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Post by Charlotte on Jun 2, 2015 21:50:20 GMT -6
Tiz’s warm hand on her arm, Charlotte’s eyes closed for just a moment, finding herself nearly swallowed up by the sensation. As soon as she opened them again, her gaze hovered on Tiz’s as he examined her nearly bare torso. She felt no shame, made no moves to hide herself; she was comfortable being exposed like this, almost more comfortable than when she was clothed in certain situations. Some considered it promiscuous, but Charlotte found it freeing.
His eyes still examining her from, Charlotte took a moment to truly take in the man she had met earlier that night. She’d made fleeting observations as she usually did, noting her presumptions for his built figure, the shape of his eyes, and the like. But now, she simply noted how his brown hair had a very specific wave to it, and not all of the pieces adhered to the prescribed direction. She liked how it tousled almost effortlessly, silently wanting to run her hands through his hair to see how the locks felt. She glanced over the curve of his jaw, the crookedness of his grin, the angle of his nose. Even while bandaged, the man looked strong, hell, almost stronger than he had before. She focused just for a moment on the rise and fall of his chest.
Her eyes drifted back upwards to the man’s gaze, just as his locked with hers. His gaze was comforting yet commanding, soft yet somehow fierce. She was starting to feel herself become lost in their mossy green abyss, her chest pulling her to drop to her knees in front of Tiz and continue the fleeting kiss that had seemed to have happened centuries ago. Instead, she let her companion press the rag to her shoulder, doing her best to not react yet still breathing in sharply through gritted teeth. She focused on the hand resting almost in the crook of her neck. The arm ached and the pain seared as most small scrapes and cuts like that did, but the man’s touch was comforting enough to keep her from squirming or complaining like she would have under Loretta’s services.
The man was clearly conflicted as he tried to find the answer to her question. It was a troubling situation to have centered on oneself, especially considering the two men’s relationship prior. It was unfortunate, but it was times like these Charlotte remembered why she didn’t keep friends or acquaintances for long. Those she did keep, she did on a business-level only; if they couldn’t handle the shift in relationship, then Charlotte cut them out. It was the only real way for her to proactively keep herself from ending up in a situation like Tiz had. Sometimes she wished for deeper connections, but it was too risky, too dangerous. She had ended things with Rogus for that very reason.
The woman’s hand drifted to cover Tiz’s hand resting on her collarbone, turning her body a bit so she could better look at the man tending to the back of her shoulder. “As much as you might want to, don’t leave it to fate. If you want a specific outcome, you have to try and seize it for yourself. I understand you don’t want this to end poorly, but Dak won’t give up. I can’t tell you exactly what to do, but I can tell you I’ve known men like that before, and you’re in his sights..”
Her thumb glided over the back of the man’s hand idly, mirroring the light caress he had left tingling on her cheek as she ignored her scraped shoulder unexpectedly stinging. “A man who’s lost that much would go to the ends of the earth to find what he believes is just retribution.”
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Post by Tiz on Jun 2, 2015 22:05:03 GMT -6
"Hm," Tiz breathed slowly, pulling himself up after having treated the woman's shoulder. He sat down next to her, leaning back on his arms, placing on of them behind Myscha so that was surrounding her enough to pull her in close, should he want to. And he did. Of course he did.
There was wisdom in her words, and he knew that. He had heard similar pieces of advice before, but... He didn't know. He did know that hearts were volatile, fragile; they were hard to fix, and easy to break. Perhaps that's what it was-- Dak couldn't mend it, and thought maybe that killing Tiz would help bandage his wounds. He considered, for a second, what it might do to Dak internally if Tiz were dead. Or, maybe, if Tiz fought him and won. He wasn't sure. He looked up to the ceiling with a big grin on his face. "Looks like I'm on a hitlist, then. More popular every day. First, an old military pal tries to kill me, then I meet the most beautiful human being in all of Elibe, what next? My name on the front cover of the weekly journal? A statue in my honor in the fountain plaza?" He looked to Myscha, a mischievous glint in his eyes, scooting a bit closer to her, cocking his head ever so slightly, so that with even the slightest lean forward, he might kiss her again.
Without breaking gaze, he chuckled again. He thought about the way her lips felt against his, and he thought about the way she looked wearing less clothing, and he thought about the sincerity of these moments that they were sharing with one another. He lifted one of his arms up, placing it on top of hers carefully. He intertwined their fingers, picked her hand up inside of his, and placed in on his thigh, next to a cut that hadn't yet been treated.
Who was this woman? Where did her power over him come from? Why did he want to be with her so badly? Tiz realized he didn't know her that well. It shocked him that he was feeling this way about a woman he knew very little about, but he felt that it was more than her looks, and so he put his trust in how he felt. There were times when he felt sensations such as these were too complicated and too messy to entertain, and there were times when he felt like there was nothing in the world more important than what he was experiencing right this moment. He felt more in line with latter, rather than the former.
