RONIN
Ronin is running away with himself; the mere possibility of giving himself a moment - giving both of them a second to breathe - is quickly burning away all rational thought. The Star is almost drunk with it, touch starved as he has been, and Remi literally suggested something like this mere hours ago. He’s already reaching out to brush a lock of fair hair out of Amalia’s face, tucking it behind her ear so he’s better able to see her.
”No, it— we’re fine,” he says, trying to force his mind away from the curve of her body and the flush of her cheeks so he can better explain himself; a difficult thing when all the blood has started to rush elsewhere. ”Remi and I are... it’s an open thing,” he just about manages. Already Ronin is moving closer, and since her fingers are gripped firmly against the counter, his hands run over her hips, up the length of her back, gentle by choice rather than by preference.
”Gods, Ama.” He laughs under his breath, sidling up behind her enough that he’s quite sure she’ll feel his interest. ”How could you ever think that someone wouldn’t want you?”
”No, it— we’re fine,” he says, trying to force his mind away from the curve of her body and the flush of her cheeks so he can better explain himself; a difficult thing when all the blood has started to rush elsewhere. ”Remi and I are... it’s an open thing,” he just about manages. Already Ronin is moving closer, and since her fingers are gripped firmly against the counter, his hands run over her hips, up the length of her back, gentle by choice rather than by preference.
”Gods, Ama.” He laughs under his breath, sidling up behind her enough that he’s quite sure she’ll feel his interest. ”How could you ever think that someone wouldn’t want you?”
one more wish for you
