[ and a racing heartbeat. she lays her hand atop his offered palm, fingers curling and squeezing as if to say, happily. all the better to leave behind the overwhelming perfume and atrocious, tinny music of this shop. she'll come back if she has to, but for now... a far more satisfying morning awaits.
He squeezes her hand, too, which has become habit by now. Back to Pride, then down the hall to his room. The door swings open and he leads her in.
As expected, just like before, it is very neat in here. Everything in its place — not that there’s much to his name. A few books from the library, his sketchbook on the dresser. A spa gift basket next to that. A pack of tarot cards! An impeccably well-made bed.]
[SHE SURVIVED FOR ONE WHOLE HOUR AND I’M SURE HENRY DIDN’T TEASE HER EVEN ONCE THE WHOLE WAY—
He smiles, and of course, predictably, moves to sit beside her. The tubes of lipstick are placed between them, and they roll towards and away depending on where they both make dips in the mattress.
His door closes and locks with one more use of his powers.]
Perfect. So… you definitely picked more than a few. [His turn to pick one up and waggle it at her.] Where to start?
[ the sharp click of the lock on the door is one more tease, making goosebumps rise on her arms and legs. squeezes her thighs together a little more firmly...
[A rhetorical question. He's already popping off the top of the lipstick tube, and since she picked at random, next up is a very scarlet red color.]
And you said the last one was too red...
[We're going all in, it would seem, nonetheless. Maybe the point isn't trying to find an actual preference at this rate; maybe the point is just being painfully, excitingly close, and slowly, slowly applying the color to her parted lips. A delicate touch, near and warm, leaning in closer than he did in the Sephora itself. There's no reason to be shy in the confines of his own room.]
[ but it's unlikely. she just knows she wants, in ways she has rarely wanted since Teaferth, for Henry to be close. to look at her beneath lowered lashes, to apply the tint while hushed breaths pass between them. she lifts her chin just a little higher, her own heavy-lashed gaze on his mouth. the parting of his lips. ]
[A parting of his lips that she's sure to notice, the slightest sign of focus and attention from Henry, plied so fervently in her direction.]
I think you look good...
[Bottom lip rife with crimson, her upper lip is next. He's careful, careful. Indulgently slow, even if his gaze flicks up to meet hers under her long, dark lashes.
Lifts his free hand to tilt just beneath her chin. Barely a touch.]
[He finishes, her lips now painted a bright red — whether or not she thinks the color suits her doesn't matter to Henry. In this moment, it enhances the shape of her lips, makes them glisten all too enticingly, and he barely puts gives himself time to set the tube aside—doesn't even let her get a good look in the mirror by the dresser to judge the red for herself!—before he's leaning in for a kiss.]
[ yes, yes, yes. she honestly fails to even look towards the mirror—why would she? he's right in front of her. so all she sees is the deepening parting of his lips as he leans closer, and she matches him. tries to kiss him as square-on at first, so that the colour transfers to as much of his mouth as possible.
[Square-on she does kiss him, transferring a fair amount onto his own lips. An impression that's all the more prominent for the color.
Sure, maybe it's undoing his hard work, since it's going to smear across them both, but that's part of why it's so compelling. Proof of her on him, delicacy gone out the window when all they care about is the electric heat wound tight between them both.
She can admire her handiwork, indeed, when he pulls away. And he, the same.]
[He dips in again, low enough to tilt his head and place a very plush kiss at the crook of her neck. The remnants of lipstick remain there, imprinted in the shape of his lips, though faint.]
[ in this place? watching allies perish, being hunted, tortured? there hasn't been much cause to giggle up to now, but--he sets her heart fluttering, just his voice does it. she really likes it. it scratches an itch inside her that he also elicits. ]
[Now, he would have said, had she not stolen another kiss from him, lips warm against his. He can make her laugh, make her giggle. Make her happy and content in this awful place, through little more than their growing bond and connection. He’s sure of it. There’s proof of it already.
But, for now, just kisses her back. Parts his mouth so that he can run his tongue along her lower lip — tasting lipstick, of course.]
[ more tongue than kiss, but she doesn't hate that. no, her stomach writhes delightfully and incessantly, and she licks at his mouth with an obvious eagerness. someone's gotten pent-up again.
still holding his cheek and jaw in one hand. the sense Henry will get is much more of trying to eat him, rather than to just tidy up lipstick smears. in fact, she hopes this makes it worse. ]
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I see. But not always. I’ll be an exception today. So…
[Offers her a hand, more excess tubes being picked up by that invisible force.]