He wanted to kiss her. A lot. He wanted to reach over, take her frame in his hands and spend the rest of the nighttime hours cuddled with her, expressing his desire with his lips. But for now, anyway, he set the desire aside. He was interested in her. "Myscha," he said slowly, as if he were tasting the flavor of the name upon his tongue, like some false sense of security, like a lollipop that wasn't quite the flavor you thought it might be, yet still delicious.
He looked up to the ceiling again, squeezed her hand softly, and then looked back down at her, meeting her gaze again, paralyzed by the beauty of her eyes. "What's your story?"
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Post by Charlotte on Jun 2, 2015 22:51:37 GMT -6
“I certainly hope so; it’d improve the view there immensely.” Charlotte laughed, piercing blue eyes trained on his as he moved closer, having finished tending to her wound and joined her on the bed again. His flattery was a welcome boost to her ego, considering how battered and bruised she’d been only a few weeks prior. She had healed well, it seemed.
The gap between them so small, Charlotte wondered if the man would steal another kiss from her willing lips. The blonde did not pine for it as another woman might, but rather felt entitled to having her lips meet his once again. She wanted to run her hands across his chest, through his hair, over his slightly stubbled jaw. Charlotte was ready to take control and finally give into her want for any, every part of him she would be allowed to have.
But as his fingers intertwined with hers, she found herself taking pause, eyes drifting to the held hands as Tiz took them to rest on his thigh. Somehow she couldn’t bring herself to push past his motion and fulfil the burning need that was growing inside her. How could that be? She’d just told the man to make the situation he wanted, but here she was, unable to follow her own advice. Had the Isles really weakened her so? She had no room to become soft, no, she couldn’t let that happen. Nothing good came of it.
Hearing her false name made her feel secure again, even if just for a moment, reminding her she was not as vulnerable as she believed. She was still a mystery, an enigma to this man, but as he asked for her story, those emerald gems boring into the back of her soul, she didn’t know what to say. Her eyes broke from his, which she knew all too well clearly admitted anything she’d say would only be part of the truth, or none at all. And while normally a quickly fabricated story would have sufficed, she found herself at a loss.
So she kept things as simple and true as possible, defaulting to the only way she knew to handle someone trying to get that close to her. Leaning forward, Charlotte let a kiss graze the man’s shoulder, with another passing over his collarbone. “Does it matter? We’re both here now,” she paused, her lips again grazing his smooth skin, though this time at the crook of his neck, “enjoying this moment with one another,” she purred her works against his skin, “and whatever my story is doesn’t change that, does it?” Charlotte was very obviously avoiding his question, but in her mind it was for good reason. A story like hers would change his opinion of her, and while that normally wouldn't bother her, she didn’t want this moment, whatever it was or would end up being, to end. She had to do what she could to try and preserve what was left of it, before it became fleeting and evanescent.
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Post by Tiz on Jun 3, 2015 9:28:22 GMT -6
He couldn't help but laugh; he really didn't think so highly of his looks, but the constant reminder that someone as attractive as her DID find him so attractive did really bolstered his self-esteem. Not that he was weak in his esteem, it wasn't that, but it just wasn't an area he was particularly proud of; it wasn't an area he concerned himself with, really. But now, it seemed, he did pay more attention to it. The compliments meant something to him, which means they were reaching his heart, which meant he was considering that, even if for a moment, the woman was telling the truth. How strange, Tiz thought with a smile, as his eyes locked with hers. Every time they did that, he felt a part of his soul reach out and desperately grab for hers. He couldn't tell if it did latch on or not. He felt like it did. "How very sweet," he said awkwardly, sort of at a loss for words because of her flattery which seemed strangely genuine.
Tiz watched Myscha look at their latched hands, wondering what was going on in her elusive brain. His gaze was quizzical, happy, mischievous. He wondered a lot what she was thinking, what she wanted, where she expected this road to lead them. And then what after? Tiz looked down at the paired hands again. He hoped that surely this would not be as fleeting as one night.
Then she looked away, and Tiz became immediately concerned. She did have something to hide. Actually, she probably had a lot to hide-- and what that was, he was itching to find out. Not for purposes of gossip or collecting enough knowledge to be an information broker, but he truly wished to know what was so fierce about her past that caused her to turn away.
As Myscha trailed kisses up his Torso, Tiz felt the ice creep over his skin, grabbing at him, stilling him in this moment that would potentially become very passionate. He wanted to grab her, pull her into his lap, and have his way with her. At the same time, he was intensely focused on this woman and her story, and on her inability to maintain the eye contact that had previously been nourishing him.
