[ The more she leans into him, the more he wants. The more he takes. And he gets it, sometimes, how easily it is to want and take and have, especially when the world is willing to give up so fucking little. It's a beast he's tamed and learned to shape into something less sharp, but right here with her, it's safe to let those desires run free, just a bit.
He lets her wrap her arms around him; they press together, skin and linen and silk all brushing and rubbing against him. His breath falls hot, heavy, from his lips. He slides deeper into her, until he draws that shuddering noise out of her, or a moan. He does want more, though; it isn't long before he rolls onto his back and flips her on top instead—an inhumanly quick motion that makes the bed frame creak. Because he can do that now—roll onto his back—and because she isn't the only one who likes to see if they can surprise the other.
He stares up at her for a second, taking her in from this angle that's both new and long familiar. Her dark hair curls around her ears. He reaches up—carefully undoes the ties and braids that hold some of it together until it all comes tumbling loose. His fingers run through the thick waves of it, before he cups her face and leans up to kiss her.
He missed her. He did. Not just in their time apart in this world, but when she left him on that mountain. Lately, he's thought more and more about the truth of what they've been told time and again. Destiny. Drawn together. (For what? Is it for this? Them pulled together into a strange world?) And he wonders if this is the beginning of something more for them, or if he simply wants to believe what isn't there. He doesn't know. Even now, nothing feels certain, but the ground is steadier than it's been in a long time. Like maybe if they both meet one another at exactly the right point, they can keep each other from slipping. ]
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He lets her wrap her arms around him; they press together, skin and linen and silk all brushing and rubbing against him. His breath falls hot, heavy, from his lips. He slides deeper into her, until he draws that shuddering noise out of her, or a moan. He does want more, though; it isn't long before he rolls onto his back and flips her on top instead—an inhumanly quick motion that makes the bed frame creak. Because he can do that now—roll onto his back—and because she isn't the only one who likes to see if they can surprise the other.
He stares up at her for a second, taking her in from this angle that's both new and long familiar. Her dark hair curls around her ears. He reaches up—carefully undoes the ties and braids that hold some of it together until it all comes tumbling loose. His fingers run through the thick waves of it, before he cups her face and leans up to kiss her.
He missed her. He did. Not just in their time apart in this world, but when she left him on that mountain. Lately, he's thought more and more about the truth of what they've been told time and again. Destiny. Drawn together. (For what? Is it for this? Them pulled together into a strange world?) And he wonders if this is the beginning of something more for them, or if he simply wants to believe what isn't there. He doesn't know. Even now, nothing feels certain, but the ground is steadier than it's been in a long time. Like maybe if they both meet one another at exactly the right point, they can keep each other from slipping. ]