Rained In | Locked to ablademaiden

[twelfth_labour]

[Rain isn't a issue underground. Those who live there don't have reason to carry umbrellas or carry rain coats, the weather in its lacking course remains the same under the gray ceiling of metal and concrete. Heine doesn't have reason to go up top often and more often than not it's due to work he's up there at all. Such is the case this time, a job of Liza's that was more presence than action for some meeting he isn't certain had anything to do with the underground districts.

He went regardless and took it as an opportunity to take Naoto with him. Below ground they kept to dark corners and empty rooms for their budding relationship, the sort that has stumbles and careful wording. They've gotten closer than ever atop the shimmering feelings he kept down. He hadn't accounted for the weather however, the idea of grabbing the bike and a bottle on some semblance of a normal date.

Instead they got wet, head and shoulders at worst, making the eventful plan fall flat. He got them to a dry place, the safe house belonging to a friend of a friend of Liza's. He'd been there before, the bike isn't far from the place putting it all in a close proximity. It doesn't matter now he laments jamming the hidden key into the door to get them inside.

Once in, the door is locked back up and search for a towel is taken. It's found, two grabbed to dry his hair and to give one to her. The good intention goes awry when he comes back from the bathroom to find her in wait, dark hair limp and framing her face. Her shoulders are pulled in from chill he suspects, rain having weighed the top of her jacket. At least the rest of her isn't wet, though cold, he thinks stepping closer before handing her a towel.]

It's not what I planned, but we are getting some time together. [His tone dips into happy, a thin warm smile that's almost strange on his pale face. The fact he's staring at her face isn't hidden, not that he's trying to or wanting her to notice, but he finds appeal in the dampness of her hair.

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[ablademaiden]

[ If somehow there was a way to erase any and all pains from their past. The presence of the other and moments like this seem to be the closest thing to it. A solution by no means, temporary to make them feel normal.

Gentle touches, soft murmurs of having missed him, having him here like this is not as common as either would like. Hands at her lower back, a smile comes, brushing against his cheek. To be held is nice, though skin craves for for his touch, jealous of her dress feeling such a thing, shifting some in his lap then.

Hands slip back, taking his own in hers, guiding them up and under the back of her dress to instead rest on her lower back beneath the material. A bite to her lip, nose pressed to his cheek, she sighs at the feeling of his skin against hers. It's warm in ways she can't explain, finding herself drawn to it, missing it when he's away at times. ]

I like feeling you.

[ A murmur of words, soft to the point of shy, a nuzzle to his cheek while fingers trace over his arms. ]

[twelfth_labour]

[It's an indulgence on his part, some relief from the constant reminders of the past on his mind. She lets him forget, not in distraction, but in some prospect of the future. The possibility of one where there was not no so long ago.

Soft fabric is no replacement for skin, his fingers dipping to her back and rising bunching up her dress. He's aware of the line he's walking on. The one against his mind and the other in progressively touching her more intimately. A laugh bubbles from his chest, but dies before hitting his lips. The situations isn't funny by no means. He's happy however, very happy as shown by the staying smile.]

Is that feeling or being felt?

[Both are pleasant in any amount. Shoulders sink in following the trace of his fingers. With her face to his cheek, he leans in further kissing between her neck and dress strap. Hands sink lower to the line above her waist and drift back up starting a pattern of rubbing about her back.]

I could go for feeling of you more.

[There's little guise in his desire, it's been gnawing at him since they started.]

[ablademaiden]

[ His touch is unlike anything else. She adores it, misses it when he's away, melts into it when they're like this. She needs him, in ways she never thought she would. About as close to normal as it may get for them, she feels like she's herself and not someone else. Somehow, he makes her feel this way.

A smile at his words, a fleeting moment of embarrassment on her part. Nothing ridiculous said and yet she can't help it. Nice to hear, that he wants to feel her, regardless of scars on her skin, even those beneath it.

Hand lifting, fingers stroke along his other cheek, close to him still in his lap. ]

Then feel me.

[ Soft words, tongue swipes over her lips. This dance of theirs leading to areas they haven't yet explored together but neither seem to really be stopping.