Slowly, and with purpose, Tiz pulled Myscha into his lap, letting her legs hang over the edge of his bed. He pushed his body against hers, cocking his head again, and made sure she couldn't look away from him as his eyes remained trained on hers, as if all the answers he needed would be right in her cerulean globes. He brought his right hand behind her head, meeting her hairline, and gently stroked her hair, scratching her head a bit as he did it. Though he was smiling, his voice remained calm, firm, and serious. "Yes." he said slowly. "Yes, it does matter. Everyone has a story. Yours matters to me." He paused, looking down at her chest again, then slowly back up, as if to study her neck, her collarbone.
"Your story doesn't change that, no," he laughed, the seriousness in his voice gone, like a leaf in the wind. "I am obviously enjoying it regardless. But to preserve this moment, I think," as he spoke, he brought his left hand from out of hers and back onto the space between her jaw and her eye, right on her cheek, where it had been before. His fingers buzzed with affection as he traced the outline of her cheekbone. "...I think your story changes what this is for us. Am I another breeze across the hill, another feather lost in the wind? Surely, Myscha," he looked at her, the grip on the woman's face and neck becoming more tight, more impassioned by the closeness and tension in the room. "You know better than to fool me like that."
He didn't know if she knew better than to fool him. This was a fool's game, after all; he had no way of knowing how this would end. If she would abscond in the morning, he didn't know-- if she would stay and talk to him, he didn't know. But she was, in some degree, right. That didn't matter-- not in the coming seconds. Recognizing that, with his tightened grip, Tiz pulled her in closer and kissed her again, with more fervency, more displayed dominance, than before.
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Post by Charlotte on Jun 3, 2015 12:15:40 GMT -6
“Yes. Yes, it does matter.” Instantly the blonde wanted to look away from the man again, but his readjustment of their position, his hand laced through her silken hair, prevented her from being able to drop her gaze again. Her heart dropped, wondering how she could possibly answer his question. She’d usually just lie the question away, but she’d already determined she didn’t want to be disingenuous with Tiz - the man was just too bewitching to resort to that.
But it didn’t mean she could be truthful, either. How in all of Elibe could she tell him anything about her? She’d worn so many different hats since abandoning the Isles at 17 - smuggling and stealing all manner of things, consorting with nobles despite ill intentions, acting as a courtesan to steal important information or items from important men blinded by lust. Each act seemed worse than the last - at least it would to him. The only people who accepted what she did to make her living, were the people who hired her. She found no reason to believe this would be any different.
And to add, her companion wasn’t the only one being pursued. She had no reason to believe Bishop Aurelian would let her treachery pass unnoticed, even if Saturos was able to cover her tracks. She was on the bad side of the most influential Etrurian bishops from the Isles, and dragging anyone else into that mess wasn’t something she intended to do, especially when her recompense for how badly she’d screwed that job up, was becoming an agent with the Inquisitional Intelligence. Just thinking about all of it now made her head spin, made her wish she could go back and turn the job down. Things would have been much simpler now.
Charlotte stayed silent, lightly pushing her cheek into the man’s hand as he moved it to where it rested before. Maybe if she was a different person, she could say she wouldn’t leave, would stick around and see where this went. She certainly liked the man, even after meeting him only a few hours prior. There was something so… intoxicating about being with him, so beguiling about his eyes boring into her very core.
But she was Charlotte - no, Myscha - which meant things might not end the way he planned. She didn’t mean to fool him, but she also knew it was the only thing she could do. Men like him didn’t deserve women like her. They deserved stability, comfort, a woman who would have his children, give him a happy life. There was no happiness at the end of the road with the blonde, she was convinced of that. This was the same way she’d felt with Simon when she’d absconded with him from the Isles, and that had ended in nothing but heartache and pain The blonde tried to gather all that was on her mind into a coherent thought, but the words wouldn’t come. Just as she was going to simply start speaking and try to figure things out on the way, she felt this soft grip tighten on her, pulling her into him commandingly until their lips crashed together again. Charlotte hesitated briefly before melting into his embrace, tangling her hand into the mess of auburn hair atop Tiz’s head. Her mind went blank for a few moments, only focused on what she felt. His smooth, moist lips moving against hers, his musky scent, the way he tasted, the way his hands moved over her bare skin.
She pushed into him insistently, claiming the kiss she’d already determined was hers, and she wouldn’t pull away. No, she shifted her body slightly, drawing her legs onto the bed and sitting atop him, much like she had before. Charlotte was lost in the moment, denying herself of the doubts and thoughts that had plagued her as she grasped for the only thing she knew for a fact was real: him here now, in the moment, holding her closely as if he’d known her a for a lifetime.
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Post by Tiz on Jun 3, 2015 14:27:14 GMT -6
The moment was long, slow, and perfect.
It was fueled by the intense desire and emotion that had been welling up like a heavy storm in the room since the two walked in together, blending and growing itself with careful and impassioned intent until the threshold was broken, and neither person could resist the other. Tiz felt it. Tiz was in tune with it.
