songerein | open 🌠 you see the shadows

Entry tags:

open 🌠 you see the shadows

Who: Tifa Lockhart & you!
Which: Open log + interactive dream
Where: Around Reverein, Mount Nibel
What: Mount Nibel Incident dream, and a couple of dream board postings.
Warnings: N/A for now

✨ i. "the day mom died..." — interactive dream

[There's a winding, rocky path overlooking the town of Nibelheim below, but where it should be clear, the mountain the path leads up is shrouded in a fog that only grows thicker with each passing moment, with what the eyes can see morphing and twisting in and out of view, almost as if the entire landscape isn't sure what it should be. There's an unshakable sound of static in the air, and a rumbling underfoot that isn't too threatening, but it's noticeable enough that it makes itself known.

On one ledge of the path up the mountain are four children. Three boys, whose faces fade in and out of clarity, and a girl with long, dark-brown hair, all looking up at the mountain as they talk, but their words are cut out by the static.]

"Mt. Nibel is scary. Many people have—there."

"—one crosses that—alive."

[The girl turns to face them all, revealing a much younger Tifa, not a day older than nine-years.]

"How about—died? Did—pass through—?" [Tifa wanders past the boys watching her, up the path.] "I'm—"

[Two boys follow while one runs the other way, threatening to bump into any dreamwalkers as he rushes back in the direction of the town. If Tifa is followed, they'll reach a bridge that she crosses fearlessly and without a word, but like the rest of the mountain, it fades in and out of view as well. There, the two boys who remain rush off, leaving Tifa to venture up the rest of the mountain alone.

...

But they stop upon seeing someone new. Someone who might be able to help?]

"Please, you have to stop her! It's dangerous up there! We're going to go back down and get Mister Lockhart."

[And off they go together without another word.]

** ( ooc: Because Tifa doesn't remember this event in full, I fully encourage anyone to have your character influence the setting as much or as little as you'd like! )

✨ ii. freeloading reindeer

[Having done some work on the communal gardens already, Tifa's grown handy with a hammer and nails. Not that she wasn't already proficient enough, but there's a difference between fixer-uppers around a bar that she knew like the back of her hand and building wooden flowerbeds and fences, and the latter has allowed her to at least learn some proper techniques in woodworking. Hell, she's even started learning how to sand and polish, so something like this should be a piece of cake.]

There. I think that's the last of it.

[She'd been hauling wood around all morning, the large planks thrown over her shoulder before she sets them down out in the middle of the farm where there's plenty of room to build out. It's nothing but a pile of wood and a bag of tools, and whoever else has come all the way out here with her, and around them, the reindeer will be grazing and curiously watching from afar, still not sure if it's safe to approach.]

So, it was a new stable for them and a fence, right? Gotta say, biggest thing I've ever built was a flowerbed so this'll be new to me.

✨ iii. new year's noctaere

[It is a little terrifying going up against the Noctaere, especially when she knows little of what to expect upon entering the dreamscape, but Tifa was never one to sit back or sit still for very long. Not when there were threats that needed to be taken care of. She might not be the most experienced partner in the dreamscapes, with her skills in dreamotion magic leaving plenty to be desired, but she can pack a punch when needed, and it has come in helpful in a lot of cases.

That isn't to say she's completely useless at magic, but she'd prefer to let her fists and feet do the talking if it came down to it. Which it will.

And just before stumbling into the dreamscape, she looks over to whoever has volunteered for the job with her, and gives a firm nod.]

You ready?

** ( ooc: if you have a preference for the dreamscape, then please let me know in the subject line! Otherwise, I'll randomize which one we end up getting! )

✨ iv. wildcard

[None of these prompts work? You know the wildcard drill! Feel free to leave something else below, or contact me via PM or @ crystariums if you'd like to plot out something! Tifa can be frequently found at the communal gardens, at the edges of the forest training, and just in general wandering around Reverein, so she's easy to bump into. Also okay with any of the dream board postings!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Feeling her relax, he starts to feel more relaxed as well. He sits back a little more, adjusting himself to be a little more comfortable.]

I feel the same.

[Of course, there's a bit of bias since had been born in it, but because of that it also makes him nostalgic and can be bittersweet at times, especially this time of year. ...Come to think of it, that day has long passed, hasn't it? He had completely forgotten about it with everything else happening and not really keeping up with the calendar—if there really is one.

