[Would he have said the same thing if he knew how she felt about him? She wondered. Perhaps not. Maybe in those respects it was better, if not a little selfish of her, to have kept it to herself. Heart-to-heart conversations were not a strong suit for either of them. Words were so difficult, at that. She didn't have the wordsmith tongue that Gale and Halsin had. There was no way she was going to be able to say anything particularly useful or well-put to him.
Not the way she would have liked to. Even Astarion was better with his use of language.
She felt incredibly aware of him, then. Each movement. Each time he touched her or adjusted his blanket. She felt even more aware of herself, the very prominent thump of her heart. And when she thought she could have somewhat ignored it whilst trying to figure out something to say, or if she ought to have left him in silence, much of that thought left her.
His hand found her neck and involuntarily, her pulse quickened. His touch moved again, glove dusting over her cheek and it quickened further. One might have thought that she allowed him to touch her at all said a great deal about herself. And in a way, it did. She wanted to collect herself. To not struggle against the growing... Well.
She would have called it want. And that was a very difficult thing for her to feel. Because she wanted so desperately to respect him.
Either way, she could not help thinking that she enjoyed it. That touch. That she would have enjoyed it even more without his gloves. That she would have let him do so more in those moments. Lifting a hand slowly, she carefully reached up to trace over the back of his glove, just scarcely pressing her fingers between his.
When he made her feel the way he did, she wasn't thinking too much about the cold.]
Perhaps. [She conceded quietly, her own touch against him restless, perhaps betraying the effect he had on her, just barely contained under flimsy composition.] But you're the one I want. [She almost didn't think she said it aloud, and when she played it back, she had a moment's anxiety flutter up along her, before she politely cleared her throat. Offering his hand the gentlest squeeze, she finally shifted onto her back, so she could look up at him from where she was so dearly nestled.]
...Either do that more or not at all. [She continued quietly, guiding his hand back against the turn of her neck.] I shouldn't need to tell you which one I want. I imagine... that you already know.
[Unless he wanted to hear. Unless he needed to hear.]
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2023-12-21 08:07 pm (UTC)Not the way she would have liked to. Even Astarion was better with his use of language.
She felt incredibly aware of him, then. Each movement. Each time he touched her or adjusted his blanket. She felt even more aware of herself, the very prominent thump of her heart. And when she thought she could have somewhat ignored it whilst trying to figure out something to say, or if she ought to have left him in silence, much of that thought left her.
His hand found her neck and involuntarily, her pulse quickened. His touch moved again, glove dusting over her cheek and it quickened further. One might have thought that she allowed him to touch her at all said a great deal about herself. And in a way, it did. She wanted to collect herself. To not struggle against the growing... Well.
She would have called it want. And that was a very difficult thing for her to feel. Because she wanted so desperately to respect him.
Either way, she could not help thinking that she enjoyed it. That touch. That she would have enjoyed it even more without his gloves. That she would have let him do so more in those moments. Lifting a hand slowly, she carefully reached up to trace over the back of his glove, just scarcely pressing her fingers between his.
When he made her feel the way he did, she wasn't thinking too much about the cold.]
Perhaps. [She conceded quietly, her own touch against him restless, perhaps betraying the effect he had on her, just barely contained under flimsy composition.] But you're the one I want. [She almost didn't think she said it aloud, and when she played it back, she had a moment's anxiety flutter up along her, before she politely cleared her throat. Offering his hand the gentlest squeeze, she finally shifted onto her back, so she could look up at him from where she was so dearly nestled.]
...Either do that more or not at all. [She continued quietly, guiding his hand back against the turn of her neck.] I shouldn't need to tell you which one I want. I imagine... that you already know.
[Unless he wanted to hear. Unless he needed to hear.]