He felt himself losing control over his actions as he laid himself down on the bed, taking Myscha with him, throwing caution to the wind and kissing her with the loosened and wild emotional intensity of someone who was falling hard and fast for someone else whom he barely knew. That was the case, after all... and yet, there was something different, something too perfect about the moment, about the night, that made Tiz think they didn't know each other. Perhaps their souls had been growing in preparation for tonight. Perhaps he was just lucky. He didn't know.
Recklessly, without a bound on his emotions, without a check on his actions, Tiz's grip around the woman's waist tightened. Without hesitation he explored her body, her every perfect curve with his hands, kissing her with the fury and power of the gods of the sky above them. With every break to breathe, with every moment of eye-opening euphoria, Tiz occasionally met the gaze of the woman, sometimes noticing her eyes still closed and the beautifully long lashes that were so near his. He was lost in a sea of his own thoughts, drowning in the bliss of what was one of the most exciting nights of his life.
Tiz remained focused, passionate, and engaged, in tune with every twitch of every muscle in either of their bodies, as if the physical chemistry in the room had been carefully orchestrated, perfectly concocted, by the hand of Elimine herself. And yet, there was something reserved about Myscha, something resistant, something that demanded to be called upon, yet Tiz had not the authority to do so. She hadn't responded. She had looked away initially, she had evaded his question. What was her intent? Why was she here? Why had she gone this far with him, and why was she willing to go further? Who was she? An assassin, an informant? A high-office public official? The future love of his life? He had so many questions, he almost wanted to smile, were it not for the moments of intimacy the two were sharing.
As he became increasingly lost in the forest of passion, Tiz felt his hands reach for the bandeau top, for the linings of her pants at her waist, and began to reconstruct Myscha the way she had been created, without the ability to hide behind clothes. He pulled slowly and carefully, with great intent, with purpose, and with power. He was wild with emotion. Tonight was his euphoric explosion, the moment of intimacy that broke all others-- the one thing he thought he would never be able to do: to love a woman, to engage with a woman in such a way that he could convey how he felt not with words, but with actions.
[FADE TO BLACK]
The past few hours had been hazy. "Mm," Tiz mumbled, the sleepiness in his voice still evident. His emerald green eyes opened slowly, his lashes pulling apart as though they'd been closed for eons. He looked slowly beside him, out the window, to see the glory of the sun peeking gently through the glass frame, as if to welcome the morning with open arms. He looked down to Myscha, with her eyes still shut, not knowing if she was awake. In the crook of his arm she had slept, both shirtless, and without fear or discomfort. He closed his eyes again, enjoying the peace and stillness of the morning, reminiscing on his night with the woman in his arms.
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Post by Charlotte on Jun 3, 2015 17:55:27 GMT -6
The tired woman had woken sometime ago - she honestly wasn’t sure if she’d fallen asleep in the first place. The night had her swept up in a whirlwind of emotion and passion, but she’d believed the feelings would have subsided with the release of the tension between them, the resolution of the passionate crescendo. Instead, the joy and ecstasy faded, leaving Charlotte more conflicted than before, her doubtful musings returning in full force just moments after they had collapsed into one another’s arms.
What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she shake the way she was feeling, just enjoy living in the moment their two bodies had met?
So she’d watched the man’s chest rise and fall as he slept, trying to decide if she would leave before he woke or wait. As much as the warning sirens in her head urged and begged her to leave and not look back, the woman found herself unable to move again. Cradled in the man’s arm, bare skin to bare skin, she didn’t want to leave, not yet at least. She was comfortable in his arms, despite all of the indecision that plagued her as she looked over his naked from. Laying here like this, Charlotte wished for just a moment that this wouldn’t end, that she wouldn’t have to give in to the reality of their situation. It had been so long since she’d felt this way afterwards, so long since she’d felt anything but emptiness and focus on completing a job. A need had been fulfilled, but not the one she had so deep in her core, that she’d hoped she could stifle and stamp out in favor of her work.
However long had passed, Charlotte closed her eyes as the morning sun breached the windows of the man’s apartment, beckoning them to rise in the light of the new day. Normally a joyous thought, it filled the woman with dread. Soon, it would be time for her to leave, and she’d likely have to never see the man again. She didn’t have them often at all, but it was fleeting moments like these she’d wished she had been born an unassuming citizen of Elibe, some farmer or merchant’s daughter who could entertain something like… whatever it was Tiz and Charlotte had shared the night previous. She loved the thrill of her work, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t come with a myriad of sacrifices.
The buzz of his chest on Charlotte’s ear caused her to shift, a rare genuine smile coming to her lips, enjoying the feeling. It seemed the man was stirring, so it was time for her to do so too. Nuzzling closer to the man, her eyes fluttered open, the powder blue globes looking up to the man she’d just met the night previous. He looked so peaceful, the kind of peace Charlotte had never known for herself.