He shakes the thought away as he looks down at Tifa's face, her features barely visible but he can tell she's looking out the window.

...]

Want a closer look?

Hm?

[She looks up at him then, accidentally noticing his gaze and immediately averting hers away when her breath catches in her throat.]

You mean outside? Isn't it a bit late for a walk?

[It's got to be long past midnight now.]

[His brows at her reaction before his eyes glimmer a little in amusement.

Cute.]

No... I was thinking something more like this.

[Eustace holds out his hand and it shimmers as small ice crystals form over his palm. It first coalesces into swirling sphere, and then small sparks of electricity can be seen forming inside. It spins faster and faster before he tosses it up lightly. The sphere expands before bursting upward, the crystals transforming into snowflakes as they slowly cascade down. Infused with the electricity, the sparkle in the darkness, but are harmless when make contact, at most leaving a soft little tingle.]

[She wants to reach out and touch it, but at the same time, she's too taken aback by his show of magic that she can't do much else other than watch as it spins, the electricity inside the little sphere of ice lighting up the room, but then it bursts, and her surprised gasp turns into peals of soft laughter. The snowflakes tickle when they reach her skin and, reaching up to touch one, she discovers that it's already melted away before she could.

It probably doesn't help that her face is burning hot, and it's warming up the otherwise cool air around them, but it won't be enough to harm the magic itself.

Tifa can tell that he's trying... that he's making an effort to feel better...

When all goes dark again, she turns to him and as the last remnants of the sparks fade, her gaze lingers on him—his eyes, his hands, and then down to his lips...

The thought is a fleeting one, but it comes in a single wave that hits her so hard that she almost acts on it. She feels her fingers flex in his direction, but when she feels her lids grow heavy and her lips part, she snaps herself right out of it.]

Looks like you've been practicing.

[Hearing her laugh—he never would have imagined he could feel so strongly about it. It first starts with a flutter in his chest that hitches his breath, and then it ripples all the way down to his abdomen, a ticklish feeling that refuses to immediately leave. It blanks his mind, leaves him defenseless, and in the next moment he wants to reach out and turn her face towards him, to swallow her breath and take it for himself.

It's so strong it burns, and when she turns to him for a moment it reflects in his gaze, how he stares into her own before also drifting to her lips. He had made the decision to not do anything, to keep his distance, to clear his head. He knows that they've been through a series of high tense, emotional events, events that could easily skew their thoughts, their feelings, cloud their judgment.

Rationally he knows all this. And normally he can maintain that. Yet seeing her so close, seeing her own signs that maybe...

There's a tense stretch of silence as he continues to stare down at her, the air seeming to crackle with the rising heat. But then it dims as he ducks his head away, his voice just a quiet murmur.]

...It's still not much.

[Away from the line.]

It's plenty.

[Her response comes immediately—she doesn't want him thinking that whatever he just showed her, she didn't think much of it, or she didn't appreciate it, or that it wasn't impressive. It did what he had intended for it to do, and already, she feels a little better, which is a big step up from where she was minutes ago.

But it hadn't escaped her notice the way he had stared back at her, and it was as if she had been staring straight into her own soul then. His eyes had reflected back all of the things she'd been feeling... or so she thought up until they both pulled themselves out of that moment. She could have just been imagining things, or seeing things she thought she wanted to, but it's dark, and her mind is still foggy from the dream.]

Better than what I can do.

[Tifa lifts her hand, and in her palm, a yellow lily partially blooms. Its petals shudder under the pressure of her emotions, wanting to open up more, but it remains as is, its colour fading slightly with her smile. She offers it to him anyway.]

[He's a little grateful that she's...moving on, as he's not sure if he would be able to keep his resolve if she reached out to him instead. And the flower impresses him...if also makes him internally flinch as he recalls the lily he has locked away in a drawer, the frost that had formed on its petals still coating it. But he takes the one offered to him, anyway, his touch careful.]

...It's still beautiful, and more impressive.

[And then a small pause as he examines it.]

Are these your favorite kind of flower? ...I noticed them appear before.

[On that snowy night.]

Ah...

[How embarrassing...

Tifa wishes she had a little more control over when they appear. She can make them bloom, but she can't stop them... and that's how they ended up cooked into that stir fry. She hasn't forgotten...

Noting how careful he is with it, she does perk up slightly with a sad smile.]

Don't know enough about flowers to say whether they're my favourite, but I think they're pretty. [ ... ] They make me think of friends from home.