A moment to pause, fingers turn his face toward her, lips seeking his out. A kiss then, soft and slow, an attempt to draw as much of him into her as she can, as he's willing to give her.

Dropping from his cheek, fingers take to his shirt instead, twisting within the material of it, giving a light tug. She becomes lost in their kiss, slipping into him in ways she never quite has before. Yet it doesn't scare her, doesn't concern her. She trusts him and his touch. ]

[twelfth_labour]

[Calling her touch special comes off cliche, however in his case he has reason to believe it really is. She has the ability to touch him foremost and how it spreads small fires across his skin in moments like this is wholly unique to her. No other woman is capable of doing so or slipping into his mind often as she does in thoughts of affection and desire.

He didn't think it possible to yearn for a woman. With his reactions it made him come to terms with living a life of solidarity, and yet here they are with her in his lap telling him to feel her. He wants to touch her and in turn be touched.

All this want and need make him feel human. They're human needs, nothing a monster or beast needs to survive, so only a human could have them. Fingers pick at her dress during their extended kiss, lips tender from the repeated efforts. Dizziness is an issue at times, breathing forgone for kissing and well worth the exchange.

It eventually wins, or ties, his lips bracing hers to breath and speak.]

Are you okay with this? [Concern more than timidness. They've cut close to more intimate things than kissing and touching, this however is far in and doesn't seem slowing. Both have needed to stop, their past overwhelming and partners understanding. Neither are there now, he wants to continue so long she does as well.]

[ablademaiden]

[ Broken kiss, words filter into her mind after the haze breaks apart. Somehow, he's easy to become lost in, a thought that should be scary. She can't seem to be, not anymore. Before, all of this, it was. But she doesn't shy from it now, hasn't for awhile.

Fingers play with the material between them, his shirt held hostage for now in her grasp. Skin warm, heart pounding, things she hasn't quite felt before bubble slowly to the surface. Intimacy is not something entirely new to them. But this is, where this will go, how it will end. And she's fine with that.

A nod given, a sheepish smile, gaze drops to her fingers twisted in his shirt. ]

If you're not sure- if you're worried.

[ She doesn't finish the sentence, she knows he'll understand. A touch of fingers against his cheek, she nuzzles at him, show of affection, show that she trusts him. ]

You make me feel human in ways I didn't think I could.

[ A smile, hands cup his face, slow and gentle. Dark eyes gaze into his own, brush of fingers over his forehead, lips pressing a tender kiss there after. ]

[twelfth_labour]

[Getting lost in one another is of high irony seeing how they've made oaths to return one another should one of them become lost. Amid each other getting lost isn't seen as a terrible thing. It's deliberate, part of what happens when they're around each other alone and long. Less than losing he thinks is how it's finding her and attempting to refresh the memory of what they have.

Clothing is becoming increasingly more of a hindrance. The idea it is becoming so isn't a scary one, he's come to terms that with these human wants and needs they were bound to become deeper. They have in bits and pieces when they weren't ready or uncertain how to carry on. Neither is putting a stop to them tonight, his hand tugging at her dress and ears on alert for a response.]

I'm glad I do. [Repeating the same line doesn't need passing. The feelings are the same, both in wanting to continue and being human. His forehead leans into her lips and arms pull back to set on the back of her arms.]

We might wanna- move. [Their current position doesn't give either a lot of movement, next to none for undressing. It'll be a slow process no matter where and constant curious looks to confirm this is still what is wanted.]

[ablademaiden]

[ To change locations was a good idea for what was to come. Decided on, more or less, the idea of turning back isn't a thought in her mind. She wants this, wants him, wants everything that comes with it and feeling human.

Fingers brushing down his cheeks, a smile to her lips, she nods at the suggestion to move and shifts. Unfamiliar with the place, she assumes there's a bedroom and a bed in it. That would be the ideal place for this.

There's a moment of reluctance to leave his lap. She feels cozy there, content. A moment later, she does, slipping off, dress falling around her thighs again. Hair no longer wet, still damp some. Not pitiful by any means this time around. ]

Have you ever... [ Words trail off, suddenly she's lost the nerve to ask. She wants to ask if he's ever done this before, sex. She hasn't, not with the way things are going between them. Never any time to when trying to figure out who you were and stay alive in a world that seemed to want you dead for simply existing.