“Well good morning,” she murmured, lifting her head and resting her chin on the man’s bare chest.
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Post by Tiz on Jun 3, 2015 22:09:51 GMT -6
"Mm," he mumbled again, his green eyes closed shut, hidden behind eyelids and an equally genuine, happy smile. He lazily let his head fall back down on the pillow as she spoke, but raised his hand up behind her head, keeping her close, twirling a lock of hair around two of his fingers. He was happy. He was happy a lot; happiness was not rare for the man, and it was a mood that stuck with him often. He smiled a lot. He laughed a lot. But this was different-- this kind of feeling was new, and Tiz didn't think he had experienced it before. It was as if after the crash of a large, heavy wave, the sea settled under a bright midday sun, and he was lazily floating in the water, experiencing what life had to offer for him.
He turned his head slightly so he could meet Myscha's morning eyes. Were the sun angled towards her and not towards him, he guessed her eyes would illuminate in a completely new way. He wanted to see that. He wanted to see the look in her eye of someone who was a genuinely happy as he was. She still seemed off somehow, like there was something about the scene that should be different; it still seemed slightly tense, in a different way. Tiz was surprised, though-- he had half expected the woman to leave in the night, regardless of how authentic he believed she was last night.
Thinking about what had happened sent Tiz's head in a whirl, a great spin of romantic and passionate emotions. He hadn't ever experienced anything like that before. As he stared at Myscha, a sleepy, morning smile drawn across his face, he realized there was nowhere else he would rather be. His heart was full-- overflowing, even-- and he could have spent the entire morning being lazy in bed with this naked woman he had met nearly half a day ago.
"What a good morning indeed, sunshine," he joked, pulsing his fingers against the back of her head affectionately. He looked away from her for a moment and laughed a little, his teeth flashing through his closed, curved smile. He laid for a moment, shutting his eyes as the sun began to bother him. He really could lay here all day. Eventually, he would have to put pants on and get dressed, but truly, this moment was perfect for him. He decided there was nothing he could change, or would change, about it. Or about her, a mystery though she may be.
Tiz sighed, looking back towards the woman, bringing his other arm to rest around the front of her waist under the blanket. "Look, if you need to go, I... I get it. But," the seriousness in his voice faded with the addition of another toothy smile. "I know I don't look it, but I make a damn good breakfast chef."
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Post by Charlotte on Jun 4, 2015 11:31:47 GMT -6
Charlotte nudged her head with a laugh into the man’s shoulder as his fingers lightly rapped against her head. Some of her hair had matted to his skin, slightly damp with a mixture of sweat and salve. Instead of trying to separate them, though, she shifted as if trying to find a way to bring their bodies closer than they already were. At this point, she’d do anything in her power to make the moment last as long as possible, knowing it would ultimately be a fleeting one.
There was that serene look again, the blonde thought as she kept her gaze trained on Tiz, his eyes closing as his face bathed in warm rays of the sun. She wondered how one man could be so full of life, so happy and seemingly carefree. If last night had been any indication, the man had his own share of problems to deal with. But it was as if they didn’t bother him at all, at least in this moment. Maybe he was still basking in a post-coitus glow; whatever it was, there had to be a reason he always seemed so… joyful.
The soothing silence was broken as Tiz asked her to stay - in his own way, of course. She thought briefly if there were any meetings or hand-offs she needed to make that day - and of course, there always were. In fact, there was one that was supposed to happen fairly soon if she recalled correctly, and it was one she couldn’t skip. She sighed. Never was there a dull day for her, but it also meant there was little time to relax and simply take a moment to enjoy times like this.
A sad smile spread across her lips as Charlotte walked her fingers up the man’s ribs slowly, her eyes following her dainty digits as she did. “I’m sure you are,” she purred quietly, pausing as she adjusted herself one more time, propping herself up with her elbow on her side, so she could better look Tiz in the eyes. The morning sun had illuminated his irises brilliantly; faint doilies of gold seemed to encircle his pupils, making their emerald green seem more vivid than ever before.
“But,” she said, her voice sounding unwilling to continue the thought she had to provide, “unfortunately I had a lot of work planned for the day today…” The woman paused, musing if she really had to keep her appointments before accepting that yes, she did have to.
Leaning forward, the woman planted a soft kiss on Tiz’s bare sternum. “I can stay for just a few minutes more, though, if that might suffice.” Her lips drifting over his chest, grazing as they rose, they came to rest just above his right cheek, hovering for a moment before they grazed the skin there too. She’d rather leave with an empty stomach than still hungry for him. A few more moments in bed could stave the emptiness better than any food he could prepare her now.