[Of Cloud, and Aerith especially. Marlene too, who would make sure to remind Tifa to make sure that the flower had enough water to drink every morning before she started her day.]

I see.

[Reminder of home... It makes sense, and somehow it suits her image as well. Even if the one in his hand is a little pale and not fully open, the bright, yellow color matches her personality. And the ones he had seen that were open had been beautiful, promising.

With the snowflakes twinkling around them, he can see a little more of her, and in a burst of whimsy he pushes some of his own dreamotion into the flower. It turns partially white, the petals now forced open and glittering in the snowflakes that dust it before he holds it up to her hair and tucks it behind her ear.]

It suits you.

[She doesn't even get a chance to take a good look at the flower before he's tucking it behind her ear, and Tifa instinctively bows her head, feeling the cool snowflakes over the side of her face, and... in a reflex move, she leans her cheek into his hand before he can pull it away.

At a loss for words again, Tifa instead reaches up to touch his arm in thanks.

It wasn't all her, though. He was the one who made it bloom, and he was the one who gave it the white colour and the magical snowflakes...

It wasn't just her magic, it was just as much his, too...]

You helped.

[Which, the second she says it, she realizes what those words mean to her and draws back suddenly with a small laugh.]

Got any other tricks up your sleeve you haven't told me about?

[His hand falters when he feels her press against it, and he only barely manages to remove it somewhat naturally, resisting to put it back as his palm warms from where she had touched it. He is doing more than usual, expending effort and care that he normally wouldn't. But he finds he likes seeing her reactions, seeing how much what he does moves her. And how much it's helping her.]

...Depends if you still need them.

[If she still needs them? She doesn't think that she ever did... Having his company is enough to at least ease her mind and keep it off of the dream, but now it wanders back to it when her attention is suddenly dragged back.

Tifa falls silent for a moment, before she shakes her head.]

No, it's okay. You don't have to on my account.

[It's just nice to see what he can do, but expending his energy just to cheer her up isn't what she wanted from him.

She shifts away from him then, sliding further down the bed to better look out the window. The snowflakes have gotten bigger and fluffier since she first spotted them...]

Outside's doing all the magic for us anyway. Look...

[Perhaps it's her own magic at work, but there are little sparkles that look like stars glimmering among the snowflakes, as if painting a sky around them.]

[He only watches when she moves off the bed, her warmth lingering in the empty space beside him. And the way she stands at the window... He shakes off the feeling when she beckons him and he slowly joins her, standing beside her as he peers out the window.

The sight of the falling snow reminds him of how he had taken the snow for granted in the past and how after growing up he had begun to treasure it. A sight he used to see every day now reduced to only a few months sometimes weeks a year depending where he is. Yet most of those times he would be alone, lost in his thoughts, in his memories. However now...

As he glances down at Tifa in front of him, a soft smile forms, a now familiar warmth settling in. And in that same moment, the dark skies brighten in a wash of color, as if a paintbrush has swept through it. It illuminates the sky, the ripples of greens, purples, pinks, and yellows almost dancing with the snow.]

[She doesn't need to point the lights out. They're bright enough that not only would they notice them immediately, but it lights up the room and all of the snow around the tree, splashing the greens and purples and yellows across the white canvas in waves. All she can do is watch the show put on by the sky, lost in awe and bewilderment. For all of the problems this world has, and she has with this world, its magic truly is unmatchable.

When it goes all out, it's no holds barred. Every time.

It'll be silent for a while, the lights sparkling in the reflections of her widened eyes, and she catches herself casting a couple of fleeting glances his way.

Several beats of silence pass before she shifts again, stepping back so that she can swing the window open. The winter air swoops in, but it's brisk and refreshing and not at all overbearing. There's a strange, misplaced scent of flowers carried in with it, but besides that, she's too busy leaning out over the window sill to get a better look at the lights, both the coloured ones and the ones that twinkle among the snow, to care where it could have come from.

Eventually, she breathes in, and exhales with a heavy sigh, releasing as much of that heavy burden from the dream that she could into the night's air.]

What is all this?

[Surely this isn't their doing, is it?]

[Eustace is also a little surprised by the sudden appearance of the lights, but he doesn't know if it's a natural phenomenon or...something else.

So he looks at her, lost in thought for a moment before he steps closer to be more beside her.]

...Does it matter?

