( The shift in atmosphere is hard to ignore, the weight settling and the change between them noticeable with his desire to leave — feeling suffocated, desperate for fresh air — and her reluctance to let him go despite the remorse prickling at her heart as his hand rests against her side, a silent indication of his wish to depart before the words leave his lips.
It is voracious to want him longer, knowing that the chances of their discovery increase as they approach dawn.
There is reluctant defiance as she lingers against him instead of moving away to allow him to leave. She leans into him again, allowing the weight of her body to press into him — forehead coming to rest against his as she basks in the moment. Putting to memory how it feels to be with him, so she can recall it when her bed is empty, and she longs for his presence. )
Of course, ( she finally says, the reluctance thick on her tongue as she takes another kiss before rolling away to sit at the edge of the bed. Outstretching her fingers, she grabs ahold of her robes and pulls them around her, the coolness of the fabric a drastic different than the warmth of him she felt moments before. ) Though I wish you could stay.
( Would stay, is what she wants to stay, but she understands that she cannot keep him here forever.
She glances at him from over her shoulder, a slight knit to her brow. That ache is still present in her chest, caused by the connection she made ( the one he wishes she would have remained oblivious to if it weren't for the slip of his tongue, but it is a connection she would have made eventually or maybe even something she always knew but chose to ignore and bury beneath the weight of her own miserable loneliness. It wasn't the right thing to do, leaving her children feeling a void where she should have been, but it was what she needed to do to endure and survive. ) and the desire to have him stay.
It isn't that she doesn't see him as he is now and sees him as the boy who once buried himself in her embrace — it's that she notices that she wasn't alone in her misery. While there was often a detached void where she should have been, she hopes that being present now will make up for some of it. For the first time in what felt like forever, she wants this arrangement between them more than anything else and has the ambition to make it last. )
Shall I see you come tomorrow, or would another day be better to visit the Dragonpit?
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It is voracious to want him longer, knowing that the chances of their discovery increase as they approach dawn.
There is reluctant defiance as she lingers against him instead of moving away to allow him to leave. She leans into him again, allowing the weight of her body to press into him — forehead coming to rest against his as she basks in the moment. Putting to memory how it feels to be with him, so she can recall it when her bed is empty, and she longs for his presence. )
Of course, ( she finally says, the reluctance thick on her tongue as she takes another kiss before rolling away to sit at the edge of the bed. Outstretching her fingers, she grabs ahold of her robes and pulls them around her, the coolness of the fabric a drastic different than the warmth of him she felt moments before. ) Though I wish you could stay.
( Would stay, is what she wants to stay, but she understands that she cannot keep him here forever.
She glances at him from over her shoulder, a slight knit to her brow. That ache is still present in her chest, caused by the connection she made ( the one he wishes she would have remained oblivious to if it weren't for the slip of his tongue, but it is a connection she would have made eventually or maybe even something she always knew but chose to ignore and bury beneath the weight of her own miserable loneliness. It wasn't the right thing to do, leaving her children feeling a void where she should have been, but it was what she needed to do to endure and survive. ) and the desire to have him stay.
It isn't that she doesn't see him as he is now and sees him as the boy who once buried himself in her embrace — it's that she notices that she wasn't alone in her misery. While there was often a detached void where she should have been, she hopes that being present now will make up for some of it. For the first time in what felt like forever, she wants this arrangement between them more than anything else and has the ambition to make it last. )
Shall I see you come tomorrow, or would another day be better to visit the Dragonpit?