CHULANE
He didn't know how much food was left on the plates anymore - suddenly such a trivial thing did not seem important to him anymore. All he had eyes for was her, her and current position of his hand.
Though layers of cloth separated his hand from touching her skin directly, the mere feel of her was enough to set the man on edge, to rivet his attention to her, to focus on her reaction, her response. And it was positive - overwhelmingly so, as the bond resounded with her words and emotions. He felt them across the bond, felt them mingle and merge with his own, a swirling miasma within him, and he so wanted to do the same in return, to share and revel in this new level of intimacy they had reached.
His hand decidedly moved further up, tracing around the curve of her hip to eventually land in the small of her back, as he leaned his lips to her ear. "I'm ready for dessert whenever you are," he whispered, so near to her that his lips no doubt brushed against her cheek - a cheek he then pressed another kiss against.
Putting down his fork, and taking a final swig of water from his cup, he rose from their table, assisting her with putting on all of the layers they would need to survive the bitter cold outside. He only birlefly left her side to return the dishes back to the kitchens, for such manners were so ingrained in him, and he was able to bear the jeers they made at him only because she was there, waiting for him.
They headed to the door together, and an idea struck him, though he wanted her input before he went ahead with it. He paused at the doorway, his hand resting on the knob, smirking at her. "Up for a race? I hear some cat species can run quite fast."
Though layers of cloth separated his hand from touching her skin directly, the mere feel of her was enough to set the man on edge, to rivet his attention to her, to focus on her reaction, her response. And it was positive - overwhelmingly so, as the bond resounded with her words and emotions. He felt them across the bond, felt them mingle and merge with his own, a swirling miasma within him, and he so wanted to do the same in return, to share and revel in this new level of intimacy they had reached.
His hand decidedly moved further up, tracing around the curve of her hip to eventually land in the small of her back, as he leaned his lips to her ear. "I'm ready for dessert whenever you are," he whispered, so near to her that his lips no doubt brushed against her cheek - a cheek he then pressed another kiss against.
Putting down his fork, and taking a final swig of water from his cup, he rose from their table, assisting her with putting on all of the layers they would need to survive the bitter cold outside. He only birlefly left her side to return the dishes back to the kitchens, for such manners were so ingrained in him, and he was able to bear the jeers they made at him only because she was there, waiting for him.
They headed to the door together, and an idea struck him, though he wanted her input before he went ahead with it. He paused at the doorway, his hand resting on the knob, smirking at her. "Up for a race? I hear some cat species can run quite fast."
it is better to know some of the questions
than all of the answers
than all of the answers
