[ unmoored had been an understatement, in hindsight. his ruminating leaves her drowning in uncertainty, submerged in tension, for all that she understands his weighted pause. a once-caged creature will always be apprehensive of catching itself in another snare, after all. to be tethered to another so willingly, to make a choice that is neither influenced by their former jailers or the outside influence currently squirming around in their skull —
it's no easy decision, no easy task to navigate their uncharted freedoms, no easy challenge to trust himself not to fall into the maw of the same traps. a wave of remorse threatens to ripple through her in a surging tide, the longer the empty air between them stretches on, the longer it allows her too much room to reflect on his origins. the last hand that had stretched toward him, that had promised a choice, had been the same hand used to subjugate him, to hand him the length of rope needed to hang himself by.
and yet here she stands, asking for what must be nearly impossible.
her pulse shuffles restlessly, ricocheting around in her chest. there's something to be said for the small brush of a relieved exhale against his artery, once his answer carries itself to her on the wings of that whisper. it's a sort of power over her she hadn't anticipated, nor planned for — that innate ability to leave her drifting, or anchor her back into herself, into a moment, with just the magic of a word. which, she supposes, equalizes the scales between them, their trust balanced in one another's hands. ]
When I dream of what that path must look like, it's as blurry as the past. But once the future is clear to me, you'll be the first to know.
[ it's a wistful little confession, as tinged by warmth as such a vow is. it must, she thinks, appear the same to the rest of them — their futures indistinct silhouettes in the distance, the lives they had once envisioned for themselves slipping away for better (herself) and for worse (astarion).
she shifts upward, noses her way into his cheek. the heat of her breath lingers there, sparing her the embarrassment of such an invitation, and the (however slim she believes it to be, now) potential for rejection, when she continues in a hinting murmur, ]
I've heard there are methods of sealing such important promises.
[ sealed with a kiss is a expression for a reason. still, there's nothing quite expectant about it — just an anticipatory offer of interest, a little less confidence in herself. a funny thing, she knows, in clashing contrast to every filthy promise she'd made. ]
no subject
it's no easy decision, no easy task to navigate their uncharted freedoms, no easy challenge to trust himself not to fall into the maw of the same traps. a wave of remorse threatens to ripple through her in a surging tide, the longer the empty air between them stretches on, the longer it allows her too much room to reflect on his origins. the last hand that had stretched toward him, that had promised a choice, had been the same hand used to subjugate him, to hand him the length of rope needed to hang himself by.
and yet here she stands, asking for what must be nearly impossible.
her pulse shuffles restlessly, ricocheting around in her chest. there's something to be said for the small brush of a relieved exhale against his artery, once his answer carries itself to her on the wings of that whisper. it's a sort of power over her she hadn't anticipated, nor planned for — that innate ability to leave her drifting, or anchor her back into herself, into a moment, with just the magic of a word. which, she supposes, equalizes the scales between them, their trust balanced in one another's hands. ]
When I dream of what that path must look like, it's as blurry as the past. But once the future is clear to me, you'll be the first to know.
[ it's a wistful little confession, as tinged by warmth as such a vow is. it must, she thinks, appear the same to the rest of them — their futures indistinct silhouettes in the distance, the lives they had once envisioned for themselves slipping away for better (herself) and for worse (astarion).
she shifts upward, noses her way into his cheek. the heat of her breath lingers there, sparing her the embarrassment of such an invitation, and the (however slim she believes it to be, now) potential for rejection, when she continues in a hinting murmur, ]
I've heard there are methods of sealing such important promises.
[ sealed with a kiss is a expression for a reason. still, there's nothing quite expectant about it — just an anticipatory offer of interest, a little less confidence in herself. a funny thing, she knows, in clashing contrast to every filthy promise she'd made. ]