in a long while.
His eyes open wider when her tail cradles his cock, though, clearly a mote of surprise. His erection has softened somewhat since they hit that dour note, but that’s likely not to her surprise — still, a hint of pleasant surprise in his voice.]
Still feeling— [naughty? eager? willing? He finds his eyes roving to the marks left on her skin.] —interested?
[ what surprises her is that he's still hard at all, after all that. she avoids his gaze again, this time in an affect of being demure. and the embarrassment still too fresh. ]
[ she will. she does. but only slowly, seeming to slither from him and down against his bloodstained bed with reluctance. still her legs hug him, and her tail. that much she finds she does not want to relinquish just yet. ]
Is it not fun anymore?
[ it feels different now. she made it different. ]
[He looks down at her, brows scrunched. That she would even ask that makes him wonder if his reaction had been wrong, though he's tried to be gentle.]
Of course it's still fun. I want you to be able to talk to me, you know. And what I like doesn't always have to align with what you like.
[In fact, Henry is still learning what he likes. But if some of his more overbearing predilections need to be tamped down so she doesn't feel degraded, why would he ever be upset about that? The darker parts of him are often buried and carefully controlled — it's nothing new.]
[ she wants them to align, is the thing. she wants them to work in perfect synchronicity, perfect time, like the hands upon a clock. she wants to be joyful and mischievous in bed, and see Henry's claws and show him her own and yet known they would never be truly used. the hint enough of a thrill.
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Not exactly. I just know what I’d like for…
[For her? For him? For a future where they find each other again, once they’re done with this awful town?]
…us, someday.
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I would not mind it, either.
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His voice trembles, as though the words themselves cannot fully represent the multi-layered feeling that is love. Simply, they cannot.]
I’m looking forward to it. [Another feather-light kiss on her shoulder.] And sorry, again.
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Your voice is shaking.
[ it has to be true. all of it.
she brings her legs up and hugs his hips with her inner thighs. ]
Don't cry.
[ she thinks it would be crying that would do that. even though he hasn't wept since they were children. ]
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His expression is… caught between relief and want and apology and regret and affection, utterly clear that he doesn’t really know how to wear it, rare as it is. He pulls his lips up faintly at the corners.]
I’m not crying. I’m just— [It’s an overwhelm, but one he’s not trying to shove aside.] I don’t know how to say it. I’m just glad I met you.
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[ her anger fizzled, she wallows in the ache instead. brings him closer by the nape to kiss up the apples of his cheeks. she loops her tail around him, too, and lets the soft tip brush against his inner thighs. ]
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Closes his eyes when she kisses him, exhaling a shaky breath, but he's smiling.]
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I’m the one who should be asking you that.
[He gives her a kiss, though. Gentle.]
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Better now.
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Good. [A small attempt at levity:] From now on, you’re only ever a good girl.
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mumbles something; not words, just voice. he's constantly fumbling through the mire trying to find the right thing to say, and she knows that she does not make it simple for him. lists her head to one side, revealing the twinned bruise where Henry sucked her raw. ]
We see about that.
[ her tail's drape falls loose and lower, so that it curls beneath his cock and cradles it. ]
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His eyes open wider when her tail cradles his cock, though, clearly a mote of surprise. His erection has softened somewhat since they hit that dour note, but that’s likely not to her surprise — still, a hint of pleasant surprise in his voice.]
Still feeling— [naughty? eager? willing? He finds his eyes roving to the marks left on her skin.] —interested?
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It would be perfectly good waste if I were not...
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Then let’s pick up where we left off.
[Smooth over that bump in the road, salvage the evening together, be all the better for it.]
Is your mouth still lonely, or…?
[Something else?]
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Even if I begged?
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Then what, instead?
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Please fuck me. But I do not want to be facing down.
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That’s fine. I like seeing your face.
[A kiss on the forehead this time, then-]
Lie all the way down, then.
[He assumes she’ll have to unhook her arms from around his neck.]
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Is it not fun anymore?
[ it feels different now. she made it different. ]
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[He looks down at her, brows scrunched. That she would even ask that makes him wonder if his reaction had been wrong, though he's tried to be gentle.]
Of course it's still fun. I want you to be able to talk to me, you know. And what I like doesn't always have to align with what you like.
[In fact, Henry is still learning what he likes. But if some of his more overbearing predilections need to be tamped down so she doesn't feel degraded, why would he ever be upset about that? The darker parts of him are often buried and carefully controlled — it's nothing new.]
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gaze askance again. ]
I did not dislike... it. Only how you frame it.
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crying again
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