As for what he has or hasn't done, she's not entirely sure, none of it truly being her business. But she still finds herself wanting to ask, curious, because she's curious about him, wanting to know more of him in various ways. ]

[twelfth_labour]

[Opportunities to stop or at the very least take a moment were there, they always have been, but he doesn't see much need for them this time. They've cut close several times and it seems like build up in hindsight, a taste for things to come when the right time rolled around. He just never though it'd of been in a safe house during a rain storm.

He supposes there's no better set up than this. They're in a safe house, a coincidence that they too feel safe with each other. The rain holds to a gentle background noise and thunder is absent. All of his senses are on higher alert to every movement or sound made as she shifts to lift off of him.

The wet hair isn't pitiful. It's endearing, though he isn't sure the same sight is shared on the matter. With her standing, he takes to moving and standing himself only to halt midway at her unfinished words. His mind completes the rest because it's really the sole thing that needs asking; has he ever done this before?]

No, this is- you are my first. [It's how it should be said. She is going to be his first, she's been his first in many regards. Had he not been of his own body and mind he'd seen their budding relationship as juvenile like a pair of love starved teenagers. It isn't, not by a long shot, they're not naive to the world in ways teenagers are. What they have is real, perhaps one of the few things he knows is real in a world of illusions.

The transition from sitting to standing it finished by wrapping arms around her waist and kissing her forehead. This took talking out he figured, uncertainty pounding at his chest against the want to do so.] This is all new for you to huh? [Has to be, she's in the same circumstances of never having time or need to do these things.]

[ablademaiden]

[ A sense of surprise comes over her at his answer. He hasn't indulged in desires of the flesh, neither has she. Uncertainty with what his answer would have been, she's unsure what she expected. It makes sense. Lives spent with tortured pasts, unanswered questions, bullets and carnage, left little time for anything else but surviving each day as it came.

The kiss to her forehead brings her back, out of her thoughts, into the present. Gaze drifting downwards, it settles on his chest. Hands lift, fingers touch at the material of his shirt, a loose hold on it.

It's the way he says she's his first that causes her to pause, to feel things she hasn't felt before; he's good at doing that to her. ]

Yeah. [ The answer is soft, simple, to the point. A slight shift, her head rests against his chest, wanting to feel his warmth around her, if even for a moment. ]

I've never wanted to before but with you... [ A soft sound, reminiscent of amusement, she smiles against his chest, fingers stroking idly at the material of his shirt.

Gaze lifts, his face being what she wants to see. A hand to his face, fingers caress his cheek, her own eyes looking to his red. A decision made then, she leans in to press her lips against his for a kiss. ]

[twelfth_labour]

[The extent of his phobia went toward women only, however he isn't fond of anyone's touch other than Nill's and present company. It's odd that the gender he's uncomfortable with contains the two people he is fine with touching on a regular basis, one of what goes beyond simple touching. Time and torture to held him back from considering the option despite offers made thinking it to take his edge off. It never was a good solution and despite the he finds himself less at ends with her.

He swallows in wait. The air has turned tense from what it was moments ago. There's more on his mind, her mind, and it's a large leap in what they've created with each other. He's ready if uncertain, but he isn't uncertain that he wants to go about this.]

Never saw the reason to. [He answers back. Living underground doesn't shed romantic light on sex. It's a business above all, so he took no care toward it bar that of saving Nill. Warmth spreads from where her head rest on his chest, his heart beating so fast he thinks she can feel it.

The state doesn't last, her face taking his in and then pulling in for another kiss. Her hands are remarkably soft for one who uses a blade, though no softer than her lips. Both hands rise higher in holding her to her lower back to pull her in further.]

We'll take things slow. [He promises pressing his lips back in and brushing his nose to hers.]

[ablademaiden]

[ Slow being a good idea, she can't argue with that. Something out of the norm for them, their lives bordering more on fast with how quickly things can change, hardly in their favor at times. Rain being used as an excuse for them to stay in, slow is more than acceptable.

