Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words
Not even bothering to hide her pleasure over the abject refusal to part even for the few minutes it would take to wash up, Maea could only nod and accept Liam's ministrations. Sure, she could have heated the bathwater with her magic, but why would she when he took such pride in caring for her? It was an amusing irony that the only conflict running between them was of who could outlove the other. Today, she was inclined to accept Liam as the victor in that tug of war; surrendering not because she didn't have a choice, but because she was capable of accepting his love in all its forms. Getting tired of my own words
Dragging herself up from the floor to sit on the edge of the tub, as water thundered into the basin she was vaguely aware that Liam left the room for a moment, though didn't question why. Not right away. The water held her attention, the rising surface watched with beady eyes clinging to threadbare patience. And when she was able to get in... it was like sinking into a warm embrace. Swinging one leg at a time over the edge, the slender woman slid into the water with nary a ripple or slosh, and let out a slow, heartfelt sigh as the heat seeped into her limbs.
"Times like these I'm glad to be short," she murmured, melting into the bath but leaving ample room still for Liam to fit in with her. And if they'd have to tangle limbs or wound up glued together again? All the better. Maea didn't feel right unless they touched, nor did she care to examine that aching need for warning signs just now.
"Help me wash my back?" For once the invitation to touch her didn't hold much suggestive subtext; nothing but a simple wish to be taken care of, just for a little bit longer.
Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself
through the loudness of my own hurts
through the loudness of my own hurts
base inspired by Odd <3
