[He moves her with such ease, and Tifa can feel the strength in his grip as he shifts them further up until she's on her back. Her chest rises and falls as she tries to steal back the breaths he had taken from her, as she stares up at him with reddened lips and eyes heavy with both wanting and trepidation. She can still admire how he looks above her, his hair cascading over his face and onto hers, and how his blue eyes seem to darken under the weight of a hundred reflected emotions, unknown and terrifying and exhilarating all at the same time.
She's scared, and he'll be able to see it, but when he lowers his lips back to hers again, all that fear and doubt is swept back by the electricity his touches send through her, as if he were imbuing her with his magic. It's a feeling so faraway, but it brings her back to the moment they had shared in the cave, where the smallest buds of it had started—tiny traces of this intense heat that wound itself up inside her that are now bursting through her now threadbare conviction.
She held on for as long as she could, and maybe she could have a little longer, but the way her hands skim over the planes of his back, and how his lips feel on hers... Even the sturdiest, most determined souls can come undone by it. These more instinctual urges only make her want to take more and wish that he would do the same.
She does, for as long as their bodies will allow. It's gentle, tender, slow, but she can feel the gravity of those thousand unknown emotions weighing down on them both—that need for comfort and the search for something to fill those lonely voids, but there was something else there, too. Through all of those hardships and tense moments, between those lingering stares and stretches of silence, there had been something else that had built up—it was almost carnal in nature, heated but mesmerizing... Something that needed to be resolved in a way only being this close to one another could.
And still, Tifa remains so very careful about it. It's still delicate, and whatever there is that had grown between them could still easily be broken. Even if this is just a spur of the moment, one-time thing in a pursuit of comfort, she doesn't want to break that frayed thread that still somehow held them together.
How long had passed, she has no idea, but by the end of it all, her head is filled only with him. His voice, how his name had rolled off his tongue and his from hers, the trails of heat his fingertips had left, and the sound of his breathing as she lays her head down next to his at long last, her body sheened in sweat, and her legs untangling from his to wrap up in the messy sheets.
How much longer is it that she lays in silence to catch her breath, and it's then that she catches herself admiring him again. She looks away, her lips parting to speak, but...
What in the world is she even supposed to say now?]
no subject
She's scared, and he'll be able to see it, but when he lowers his lips back to hers again, all that fear and doubt is swept back by the electricity his touches send through her, as if he were imbuing her with his magic. It's a feeling so faraway, but it brings her back to the moment they had shared in the cave, where the smallest buds of it had started—tiny traces of this intense heat that wound itself up inside her that are now bursting through her now threadbare conviction.
She held on for as long as she could, and maybe she could have a little longer, but the way her hands skim over the planes of his back, and how his lips feel on hers... Even the sturdiest, most determined souls can come undone by it. These more instinctual urges only make her want to take more and wish that he would do the same.
She does, for as long as their bodies will allow. It's gentle, tender, slow, but she can feel the gravity of those thousand unknown emotions weighing down on them both—that need for comfort and the search for something to fill those lonely voids, but there was something else there, too. Through all of those hardships and tense moments, between those lingering stares and stretches of silence, there had been something else that had built up—it was almost carnal in nature, heated but mesmerizing... Something that needed to be resolved in a way only being this close to one another could.
And still, Tifa remains so very careful about it. It's still delicate, and whatever there is that had grown between them could still easily be broken. Even if this is just a spur of the moment, one-time thing in a pursuit of comfort, she doesn't want to break that frayed thread that still somehow held them together.
How long had passed, she has no idea, but by the end of it all, her head is filled only with him. His voice, how his name had rolled off his tongue and his from hers, the trails of heat his fingertips had left, and the sound of his breathing as she lays her head down next to his at long last, her body sheened in sweat, and her legs untangling from his to wrap up in the messy sheets.
How much longer is it that she lays in silence to catch her breath, and it's then that she catches herself admiring him again. She looks away, her lips parting to speak, but...
What in the world is she even supposed to say now?]