His pull is becoming something she craves. She wonders if that might prove to be troublesome in the future. For now, it doesn't matter. This moment, precious as it seems to be, does. A moment she didn't think would come, always wondered, wanting it now that it's here.

A smile, gentle and sweet, the brush of his nose to hers draws a soft sound from her; a laugh. Something so simple seems to lift her heart, something she at times wonders is hers.

He makes her forget things like that. Whether or not she may be human, a double, a life not hers but merely a copy of someone elses. Things that at times have caused her to slip away from herself, disappear within her mind, struggling to piece together her identity and come back to the present. He makes her forget those thoughts, she wonders if he knows. ]

This place has a bed, right?

[ Teeth bite at her lower lip, inquiry more to break the silence between them. Reluctant, she pulls away, fingers releasing their hold on his shirt. ]

[twelfth_labour]

[Slow is a pace he's comfortable for when it came to her. They're going into unknown territory neither has an experience in. Guesses are all he has at best, the limited knowledge gathered from living about in the underground. Much of is useless once dug back up, but it's better they go in expecting nothing and learning together.

A different switch is flipped outside their moments alone. He cares, yet he doesn't let it overtake him and hurt the both of them. She's capable of handling herself and when the need comes, he'll offer his hand in helping. Pulling her to for a quick kiss isn't safe, not outside, though he's bitten his lip back from wanting to. It keeps them safe, that no public knowledge of their relationship is shared. No plans made against them by using them.

One day he hopes otherwise. It's a day on the horizon that gives him reason to consider a future, but for now it's kept in the confines of meetings and dark corners.

Her laughter is wonderful. Something that ought to come out more, be it jokes and loving gestures. It makes him forget a lot of things, makes them seem human in their time together.]

Several, but we just need on. [Releasing her is difficult, but it's for moving forward. Hands let go and she steps back from him giving him better sight of her body. Her curves are subtle from her chest to her legs, her face lit up and eyes too easy to get lost in. Going to one knee he takes the bottle and stands back up turning his head toward one of the bed rooms.]

Is that one alright? [It's a room with a bed, simple and plain, the colors all dim. It looks good, just right for them because it's only them that matters in greater scheme of things.] Shall we? [He offers his free hand and a soft smile to lead them.]

[ablademaiden]

[ Decor for the room not a priority, she nods in regards to the one he points out. Regardless of where they might be, so long as she's with him, it's fine. Fancy isn't a part of their lives as it is, no reason for it to start being so now.

The gentle smile and extend of hand to her, she smiles some after a brief pause. Upon her first meeting of him, she wasn't sure what to expect. No more than a simple brush past one another, where things are now, where they plan to go in moments, it's nothing she expected or would have thought. For him to be someone so precious to her, someone who ends up on her thoughts, it's startling at times, takes some getting use to.

Slender fingers take hold of his, intending to drift off to the bedroom with him. A striking thought, gaze drops, legs bringing her over to him. Inexperienced with all of this, she's been going with what feels right. This moment, it feels right albeit new. An edge is there, not fear of how he might be, how she could slip unexpectedly but something.

Still, they both remain cautious for their own reasons, that she knows, that she expects. ]

I feel like somehow Miss Liza would be saying this is being done about all wrong.

[ She mutters the words to fill the silence, soft and teasing almost as legs carry her towards the bed. She wonders what the old woman would think should she know of them, of such a notion of them together like this. Positive an outfit might have been suggested or tailored to have her look- better. ]

[twelfth_labour]

[The room isn't sparse, set trinkets and a dresser giving it a lived in look rather than a place of a safety. It's not much and looks eerily like his apartment for the lack of furniture pieces taking up space. He trivializes the thought having it as divided attention and resets his focus to her, theirs hands, and entering the room.

He sighs in a dull laugh at her assessment. Liza is one of the last things on his mind, not counting most of thoughts surrounding Naoto alone, so it comes to some surprise. A shake of his head indicates she's right, the older woman would have had them going at things far different if it'd been up to her. However it isn't, it's up to them, and he prefers it this way over fabricating events. What comes natural is how they've come this far, there isn't point in trying to control circumstances.]

She'd approve regardless.

