Amalia
the shield of safrin
she does not know what it's like
not to have deep emotions
not to have deep emotions
Amalia scarcely registers the wings until he notes them, but the feeling of his palm against against the tawny feathers has her shivering anew. It's nothing compared to the admiration in his tone, though, the clear appreciation for features that the Shield would never have thought to note in herself. "You're not bad, either," she huffs out playfully, leaning forward for another kiss-
-and finding him gone in an unexpected turn. A sharp gasp of protest leaves her lips, aching in this briefest absence, already missing his heat. Before she can do anything about it Ronin's hands are on her hips, lifting her off the cool bathroom counter and turning her suddenly around.
And here, too, is a new experience- more than one, in fact. Never has she been treated so brusquely, never has she been taken from behind. The sight of herself in the mirror is jarring, and Amalia scarcely recognizes the woman who stares back. Her cheeks are flush, her dark eyes hooded, and the wings that stretch out from her shoulders make her think, in a brief blaze of confusion, of Finn.
Then she meets Ronin's eyes in their reflections and the thought drifts away, tucked somewhere in the back of her mind. He picks up his pace and she keeps her gaze forward, gripping tight against the counter and gasping at the sight of her own body, of his, of the way they move and the way he must see her, as something to be wanted and taken. "Fuck, Ronin," Amalia hisses. "I'm going to- You're gonna make me-"
She doesn't. But she's close.
-and finding him gone in an unexpected turn. A sharp gasp of protest leaves her lips, aching in this briefest absence, already missing his heat. Before she can do anything about it Ronin's hands are on her hips, lifting her off the cool bathroom counter and turning her suddenly around.
And here, too, is a new experience- more than one, in fact. Never has she been treated so brusquely, never has she been taken from behind. The sight of herself in the mirror is jarring, and Amalia scarcely recognizes the woman who stares back. Her cheeks are flush, her dark eyes hooded, and the wings that stretch out from her shoulders make her think, in a brief blaze of confusion, of Finn.
Then she meets Ronin's eyes in their reflections and the thought drifts away, tucked somewhere in the back of her mind. He picks up his pace and she keeps her gaze forward, gripping tight against the counter and gasping at the sight of her own body, of his, of the way they move and the way he must see her, as something to be wanted and taken. "Fuck, Ronin," Amalia hisses. "I'm going to- You're gonna make me-"
She doesn't. But she's close.
even when she feels nothing
she feels it completely
she feels it completely
