04-29-2021, 09:26 AM
fair warning - this post involves mentions of hips
Mazikeen
There is some hazy, distant part of Mazikeen’s mind that tells her it shouldn’t matter so much to her what Gale thinks of her. But it does. And when he moves to follow her as she pulls back, relief floods through her. This is quickly becoming one of her favourite things - when one of them prolongs the contact by moving with the other. She should not need this reassurance, that distant part would tell her, but she wants it anyway - and wants to offer it to him in kind when she does the same thing.
It does not take much effort on his part to soothe away her worries - another thing, perhaps, that she should try to work on but, in this moment, she does not care. She spent too long beating herself up for caring for him, too long convincing herself he thought nothing of her, that his touch is still a delight. Carrying with it small doses of surprise and relief each time. Her delight shines in her orange eyes at his laughter and comment about not wanting to risk his skin offering her protection - she preferred that over the idea that she couldn’t do anything on her own.
As an excuse to keep him with her, she absolutely would have gone out to pick a fight though she is not disappointed to discover that she does not need an excuse.
“I’d like that.” She manages to breathe out about an entity, and the free time it would give them, before a pleasant shiver courses through her body as he makes small circles on her skin.
And though Mazikeen could stand there all day while Gale touched her, she wants to share some of the delight making her heart race wildly in her chest. So she moves, ghosting kisses along his jaw, his neck, his sides - tracing the scars and brindling revealed there without his wings. She stays so close that with each slow step, her hip brushes against him and they are never not in contact as she makes her way around, taking her time. There’s a gentle tug on his tail, a ruffling of the short mane that grows down his back, before she starts up his other side with the same attentiveness. Whatever words she might have said in that moment fade away into a sweet fog when she looks away from his iridescent skin and into his bright eyes again.
Worries try to creep in even now about whether she's something wrong or unenjoyable - so she forces those thoughts to get lost in the fog as well. She can only hope her response is clear enough without words - that her touch and the smile she offers him says it all - she enjoys how they’ve been spending their spare time too. Very much so.
It does not take much effort on his part to soothe away her worries - another thing, perhaps, that she should try to work on but, in this moment, she does not care. She spent too long beating herself up for caring for him, too long convincing herself he thought nothing of her, that his touch is still a delight. Carrying with it small doses of surprise and relief each time. Her delight shines in her orange eyes at his laughter and comment about not wanting to risk his skin offering her protection - she preferred that over the idea that she couldn’t do anything on her own.
As an excuse to keep him with her, she absolutely would have gone out to pick a fight though she is not disappointed to discover that she does not need an excuse.
“I’d like that.” She manages to breathe out about an entity, and the free time it would give them, before a pleasant shiver courses through her body as he makes small circles on her skin.
And though Mazikeen could stand there all day while Gale touched her, she wants to share some of the delight making her heart race wildly in her chest. So she moves, ghosting kisses along his jaw, his neck, his sides - tracing the scars and brindling revealed there without his wings. She stays so close that with each slow step, her hip brushes against him and they are never not in contact as she makes her way around, taking her time. There’s a gentle tug on his tail, a ruffling of the short mane that grows down his back, before she starts up his other side with the same attentiveness. Whatever words she might have said in that moment fade away into a sweet fog when she looks away from his iridescent skin and into his bright eyes again.
Worries try to creep in even now about whether she's something wrong or unenjoyable - so she forces those thoughts to get lost in the fog as well. She can only hope her response is clear enough without words - that her touch and the smile she offers him says it all - she enjoys how they’ve been spending their spare time too. Very much so.
@[Gale]