[Outfits are far removed from the equation. Prettying up isn't a routine either follow. It doesn't come natural and is a pointless endeavor when they're bound to end up ruining clothing through combat or general wear and tear. She's lovely as she is, no amount of frills and lace is going to improve that.

The room is larger on the inside to his perception, Bottle to his hip and other hand in hers. Red eyes survey the room picking it apart from the simple bed and its faded pattern top to the worn dresser set against the corner, all white in some shade or another. A quick glance toward her is given to see her opinion on the room.]

Cozy enough? There are other rooms if this isn't- right.

[ablademaiden]

[ Miss Liza drifts in and out of her thoughts, silenced for good when she sees the room. She wonders if things like this are really taken into careful consideration by others. Things normal people do perhaps. His concern over the room's appearance she finds endearing some, small smile tugging at her lips as she looks around. Never entirely sure what to expect, she finds it's suitable and can't find anything wrong with it. ]

It looks fine.

[ There are no rose petals scattered, no pop of champagne, no romantic music nor moonlight pouring in through silk drapes. Nothing is romantic about the room, yet she finds it just right. Somehow, with how simple it is, it feels like them and she can't tear herself away from that feeling.

Should rose petals drift from the ceiling, she might feel uncomfortable in all honesty.

A swallow of a sigh, a glance is given to him, fingers tugging at his for a brief moment. No point in standing around when a room has been decided on, so feet carry her off towards the bed, stopping when she reaches it. ]

It's funny to say it but... you would think something like how a room looks doesn't matter as much as who it is you're with. At least it's how I'm feeling.

[ Words soft, almost shy in a way, teeth drag over her lower lip and she reaches forward to let fingers stroke along the top of the mattress; it's soft. ]

Maybe that's the human part of me talking.

[twelfth_labour]

[Romantic music and champagne would have been overdoing it given the humble manner Heine took their relationship. They didn't need rose petals or proper lighting, stealing away time from busy lives is romantic by its own right. When they can be alone without worry of gunfire or impending danger is nice, this better on account of having room and drink on top of things.

Besides, it isn't them. They aren't traditionally romantic or normal. The room isn't sterile however, there's some personality in what's occupying the room.]

No, that's just you talking.

[Calling to one's humanity shouldn't come across as complimenting and yet it does. The peculiarity of using the term in endearment isn't lost, he's sharp on the intake they're dance of tiny compliments hidden behind trivial wording is unusual. Better words are at disposal, but a lack of certainty withholds them from much use.

The gentle tug places them at the bed and mechanics aren't vivid in detail from this point to the next. It's all taking progression natural, mechanics at the back of his mind and the rest felt rather than thought.]

Should we- [The hand and bottle tip toward the bed, emotion overturning an idea and question exchanged for suggestion.] Sit back on the bed, just for a bit.

[ablademaiden]

[ Right or wrong doesn't seem to exist with this for them. Some might say otherwise, how to go about it all, but they're not here, just as well, too. So long as he is here, that he's the one with her, things will turn out as they do, regardless of what the majority might do.

A glance to him, words settling in, she complies, sitting on the edge of the bed. The thought comes to remove her boots, not much use here ont he bed, if only to get in the way. Fingers tug one of the zippers down, slowly, gaze wandering silently around the room. For as temporary as it is, it seems very them in a sense. She's not sure if that's amusing or a relief.

One boot off, the other follows shortly, dropped aside near the bed. Hands to the mattress, a push back, sliding further onto the bed and she can feel a sudden warmth come over her; she's sure it's noticeable to her skin.

A knee bent, other leg crooked, pillows lay near the headrest of the bed and she reaches out to touch one. ]

Well, at least it's comfy and not like sleeping on the floor.

[ A moment of small talk, bit of a smile to her lips, a glance to him. Little things that seem to make the moment more real to her, keep her grounded and in the present with him and not allow thoughts to drift too far off where she might end up lost. ]

[twelfth_labour]

[Emotions are a dangerous way to choice things by, yet he's inclined to follow them with they've proven better at leading than logic has. He's emotional to begin with, a more subdued type that feels before thinks when blood starts running. The faster his heart beats, the less logical he becomes is the furthest he's put thought in his inner workings and it tends to cut right there any ways.