[Does it matter if it's from the world itself or born from their feelings?]

It's still beautiful... So we might as well enjoy it while it's there.

[His words carry a strange weight, as if it could hold so many different meanings. He's not intending them to, but... Perhaps it's subconsciously formed from how he truly feels right now. What they think, what they feel, what they want—they're troubling questions, things they can't really deal with right now.

But maybe they don't have to. Maybe, at least for right now, in this moment, they can just enjoy what's right in front of them. Because when the sun rises and a new day passes... It will fade into something that can only be kept in their memories.]

[She can only laugh at his answer.

He's right. It doesn't matter. Whatever this stemmed from, whether it was natural or not, it's a culmination of something out there. Something magical. Something that might not happen again, so they should enjoy it while they can.

The air around them falls dead silent as they watch, and she can feel his near presence looming over her. Some of the dogs have left while others have found a spot on the floor or at the foot of the bed to sleep, but besides the occasional tapping of their paws, the only thing Tifa can hear is the sound of his breathing. It's a little strange, and a little overwhelming—the silence—but she's afraid to break it.

That if she speaks, this moment will slip through her fingers and either she'll wake up again from yet another dream, or things will go back to how they were before. She'll hold onto this moment for as long as it takes, watching as the lights shimmer and change colours overhead, and reach out to touch one of the thousands of little stars that float nearby.

Tifa isn't sure when they had come, but as one of those stars disappears from the graze of her fingers, she can feel tears streaking her cheeks, turning cold when the winter touches them. She shrinks back, freezing in place, and her eyes widen at the sudden shift, and at the sudden wave of emotions that comes over her again.

Not even about what happened in the dream, but about where she is now. It's no question that she was grateful for him sticking by her side, but how much, she could never be sure of... Until he was standing next to her, watching the snow and the lights at her side. She thinks she knows, but then the world turns her upside-down and that feeling only grows each time. How much more of this can she even take?

How many times can she just swallow whatever this is turning into? How long can she keep ignoring it, and hope that it will go away, when this place seems so adamant about putting them into situations where it will only flourish into something bigger?

Her hands grip at the windowsill as she tries to suppress them again. To strangle those thoughts and stuff them back where they had come from—from somewhere deep down in her heart. She has to turn from the window then, away from the lights, so he doesn't see her like this, and quickly wipes them away.]

[For a little while his gaze remains on the spectacle outside, old memories reflecting on the surface of those rippling colors like waves. His youth, his teens, recent years, and even months. No real order, just a random blur of moments that meant something to him. Quiet moments. Peaceful moments. Moments so fleeting yet poignant like this. Moments he usually shared alone.

But in recent years he was able to stand with others, to be able to share that peace and quiet in close company. And it's thanks to that time, that progression, that he can even feel himself opening as much as he had towards the one with him now. It's as if this open window is a reflection of his own heart, a window where he would have just kept close while watching from within but now pushed open as if to invite him to step out. How many times has that window been open and closed, people intruding in and trying to pull him out. How many times has he sat on its sill, ventured out briefly before returning to close it...only to be forced open again. How many times has he stood there wondering if he should open it himself.

Slowly Eustace extends a hand out over her head to catch one of those snowflakes, the initial cold melting into something warm. So fleeting, yet leaving such a lasting impression. As he glances down at her, he wonders. Wonders if he should just forget about his earlier thoughts and let things go as they want. To move past lingering insecurities and doubts. In that moment he feels something brush against his fingertips—a flower petal? He tries to grasp it but is distracted when Tifa suddenly steps back and turns away.]

...Tifa?

[He catches the movement and concern washes over him as his attention focused on her. Almost reflexively now, a hand gently moves to her shoulder as he steps closer to her.

Had she been reminded of something?]

[She doesn't mean to shrug him off like this, but when his hand rests on her shoulder, she unknowingly dodges it as she falls to sit at the edge of the bed, where one of the dogs lifts his head to check on them. Her gaze remains locked downward, and the way he says her voice... it makes her chest hurt, and her hands ball into fists around the sheets in an effort to not reach out to him again.

What would she want from him if she did anyway?

Shaking her head, she sighs.]

It's nothing. Just... [It's not nothing. It's all too much, and all at once that she doesn't know what to think or what to do with it.] A little overwhelmed with everything that happened is all.