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Post by Tiz on Jun 4, 2015 12:01:51 GMT -6
I wonder if she'll remember me, Tiz thought to himself. He knew that the intensity of moments and of nights like ones he had just experienced were typically short-lived: fiery, powerful, and limited to the night in which they occurred. But because of the range of emotions he had been feeling, and because he truly HADN'T experienced things in the same way that he just had, he wondered how long these feelings would stick with him. Would he walk away from this encounter feeling uplifted, overjoyed? Sad and empty? He didn't think he could feel sad and empty with this woman around. Her very presence was electrifying.
He noticed something, though; he noticed something he hadn't yet seen in this woman. When she smiled, her whole face lit up-- her eyes became intense and bright, the shape of her face bending with the wide smiles that had spread across her lips before, but... this one felt empty. This one felt fake and distant and posed. Tiz's gaze grew inquisitive, as if he could find answers to his questions just by looking at her. His smile faded as her empty-looking one became apparent, and he listened intently to her. As she pulled herself up, he allowed himself the blessing and the pleasure of enjoying the view of her naked form. He figured that she would have things to do... What those things were, he could've never guessed. He hadn't asked, and he wouldn't now. Another time... another day.
"Of course," the young swordsman mused, "you're a busy woman, I have no doubt." he thought about winking at her, but his joke made him think that perhaps her work was truly as sensitive subject for her. After all, she didn't want to talk much about herself, and he didn't know what she was hiding. His sensitivity to her emotional baggage, whatever it may be, kept him from letting himself be as vulnerable as he had been the night before. "And probably also the most beautiful one I've ever seen."
Not sure he had ever meant anything more seriously in his life, Tiz broke his serious face with an uncontrollable chuckle and a bright smile. He placed his right hand around the woman's left arm, pushing her with purpose back down on the bed, underneath him, and then he quickly positioned himself on top of her. He pulled her hands above her head, right at the crown of her head, and pinned them with his left hand. With his right he brought the blanket over them both, shrouding them in darkness. Still laughing a bit, almost like a small, giddy child, but with the voice and expression of a young man with a heart full of joy, Tiz leaned down close to her. He gently grazed his lips against the top of her ear.
"If a few minutes is all I'll get, it will be more than enough, Myscha."
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Post by Charlotte on Jun 4, 2015 21:17:59 GMT -6
Letting the man control her body, Charlotte found herself erupt into a spirited laugh as Tiz pushed her back to the bed. If there was one thing that she could not deny, it was how enjoyable it was tumbling around beneath the covers, their laughs as tangled as they had been the night previous. Maybe this would be short-lived, but that was something she didn’t forget. It wasn’t very often she found someone who could make her feel like she didn’t live her work, even if it was just for a little while, even if it had to end. Not to mention, him calling her beautiful and sounding as if he meant it, rather than used the compliment for his own gains, was refreshing. It was… different coming from him somehow.
The man’s hot breath on her ear caused her to shudder, a more genuine, real smile now gracing her features in their dark, shadowed refuge. Even with how strong the man’s grip was around her hands, Charlotte made a living off of being slippery, hard to hold; so she slipped one of her hands for his grip, cradling his face as she moved his face to claim another kiss, slipping her lips in between his with a small nibble. She pushed her mouth against his, her lips now the commanding ones, beckoning the man to match her pace. Her sudden fervor as she urged him closer to her seemingly came from nowhere, but for Charlotte, it was an attempt to crystalize what she wanted to remember from the encounter. Not the sleepless night, nor the doubts or worry. She wanted to remember this.
More than the few minutes she’d originally prescribed passed, but as a lull came between their bodies and mouths moving, Charlotte realized it was time. "OK, now I really have to go," she mumbled against his warm skin. With a sigh, she pulled away from Tiz, moving the blanket from covering them as she sat up. She stretched her arms as high as she could, her smile fading as she slipped out of the bed to retrieve her things.
Bending down to pick up the tight brown leggings she had donned, Charlotte looked back to Tiz, the sad smile from before again souring her features. “I don’t mean to sound uninspired, but thank you… it’s been a long while since…” since I’ve felt that way, she finished in a thought as she trailed off, unable to admit aloud she might have felt something more than just a physical need fulfilled in their throes of passion the night previous. There was no point in admitting it, anyways. It only made leaving the man behind more difficult. Hopefully he’d just believe it’d been a long time since she’d been with a man and leave it at that. It would certainly keep things simpler.
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Post by Tiz on Jun 4, 2015 23:02:43 GMT -6
She was the unstoppable force, and he was the unmovable object. She was the fire and he was the lightning. The power of her kiss ignited him, like the sparks crackling from the burning wood of a campfire lit up the dark air, creating a happy warmth. And so he pushed back, opening his mouth, so that this, if it be their last kiss, would be passionate, memorable, and intense. He let his tongue slide gently into her mouth, and as he pulled it out, grabbed her lower lip with his teeth, gently pulling it, teasing her, a smile growing across his face as he did so. He pushed back against her, like clashing swords, vying for control of the situation, daring to go against her as he pushed the weight of his frame against her under the blankets. He had never felt this before.