He's fine with it, learned to deal with it, and maintain control above devolving into madness. That said she can drive him crazy by the most unintentional means. Abiding to his suggestion and slipping her boots off sets him closer, hand planted to the bed to lean him forward and take her lips.]

If you prefer that over this, I won't say no. [He chimes halfway between kidding and serious. Whatever makes her comfortable in progression because this is about her as it is for him, if not a bit more toward her sake in comfort. Bottle is set on the beside table to free his hands, purpose lost and presence a footnote in things coming.

The hand not holding him up places palm up in her lower leg sliding higher. It pauses only once dress is hit, her under thigh smooth under his finger tips and receiving a squeeze before slipping closer to her knee.] I want to touch you first. [It's planned so, the announcement a bit late given where his hand has been placed.]

[ablademaiden]

[ A joke to ease whatever tension might linger between them, she appreciates it, smile on her lips. The floor wouldn't be best for this, for now, some other time maybe but not for this. Surreal to feel everything drawing closer, including him. A time when this was next to impossible, the thought alone of him ever being so close to her. It was never one for some time. Things change, evidently, this relationship between them one of them.

His touch, it burns. Not in pain but in trembling desire. Touches like this, they're not what she's use to. Fleeting ones between them more common as of late but still something to grow use to, to be comfortable with, to know neither is about to slip up or off the deep end. Mind spinning already, somehow she's able to understand his words, piecing them together one at a time.

Because this is going to happen and it's something she never thought would. Not just with him but in general. Their lives not being open to such intimate desires and touches, yet here they are and she finds it all surreal. ]

You can touch me anywhere.

[ A swallow of words that hold nothing but the truth. She's warm, content, anxious, and eager. This moment one she has little to no experience with, jumping in head first. But he's there with her and somehow, that makes everything seem ok. Better.

He's not without attention, a hand cupping his cheek, thumb stroking against the skin, lip biting her lower one before she pulls him just that closer for another kiss. ]

[twelfth_labour]

[The floor couldn't have been any worse than sleeping on one of the church's pews, though sleep isn't what the choice pertained to. For the air to feel tense there's a use for humor in calming things to a point progressing doesn't become a trudge. Even with their emotional ways down, he takes care in what is said and more so what is done.

The usual singe wakes at the back of his neck, a dim burn from the center of the metal plate out through the scars on his neck. He's use to it, that adverse reaction to touching and being touched. It's become so dull he doesn't concern himself with it unless pain flairs higher. It hasn't yet between them, his caution strict about maintaining control in wake of everything.

Her answer places a knot in his throat and recenters his eyes in time to catch her face dipping in to kiss him. Kissing is hindering them in a funny way. Progression halting because kissing is desired, he of the same fault and cracking a smile at the realization. When breathing demands taking, he parts and presses his forehead to hers to nod.

Then he's moving, lips pressing along the top of her shoulder until they reach the string of her dress to uptake. The action is minute, a lift and fall placing the string closer to falling off her shoulder. In going to the other side he steals another kiss and draws in her lip for a tug. The other strap is moved in the same meticulous manner to loosen the dress about her body for future removal.]

[ablademaiden]

[ A moment between them to last for what feels like an eternity. Gentle, careful, caring. Every touch made to ensure safety for the other without pangs of discomfort clutching at either body. These moments, few as they have been, are often like this. For this, she's thankful, a desire to enjoy him and have him enjoy her as slowly as either will allow.

Emotions are easy to drown in, this moment being no exception to that. Regardless of self-control, of attempts to take things slow, all of that is liable to slip away at any given moment. To give into desire, slip into a hunger accompanied with dear sweet lust, neither are immune to such a thing, even if it's out of the norm for them.

Skin shivers to the touch of his fingers, aware of his curiosity to remove her dress starting with the straps. Scars of a past she can barely remember peek through the top of the dress and she wonders for a moment how he will react with being able to see it like this. This moment is different, softer, it makes her feel vulnerable and open to him in ways she's never felt with another. But there is trust, she has that for him and so she swallows thickly, teeth raking over her lower lip as straps fall down her arms.

