[ It's good to sense her magic again, her Chaos humming between them. They've each spent too much time paying with the the few things the world has allowed them to keep, and hell—even at his angriest, he never wished to see her magic stripped from her. But he has not, in truth, been angry with her in a long while. Mostly, he's...missed her. In that pained, hollow way where he had told himself it was not possible to yet be with her.
It feels possible now.
He drinks in every hitch in her chest, every noise and moan she makes. His fingers squeeze her shoulder, her arm, tangling in her thick dark locks. Maybe he leaves behind a mark or two. He isn't paying attention, seldom feels the need to be overly gentle with Yen, and here, in particular, he's loose and unthinking in a way he almost never is. A breathy sound falls from his lips, her name tumbling in a low grown.
Then he's shuddering, ears ringing and eyes shut. He curses. His skin is slick against hers, and when he finally opens his eyes again, he can see the flush blooming across her chest, across her cheeks. A crooked smile lifts his lips.
This is, he thinks, a reunion well worth waiting for. Well worth a toppled kingdom for.
He cups her cheek, studies the way the moonlight turns her eyes a pale lavender. Her imperfections, inside and out—they're what makes her who she is. He would not ask her to be anything else. (All he'd wanted was that she not throw everything away to be something she didn't need to be.) ]
I missed you. [ Has he said that before? Well, no matter. He has no qualms repeating himself, this once. ]
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It feels possible now.
He drinks in every hitch in her chest, every noise and moan she makes. His fingers squeeze her shoulder, her arm, tangling in her thick dark locks. Maybe he leaves behind a mark or two. He isn't paying attention, seldom feels the need to be overly gentle with Yen, and here, in particular, he's loose and unthinking in a way he almost never is. A breathy sound falls from his lips, her name tumbling in a low grown.
Then he's shuddering, ears ringing and eyes shut. He curses. His skin is slick against hers, and when he finally opens his eyes again, he can see the flush blooming across her chest, across her cheeks. A crooked smile lifts his lips.
This is, he thinks, a reunion well worth waiting for. Well worth a toppled kingdom for.
He cups her cheek, studies the way the moonlight turns her eyes a pale lavender. Her imperfections, inside and out—they're what makes her who she is. He would not ask her to be anything else. (All he'd wanted was that she not throw everything away to be something she didn't need to be.) ]
I missed you. [ Has he said that before? Well, no matter. He has no qualms repeating himself, this once. ]