He was disappointed, but the man still smiled as Myscha got off of him, deciding that it was time for her to go. It almost broke his heart, listening to her say she needed to leave. He didn't want her to. He felt like there was a real chance he wouldn't see her again, and he couldn't let that be the case. He only knew whatever name she'd given him: no story, no residence, nothing. He knew nothing. He couldn't write to her, he couldn't meet with her anywhere unless she told him something about herself on which he could operate. He wanted more of this-- no, Tiz thought, he wanted more of her. It wasn't just the intimacy and physical pleasure, he wanted more of Myscha-- he wanted more of her story, more of the missing pieces of the puzzle that was this incredibly vitalizing woman.
"Wow," he said, almost in complete disbelief as he watched her stand and stretch. He hadn't realized how great a butt this woman had. He pulled his hand down the side of his face, almost angrily, like he couldn't control his desire. As she got dressed, he halfheartedly did the same, very slowly putting his pants on, wishing his day with her could continue. Before he could put his shirt on, she spoke. It almost hurt him to hear those words. This meant goodbye. Tiz folded his arms, leaning against the wall adjacent to his bed. He stared her down, the mischievous grin returning to his face. The sweat from his hair the previous night and the bedhead weren't helping him much. "Since? I'm not letting this one go," he joked, shifting his weight, refusing to move away from the wall. He was afraid he might break if he moved towards her. The tension he felt was stifling, like some spiritual pressure was boring down on him, begging him to grab this woman and keep her for the day.
Tiz looked away for a moment, his smile fading, but not going away completely. "Look, I understand if this was... Well, you get it. You're not naive. If this is just a... thing, for you, then I promise I won't be mad, and we can let it go the minute you walk out that door." He looked past her. He wished the door were further away from her, so that she would have to walk farther to leave him.
He refused to look at her. He was afraid now. Simplicity was never his style, and something as intense as what he was feeling... it wasn't simple. "...But I want to see you again."
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Post by Charlotte on Jun 5, 2015 7:22:54 GMT -6
“It’s just been a while, that's all.” Even as kind and loving as he’d been, Tiz was still a dog – not that it was a bad thing at all. Charlotte smirked as he heard the quiet exclamation, very aware she was being gaped at as she sidled around the room nude. She knew the kind of view her carefully maintained figure presented, and the way she moved showed her awareness of herself – her limbs moved as if she were underwater, surrounded by a warm liquid that caressed every voluptuous curve.
Charlotte dressed rather quickly, even with her pointed, self-aware moves, having developed a method for it over the years. She didn’t often have time to idle; usually when she’d wake, it would be when her partner was a sleep and she needed to get back to her main objective that the encounter was used to further. Still, it was hard for her to slow, and she found herself dressed with boots nearly laced up just as the man had pulled on his pants.
As she finished lacing the tall leather boots, she looked to Tiz briefly as he stood with back to the wall, watching her. It was hard to believe last night he’d been the target of a murder, though the bandages – which had remained on his person despite their tumultuous ecstasy – spoke to the reality of that. He started to speak, giving her an out from all this again, and she felt her heart drop. She knew what she had to say, but it didn’t make it easier, especially when he was so forward about wanting to see her again. This was why she didn’t do this for herself anymore, wasn’t it?
Tying off the lace on the boot, Charlotte stood, the small heel on them clicking against the creaking wood floors of Tiz’s home as she approached him. She only stopped when she was close enough to rest her hand on his chest, looking again into the green globes her eyes had been locked with nearly the entire night. She couldn’t see the gold crochet around his pupils any longer, the sun coming from behind him, but perhaps it was for the best.
“I don’t know that we can,” she finally said, feeling her chest tighten as she did. Her features were stoic, though, as if the woman Tiz had been with the night previous had already left, leaving this one to deliver the unappetizing message. She couldn’t entertain whatever this was, not with all of the unknowns, all of the risks. The man was in enough trouble as it was; bringing her world into it would ruin him.
“Let’s... remember the night for what it was,” she said finitely, standing on her toes and giving him a light kiss on the cheek. “I know it’s not one I’ll forget any time soon,” she said with the same sad smile as before.
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Post by Tiz on Jun 5, 2015 7:50:16 GMT -6
Tiz narrowed his eyes as he looked at the woman. No, this was different, thought. He could almost feel the resistance she was giving him, could almost taste the bitterness of the words coming out of her mouth. Was he making it up, or was his heart truly in tune with hers? Was she sad, or was she putting on a show? Much as he could tell that something was off, he couldn't make out that much... He simply didn't know her that well. But she was too intoxicating to let go of so easily.