Come to my boudoir, Ms Vaux. We’ll find the perfect color for you yet.
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[ and a racing heartbeat. she lays her hand atop his offered palm, fingers curling and squeezing as if to say, happily. all the better to leave behind the overwhelming perfume and atrocious, tinny music of this shop. she'll come back if she has to, but for now... a far more satisfying morning awaits.
snatches a bottle of hair oil as they pass it. ]
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He squeezes her hand, too, which has become habit by now. Back to Pride, then down the hall to his room. The door swings open and he leads her in.
As expected, just like before, it is very neat in here. Everything in its place — not that there’s much to his name. A few books from the library, his sketchbook on the dresser. A spa gift basket next to that. A pack of tarot cards! An impeccably well-made bed.]
Sit wherever you like.
[…her options are limited to: the bed. :) ]
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crossing her legs at the ankles, the picture of refined elegance ]
How about here?
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He smiles, and of course, predictably, moves to sit beside her. The tubes of lipstick are placed between them, and they roll towards and away depending on where they both make dips in the mattress.
His door closes and locks with one more use of his powers.]
Perfect. So… you definitely picked more than a few. [His turn to pick one up and waggle it at her.] Where to start?
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... and parts her lips. ]
Just start.
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[A rhetorical question. He's already popping off the top of the lipstick tube, and since she picked at random, next up is a very scarlet red color.]
And you said the last one was too red...
[We're going all in, it would seem, nonetheless. Maybe the point isn't trying to find an actual preference at this rate; maybe the point is just being painfully, excitingly close, and slowly, slowly applying the color to her parted lips. A delicate touch, near and warm, leaning in closer than he did in the Sephora itself. There's no reason to be shy in the confines of his own room.]
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[ but it's unlikely. she just knows she wants, in ways she has rarely wanted since Teaferth, for Henry to be close. to look at her beneath lowered lashes, to apply the tint while hushed breaths pass between them. she lifts her chin just a little higher, her own heavy-lashed gaze on his mouth. the parting of his lips. ]
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I think you look good...
[Bottom lip rife with crimson, her upper lip is next. He's careful, careful. Indulgently slow, even if his gaze flicks up to meet hers under her long, dark lashes.
Lifts his free hand to tilt just beneath her chin. Barely a touch.]
...in any color.
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Oh, good.
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Everything okay, Sprezzatura?
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Should I give you more space?
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... How does it suit?
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[He finishes, her lips now painted a bright red — whether or not she thinks the color suits her doesn't matter to Henry. In this moment, it enhances the shape of her lips, makes them glisten all too enticingly, and he barely puts gives himself time to set the tube aside—doesn't even let her get a good look in the mirror by the dresser to judge the red for herself!—before he's leaning in for a kiss.]
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hehe ]
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Sure, maybe it's undoing his hard work, since it's going to smear across them both, but that's part of why it's so compelling. Proof of her on him, delicacy gone out the window when all they care about is the electric heat wound tight between them both.
She can admire her handiwork, indeed, when he pulls away. And he, the same.]
Now you've made a mess.
[Says Henry, who kissed her first.]
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as for what it represents, though...
breathy, ] Let's make more.
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Like-
[He dips in again, low enough to tilt his head and place a very plush kiss at the crook of her neck. The remnants of lipstick remain there, imprinted in the shape of his lips, though faint.]
-this?
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giggles. honestly giggles. ]
Yes.
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Kisses a little lower. Another trace of lipstick on her skin, but less so this time. They might have to reapply soon.]
I don't think I've ever heard that from you before.
[Her giggling!]
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[ in this place? watching allies perish, being hunted, tortured? there hasn't been much cause to giggle up to now, but--he sets her heart fluttering, just his voice does it. she really likes it. it scratches an itch inside her that he also elicits. ]
Come here.
[ scooping his chin to kiss him again ]
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[Now, he would have said, had she not stolen another kiss from him, lips warm against his. He can make her laugh, make her giggle. Make her happy and content in this awful place, through little more than their growing bond and connection. He’s sure of it. There’s proof of it already.
But, for now, just kisses her back. Parts his mouth so that he can run his tongue along her lower lip — tasting lipstick, of course.]
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still holding his cheek and jaw in one hand. the sense Henry will get is much more of trying to eat him, rather than to just tidy up lipstick smears. in fact, she hopes this makes it worse. ]
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we should have put an nsfw warning on this like 5 tags ago
........ oops
IT'S FINE no one look
😳
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Oops 2/2
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