Hotaru
nothing's fair in love and war
Each moment that passes he relaxes further, the lingering tension revealing itself to be sources for her to work on. Every long exhale and incremental dip of his head against his arms is a victory, and though her ministrations did not lack confidence before, Deimos' reactions bolster her regardless. The garbled laugh-grunt combo that she wrings out of him has her own slipping out, hushed from where she tries to swallow it down unsuccessfully. At least he isn't fighting it now. She'll take what she can get. Not that it stops her from fondly rolling her eyes as he seizes when she dips beneath his waistband, keeping her hands steady instead of yanking them back from his skin. There are no reprimands, no chiding or clucking of her tongue. He is allowed his boundaries, his nerves, and she won't point out or condemn his reaction. At the very least he settles back down when it becomes apparent she's not intending to do anything untoward, allowing Hotaru to continue her work unimpeded.
She hums thoughtfully at his response, taking a moment to move higher up his spine into his midback - back to square one, pushing away from his spine, to be followed by her knuckles the same as his lowerback - and considers her response before giving it freely. "Yes, I did. Shallow as those bonds were, they were not nonexistent." Though their faces and names are already fading, deemed useless in some way by her brain and summarily in the process of being discarded. "Do you think we will try love again, Deimos?" Spoken after a long moment of silence, it is a vulnerable question that is delivered in a hushed tone like a secret shared. Relatively free of any emotions such as hope, dread, or despair. Curious not just for herself, but for him as well; wanting to see him happy as he'd been with Amalia, but in a more eternal way.