To be fair, hands of her own reach out for his arms, wanting to touch him in ways she often can't when with the others. Their moments like this few, she wants to enjoy as much of him as he wants to enjoy her. Ghosting over his skin, finger tips trace along lines of muscles and she nuzzles at his cheek, tender kiss left behind. ]

Don't think I'll break. I'm not that fragile.

[ Words she mutters so close against his skin, conveying to him her own concerns regarding herself and how he might hesitate with her. Thoughts that even she has during this moment regarding him. ]

[twelfth_labour]

[Touching for the longest time didn't conjure of feelings of comfort and care. It took time to reshape his perception, Nill's gentle caresses at time he thought no woman could touch him. He never thought anyone to invade his daily life and be on the end of wanting to touch and returned back. It's a reassuring matter that even he can change with time.

The practiced habits of maintaining control are the same in lust and violence. He hates the implication that the two are related somehow. Only one stirs the hound at the back of his mind, the other pulls crude words instead. The need to hold control and restraint isn't as pressing here, they're giving in on their own terms so he doesn't deem it wrong when both parties are pulling for this.

The scar is missed. Rather he doesn't give it attention yet, the predominant feature painted across her chest is indeed difficult to miss. In terms of physical defects it's nothing. None of her skill or movement is hindered by the two strikes against her skin. Meaning is all that concerns him of her scars.

He halts curious of her actions, the rise of her hands and nuzzle telling that all is fine calming the bubbling persistent worry. They're words he doesn't smile or laugh to, fragility is a real worry. She is strong, but he's capable of being stronger; tender kisses pulling from drowning in said worry.]

I know. I want to be careful.

[He slips away from her shoulders to look at her eyes from his lowered position. It's but a second before he's back to running his hand up her leg in rising it higher on her body.]

[ablademaiden]

[ Measures of care he takes don't go unnoticed. Sweet, though she wouldn't use the word aloud, it calms her mind to know that he cares enough to want things slow, gentle, careful. So easy to throw caution to the wind, give in to carnal desires, allow the beast to take over in a manner of speaking. Not here, not now. Slow and tender to the point of making her feel vulnerable.

But she's safe, so she believes, with him. Should a shred of uncertainty dwell within her, this moment wouldn't be happening. Two figures with opposite mindsets for the most part, somehow, in this moment, fit together so carefully and tenderly in ways no one will ever know nor understand.

A wandering that finds its way up her leg sends shivers through her body, her own hand grasping at a bicep. Eyes fall shut, lips part, a gentle gasp spills from her lips. Touching and yet barely doing a thing at the same time. Anticipation for what's to come flooding not only her mind but her body as well. It shows with how it responds to his touches and seems to yearn for more.

Pads of fingers brush over pale skin and eyes flutter open, slowly. Body warm, mouth dry, mind slowly spinning into a haze. She wonders if he notices how he makes her react, makes her feel. He must, she thinks, he's not blind. ]

If I ever need to warm up from the rain again, just touch me, ok?

[ A gentle smile, shy almost, words softly spoken to convey how he makes her feel in this moment. ]

[twelfth_labour]

[Of the instincts embedded in him, he is divided on how natural concern is compared to his blood thirsty tendencies at arms width of breaking into. They're more natural, he's cared longer than he's wanted violence and the two are exclusive unlike other traits he sees the crossing lines between. More important than it being natural is it feeling natural that he takes great care, eyes unable to maintain locked to her body for long before glancing back to her eyes.

Every movement is enough to startle his senses and make him stop. He's put a mental bracer in place of constant pausing, reactions are bound to happen and are normal as these things went. Still the grip to his arm and gasp prove harder to power though getting a pause to look and listen.]

Long as it doesn't burn you.

[The reactions are good and unnerving. He's on edge about what he's doing making the slower pace a most over only a want. Granting a sigh his hand slips higher and picks at her dress to begin lifting it off her body, his other hand coming to the other side as he stands straighter to do so.]

Lift your arms. [It borders on asking permission to remove clothing, his intentions set to second over her words being first in what's to be done. Regardless he can't help but feel some excitement in undressing her giving way to her soft skin and subtle curves he's fallen for in falling for her as a person.]