[She always pretends to shrug her feelings off so easily, but in the end, it just makes it hurt more. It makes her want to reach for his hand and hold it, if only to make herself feel less alone in this distant, unfamiliar place... and not just in this world, but within herself, too.

How selfish.]

[There's a small stinging pang when she flinches away from him, his hand frozen in midair before it slowly retracts as he watches her retreat to the bed. This feeling of rejection... He never thought it would hit so hard. Hard enough that for a moment the lights flicker and dim, cold air swirling around him before it dissipates. But he also understands her position, especially when she admits how overwhelming she's feeling. And with the shadows seeming to stretch over her, that sense of loneliness magnifies.

He slowly steps towards her, dropping down to one knee in front of her as he takes that clenched hand into his before looking up.]

I told you before. You don't have to deal with it alone.

[His grip tightens.]

What can I do to help?

[What can he do so she doesn't look like she's suffering anymore? To bring her back to before?]

[Here he goes again... doing that thing that he does. That thing that she loves and hates, where he alone can hold her up when she trips, and how it brings all of those complicated emotions to life again, even after she's tried to drown them time and time again. No matter how many times, he always finds a way, whether he intends to or not.

Her hand will be cold to the touch, and when he takes it in his, her fingers tense before wrapping around in a loose grip of her own. She says nothing for a while and uses what little light is shining through the windows to take him in—the genuine concern on his face, and the very same guard that she sees so often reflected in him coming down... just so.

And it tears at hers as well, gently knocking at the singular spot where it's already started to crumble.

He doesn't need to do all of this for her, nor does she want to put him through all of it on her behalf or burden him with things that aren't his to bear, but here he is.

Tifa doesn't have an answer for his question. If he could turn back time and bring all of those people back, and bring her home back, then maybe she would, but nothing anyone ever does will bring them back. Not even an endless dream she never woke from would do that—it would never be the same. If he could send her home, back to Gaia, so that she could finish her fight and finally move on from all of that fear crippling her, then maybe she would, but she knows that's impossible too

No words come to her. Wordlessly, she falls forward until she's resting against him once more. If he can do one thing for her right now, it's this. It isn't much, and it won't immediately bring her back to before, but that space between them only reminded her of the cold, dark hole growing in her heart, that only deepens each day she spends here in this place.]

[He can see how her expression changes, feels how the air around them twists and distorts in response to her emotions. And then she's falling to him, and he hastily brings his arms around to catch her as he sits back, letting her rest against his chest. He holds her close, head resting atop hers as he lets out a long breath.

How many times will he have to do this? And how many times will he find himself tempted to want for more only to hastily pull back?

But no matter what, he just holds her for as long as she needs him. At least he knows he can provide her with this much.]

[It's getting harder to remember the last time someone else held her like this. It feels so distant now that it's beginning to seem more and more like a dream than the reality, and even though this isn't, it's more real. More tangible than when she tries to recall what it was like.

There's a very distinct softness to it... It's one that she leans into more, her other hand gripping his shoulder when she feels the coil in her stomach start to loosen, rising up into her chest before it comes out as a quiet sob again. She thought she could take it, thought she could stand up against the darkness that hung over her still, even after waking from that nightmare, and she thought she could weather the storm that came after, when she looked up at those lights, and the snow, and stars...

But it all comes crashing down, and she thumps her fist against his chest again.]

Why's it always you...

[The words fall past her lips before she can stop them, but she continues in between sobs. It's all less of a question for him and more for the world that keeps throwing things at them one after another.]

Why won't it stop?

[Why is it always you

The words hang in his head, a weight sinking into his stomach. Given everything he's pieced together so far, the first thing he can think of is the one she's really waiting for, wishing it was someone else in his place. He can't blame her for that, for wanting her connections from home. And if he hadn't realized so many things by now, this shouldn't have mattered—all it should have roused was a sense of pity and sympathy. Instead it just sends those frayed threads spinning and tangling all the more, making him question and doubt what he should be doing. Enough to push away from that line.

But the sound of her sobs pull him back to it. It's just him and her in this space, especially now. And he could ignore her. Could just keep her like this and do nothing more, let her just cry it out and give the minimum comfort like this. In the past he could have done so easily, but now...

Without really thinking, driven purely by the sound of her cries and the flux of his heart, Eustace brings his hand to Tifa's tear stained cheek, thumb first brushing over them before he pulls her face up so that his lips lightly touch the tops of her eyelid and then to the corner, lightly kissing it. His fingertips brush against her skin to thread through her hair as he stares down at her, his eyes carrying a weight of unknown emotions.

