[Perhaps it was cruel of her to do that... when she does it because she knows it will distract him. It distracts her, too. He has... good hands. Despite his status, they are an archer's hands, like hers. They are strong for a human. He smells good.
And to cover her lack of answer when he gently pushes for one... She goes back to it. She'd neglected his little finger, his thumb... and then she is just pressing his knuckles to her lips, silencing herself, her eye lidded and half-hidden by the dark hood of her lashes.
What can she give him, that is still true but is not... that? It takes her a while, but finally,]
... I have failed at several things I wished to do, coming here.
[Her words whisper warm breath and hints of her lips against his skin. Her cheeks are still ruddy. Her hair is still disheveled from sleep.
And the answer is still honest, even if it wasn't everything.]
[You haven't failed at anything, is what he wants to say instinctively, but he knows it would be a reflexive response born of the way she looks right now. The way she's kissing him. The way he feels so hopelessly, stupidly, paralysing all thought...
But-- no. He forces himself to focus on what she's saying, his soft expression faltering a little.]
How did you fail?
[He asks it in a soft murmur. Just coming here, spending time with him, not fleeing or denying-- wasn't that enough?]
[She does not really want to tell him, because failure is not something she has ever been conditioned to accept or view as anything but shameful, no matter how small or petty the failure. But his voice is soft, he entreats her for an answer…]
… I meant not to bring up anything we would fight about.
[The ambassadors movement, whether or not his intent to come to her world was believable to her…]
I did not mean to make you feel as if you needed comfort me.
[Her brother, Liem Talbott…]
I meant to…
[She bites her lip, and the pink color on her cheeks grows darker, her eye averting, her forelegs curling with a soft click of hoof on hoof. She’d thought… he deserved some sort of proof of her intent, perhaps a reward for… for dealing with her… something that would make up for the month she had left him waiting for word? (And maybe she had wanted to see for herself, if she-) She didn’t know-
And her eye shifts back to look at him, struggling to just say it-]
… Do more.
[Her lips press again to his knuckles, her gaze averting again.]
But... it's okay. I want to talk about things with you. Even if it's difficult, or painful, I can get to know you better. If I want to comfort you, that's my choice, too.
[She didn't make him respond that way. He simply cared as a matter of course, and it's better than the alternative of discussing nothing at all. One of his legs moves to settle against a foreleg, as if to offer further comfort, more of his presence.]
Let's just take things a little at a time. You can come back here whenever you want, and I'll be here. [So anything she wants to say, do, express... She can do it when she's ready. This isn't like when he kissed her under the tree, when he thought there had been no time for anything at all, to explain himself. She can take things as slowly as she needs.]
[It is still a little difficult for her to believe that he truly want to, that such things were "okay", even after all he has done to try and prove it to her. If she could just trust that people said only what they truly meant, that he did... But experience has taught her very differently. When she'd been holding his shard she'd been sure, because she'd had to be... But she isn't going to ask for it again.
She can't just ask for it every time she doubts.
For a while, she doesn't say anything, lapsing again into the silence that says... She does not know what to say, and yet she is possessed of enough desire not to ruin things that she refuses to let herself just snap or defensively react. (Trying. She is trying.) Eventually, though... She lays a last little kiss to his knuckles and nuzzles back into the pillow, heedless of the light now streaming in through the window.]
... Stay here.
[In bed, where she never lingers, always rising early and plainly and business-like to begin the day and fill it with duties to keep her mind from wandering or despairing. But this morning...]
Just for a little while. Until we must rise to eat.
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leicesters) wrote2022-12-06 08:26 pm
no subject
And to cover her lack of answer when he gently pushes for one... She goes back to it. She'd neglected his little finger, his thumb... and then she is just pressing his knuckles to her lips, silencing herself, her eye lidded and half-hidden by the dark hood of her lashes.
What can she give him, that is still true but is not... that? It takes her a while, but finally,]
... I have failed at several things I wished to do, coming here.
[Her words whisper warm breath and hints of her lips against his skin. Her cheeks are still ruddy. Her hair is still disheveled from sleep.
And the answer is still honest, even if it wasn't everything.]
no subject
But-- no. He forces himself to focus on what she's saying, his soft expression faltering a little.]
How did you fail?
[He asks it in a soft murmur. Just coming here, spending time with him, not fleeing or denying-- wasn't that enough?]
no subject
… I meant not to bring up anything we would fight about.
[The ambassadors movement, whether or not his intent to come to her world was believable to her…]
I did not mean to make you feel as if you needed comfort me.
[Her brother, Liem Talbott…]
I meant to…
[She bites her lip, and the pink color on her cheeks grows darker, her eye averting, her forelegs curling with a soft click of hoof on hoof. She’d thought… he deserved some sort of proof of her intent, perhaps a reward for… for dealing with her… something that would make up for the month she had left him waiting for word? (And maybe she had wanted to see for herself, if she-) She didn’t know-
And her eye shifts back to look at him, struggling to just say it-]
… Do more.
[Her lips press again to his knuckles, her gaze averting again.]
no subject
[She didn't make him respond that way. He simply cared as a matter of course, and it's better than the alternative of discussing nothing at all. One of his legs moves to settle against a foreleg, as if to offer further comfort, more of his presence.]
Let's just take things a little at a time. You can come back here whenever you want, and I'll be here. [So anything she wants to say, do, express... She can do it when she's ready. This isn't like when he kissed her under the tree, when he thought there had been no time for anything at all, to explain himself. She can take things as slowly as she needs.]
no subject
She can't just ask for it every time she doubts.
For a while, she doesn't say anything, lapsing again into the silence that says... She does not know what to say, and yet she is possessed of enough desire not to ruin things that she refuses to let herself just snap or defensively react. (Trying. She is trying.) Eventually, though... She lays a last little kiss to his knuckles and nuzzles back into the pillow, heedless of the light now streaming in through the window.]
... Stay here.
[In bed, where she never lingers, always rising early and plainly and business-like to begin the day and fill it with duties to keep her mind from wandering or despairing. But this morning...]
Just for a little while. Until we must rise to eat.