Maeve
Deeper and deeper they go, forcing her up onto her tip toes until her feet can no longer touch the bottom. They kick erratically and the beat of her heart ratchets up, thundering in her ears as her breaths quicken, "Jata..." Trepidation clear in her voice as she looks at the water, unable to see anything but the faint outline of her legs. He pulls her forward as her fingers squeeze his until her knuckles turn ghostly with her grip. There isn't any resistance even as water sloshes up against her jaw and she raises her chin, but he guides her towards his chest and suddenly their is no space between them. Instead it's the warmth of his skin that's been tempered by the cool waves and his grip keeping her secure as water tries to work between their bodies.
If she wasn't so anxious she'd be more aware of the way her breasts press against his chest or how sheer her top has become as water soaks into the fabric. Except she's torn between looking up at him and down at the water. The ends of her hair swirl lightly around her shoulders, inky strands somehow made darker as the curls become weighed down. "I'm not going to freak out. You don't freak out." Disregard the fact that there is nothing for him to freak out about. She's absolutely trying her best and she's not as witty out here as she is on dry land.
To her credit, she doesn't freak out more than she already is. When her feet kick they don't brush against his legs anymore, but instead the smooth skin of his orca shift. A soft noise of surprise rises in her throat and if he wasn't holding on to her she might have slipped beneath the waves. She doesn't and his hold on her never wavers. Maeve looks up at him, green eyes still wide, but her breathing is starting to slow the the knowledge that he isn't going to let her go. She swallows thickly, drawing in a shaky breath as her body slowly acclimates to the way the waves make them bob up and down in their wake. "T-this isn't so bad." Maeve says softly, looking back up at him. There are a few beads of water clinging to her lashes like dew drops on the petal of a flower. A barely there smile tugs at the corners of her lips.
If she wasn't so anxious she'd be more aware of the way her breasts press against his chest or how sheer her top has become as water soaks into the fabric. Except she's torn between looking up at him and down at the water. The ends of her hair swirl lightly around her shoulders, inky strands somehow made darker as the curls become weighed down. "I'm not going to freak out. You don't freak out." Disregard the fact that there is nothing for him to freak out about. She's absolutely trying her best and she's not as witty out here as she is on dry land.
To her credit, she doesn't freak out more than she already is. When her feet kick they don't brush against his legs anymore, but instead the smooth skin of his orca shift. A soft noise of surprise rises in her throat and if he wasn't holding on to her she might have slipped beneath the waves. She doesn't and his hold on her never wavers. Maeve looks up at him, green eyes still wide, but her breathing is starting to slow the the knowledge that he isn't going to let her go. She swallows thickly, drawing in a shaky breath as her body slowly acclimates to the way the waves make them bob up and down in their wake. "T-this isn't so bad." Maeve says softly, looking back up at him. There are a few beads of water clinging to her lashes like dew drops on the petal of a flower. A barely there smile tugs at the corners of her lips.
These violent delights
Have violent ends
Have violent ends
