Hotaru
Zeus has crafted you from clay and gold
She can tell by the way he immediately stops that he is assuming all the wrong things, but with her face in his chest she can't tell if her minced words are clearing it up at all. Not until he gently touches her face, encouraging her to look at him. For a moment that dark, oily thing inside her rears its head and wants to refuse, not only to keep this vulnerable part of her private but also to prove to herself that he can't make her do it. Can't force her to share this emotional moment with him.
But she does, because what the actual fuck. And he says everything right, putting any worries she had about telling him to stop at ease. But that sick, scared feeling doesn't go away entirely. Instead it burrows deep like a thorn. Out of sight, but not out of mind.
"Thank you," she whispers. For stopping. For understanding. She isn't sure which she means. But she still leans up to kiss him gently, and gives a tentative smile. "I hope it won't ruin the rest of our day?" Hotaru still wants to spend it with him, doesn't want this to be the only thing he remembers when she has planned so much of their date in advance.
But she does, because what the actual fuck. And he says everything right, putting any worries she had about telling him to stop at ease. But that sick, scared feeling doesn't go away entirely. Instead it burrows deep like a thorn. Out of sight, but not out of mind.
"Thank you," she whispers. For stopping. For understanding. She isn't sure which she means. But she still leans up to kiss him gently, and gives a tentative smile. "I hope it won't ruin the rest of our day?" Hotaru still wants to spend it with him, doesn't want this to be the only thing he remembers when she has planned so much of their date in advance.
Such a lovely, pretty hand to hold - if you had the time
