Hotaru
nothing's fair in love and war
Hotaru is no stranger to triggers, or the trauma that can surface because of them. Admittedly if she knew this event itself was one to Maea, she would not have been so lackadaisical about it all. Sex, to Hotaru, is an easy thing. Physicality, connection. Without any ties or intentions, for someone like her of course, but ultimately harmless pleasure. So when the easy buzz and hum of her own is interrupted by the sharp static of the disconnect as Maea lurches away, the Valkyrie is understandably disoriented and wrong-footed, trying to blink past the muzzy haze of euphoria to care enough to figure out what's happening. The wound that's left on her wrist is a bit deeper from the sharp pull away than normal, but the woman doesn't even bother to clasp a hand over it before she's reaching for Maea, blood trickling down the tanned length of her forearm as a crease forms between her brows. "Maea? Darling it's okay," she defaults into a comfort perhaps more maternal than the moment deserves, hands reaching for the pale woman and letting perfectly controlled sparks come to her fingertips. She cannot squeeze or exert pressure that would otherwise distract the girl, but she can do this. "Here, focus on my hands. How many fingers are static?" As she speaks she steps close, letting only her fingertips reach for Maea's bare arms - unwilling to crowd a clearly disturbed woman when she has no basis for what had sparked the reaction.