And before she can question him, his lips find hers, pulling her into rough kiss as if trying to pull her away from everything, from everything that's plaguing her.]

I can't stop it. [His voice is hoarse whisper as he breathes her in, every chain of resolve he had tried to fasten breaking with every fast beat of his heart.] But I'll take you away from it.

[Even if it's just a temporary escape, sometimes even that much is necessary. To be forced away from the soul sucking pits they find themselves trapped in so they can try to deal with it again later. Or, in this case, possibly create a new one or worsen it. But if they do, he won't let her be in there alone.

And maybe he's out of his mind right now, losing his resolve to stand back. But how can he? How could anyone hold back when someone they care about is hurting so much? And perhaps, in the back of his mind, a voice that he's been trying to ignore whispers—

Why can't it be him?

While he would have some answers—excuses—later, right now he's not thinking about them. The only thing on his mind right now is the young woman in his arms and comfort her in any way he can.]

Edited 2022-01-16 00:30 (UTC)

[His gestures surprise her, the sobs choking her into a stunned silence when his fingers gently caress the tears from her cheeks, and his lips the ones from her eyes. Time freezes around them, everything but them slowing to a crawl as she closes his eyes against his feather-light touch, so she doesn't see it coming when his lips press to hers in a kiss a little less gentle, and a little more urgent.

Her ears ring and her heart thunders in her head so loud that she barely hears his whispers, and when she inhales the air he breathes out, it's so dizzying that she leans in close, almost breaking his voice off to close the distance between them again, her hands wrapping around his neck to keep him in place as they drive their lips together into something deeper.

Tifa can hear those voices in the back of her head and those twinges of guilt that come with them. The voices that scream at her that this is wrong, that she shouldn't be handing him her heart when such a big piece of it still yearns for another, that there is no permanence to her time here... All of those doubts and fears that she harboured resurface, trying to fight back against that other side of her.

The side that he's so easily undoing under him. The side that takes him at his word. If he wants to help her bear that burden then that part of her wants to give it—wants to thrust some of that weight onto him so that they mare share it together, even if it is just for one night. To take him at his word that he can and will steal her away from all the troubling things that have taken root in her.

As if in a single breath, he does. There's that crushing wave that sweeps over her—of relief, and the fear that comes from actually... wanting more, and what that could mean. But does it matter? They've already taken that step into the unknown, and even if they wanted to go back, could they? Does she want to? Does he?

The thoughts drop into the back of her mind when she slips closer to the edge of the bed and closer to him, and Tifa allows herself to fall into whatever this is. As she slides her arms further around him to feel the press of his warmth against her, she parts her lips and draws back so that she can look at him, her own voice thick and her eyes saying everything that she intends to say but can't.]

Okay... [A beat.] Okay.

[For one night... It's fine if it's just for now, right?]

[Bells ring in his ears but are drowned by the rush of hot blood as she closes the distance on her own, her arms wrapping around him as his own encircle her as he leans up closer to her, almost pushing her back. The taste of her lips are just as tempting and sweet as before, and even though he knows he shouldn't he wants more of it. Wants to take more of it for himself.

And when she she gives her consent one arm slips beneath her legs as the other remains at her back, his only answer given through another heated kiss as he lifts her, standing up before dipping her back down onto the bed so that he's now looming over her. In that one breathless moment he stares down at her, pale blue eyes darkened with an unfamiliar heat. The way she looks beneath him, her hair dark as the night sky and the last remnants of the falling snow speckling it like stars, it's beautiful as it is tempting. He reaches up to pull out the flower that had managed to stay tucked by her ear, glancing at it before setting it to the side so that it won't be crushed.

Only after that can Eustace no longer resist and once more he kisses her, hand cupping her cheek as this time it's a little slower and gentler, as if wanting to savor it. A part of him knows they don't need to go far, yet another wants to. The more he touches and tastes, the more he finds himself craving, as if something new has awakened within him. But he also knows that he can only give and take as much as she's willing. Not to mention this is an unusual situation...

But those are only thoughts in the back of his mind as his attention and focus turns to their physical presence, of the heat and ripples of pleasure shared between them.

And for better or worse, the corgis that had remained with them seem to have gotten the hint and are shuffling their way out and downstairs. Whatever ends up happening, they'd rather be able to sleep than be around.]

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