He wouldn't cry-- he wasn't so wounded that tears were a response. Whether or not he wanted to reach out to this woman, he knew that doing so wasn't going to get him anywhere. Intentionally avoiding her gaze, even as the beautiful woman kissed his cheek, TIz's eyes sank to the floor, an intense expression written across his furrowed brow. The night for what it was? Had he been wrong the whole time about the encounter? Perhaps yes, perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps she just had a really good time with him physically. Perhaps the emotions therein were one-sided: perhaps Tiz had read everything wrong, had worn his out outside on his bandaged chest, only to be cupped for a moment before gently pushed back inside of him. He wouldn't cry, but this hurt him. He almost didn't say anything to her.
When the man finally decided to look back at her, the same quizzically intense glare in his eyes, he noticed the emptiness of her attempted smile. He couldn't just let this go. She was either genuinely conflicted, or trying not to hurt him too badly. He knew better than to let himself be walked on, but he didn't sense that her objective was to step on his toes and walk away. There was something large at play here, some sort of glaring obscurity that he was simply missing. It made him angry that he couldn't understand what was going on. He felt lost, unaware, and completely infatuated.
The woman's response to him, being that they might not be able to see each other again, seemed feigned. The way her figure tightened, almost defensively, was a sign to him that she very likely was avoiding rough terrain. What was it about her that made this woman so elusive? Was it so hard to get close to someone? Tiz wondered. Or it could have been him-- he could have just as easily been making this situation one that was hard to deal with. He unfolded his arms, pulling one around her waist so that they midsections touched, his own sad, green gaze lazily meeting her as he looked desperately for another solution.
Sure, he wanted to remember the night for what it was, he thought as he looked at her brilliantly illuminated blue eyes. Now that the sun graced them instead of his own, he could see every shade of brilliant blue that made up these two parts of her soul, these two windows into the life of this Myscha, these two windows through which Tiz could see absolutely nothing. He could see fear, he could see desire, he could see pleasure and he could see kindness and pain-- but intention? Motive? ...Truth? These things were lost on Tiz. He wouldn't forget it, either. He wouldn't forget this night ever. But more than the night, Tiz thought that he...
"Might not be able to forget about you anytime soon," the words slipped out of his mouth, a thought on its own so powerful it passed through his lips, breaking the silence spell he had placed on them. It was as if the words carried enough power that no amount of personal resistance of will could stop them. He was embarrassed. Tiz looked away again, not blushing, not smiling. He "tch"ed through his teeth, loosening his grip around the woman's waist.
"I'm sorry," he began, replicating her sad smile as he looked back at her. "You're right." he lied. "We should... let's do that, yeah. I'll remember you for what you are, and you'll remember me for what I am. Perhaps that's the best two broken souls can count on, yeah?" He tried to laugh, but he knew it came out fake. His real laugh and his fake one were incredibly distinguishable. His grip tightened again, artificially so, in a way that you might hug someone goodbye that you aren't ready to lose yet.
He knew she was broken. He knew he was broken. This sort of goodbye wasn't suited for two broken hearts.
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Post by Charlotte on Jun 5, 2015 12:30:41 GMT -6
Charlotte was very aware of his eye’s breaking away from hers for what seemed like the first time since they’d stepped foot in his apartment. The cheery light behind his gaze has all but faded as his brow wrinkled and lowered, his eyes narrowed and questioning. It was clear her words had wounded him, but to what extent she honestly wasn’t sure. They’d only met the night previous, but the man was, more or less, an open book when it came to his feelings. She didn’t need to draw on her years of consulting work to know that people who exposed themselves like that were vulnerable to becoming attached and hurt quickly.
As soon as his eyes connected with hers again, she could see him searching for some sort of answer as to why things had to be this way, why she would turn down another encounter like this? Charlotte was a passionate woman, but no amount of coin in the world could afford her the ability to act on all of her passions. To add to that was the hard fact that they had just met. A day or two separated from the intense emotion of the night would likely fade their feelings, make it easier to accept that this could only happen once.
The blonde continued to allow the silence its course, waiting for the man’s response. Tiz had pulled her waist into his, closing the gap between the two, but Charlotte had barely noticed as she continued to justify why things were better this way. If anything, they were being rational, level-headed to end things now, before one of them inevitably would hurt the other. She didn’t want to spoil the entirely positive experience by taking a chance and ending up burned. This was better than a small pocket of a perfect experience, rather than a short road that led to a dead end. No matter how hard she tried, placing trust in something unknown wasn’t something she could do.
“Might not be able to forget about you anytime soon.” The moment the words tumbled from Tiz, Charlotte lowered her gaze to his chest. It was unfair, the way he had said it, considering she was trying to be what she believed was more than fair to him. But the man would never understand why someone like her had to keep her distance, yet another reason they had to part. There were so many things he was unaware of, that made whatever it was he’d wanted from seeing her again impossible. A bit of heartbreak now was better than a lot more down the road.
Charlotte could tell he was lying when he agreed to not see one another again, if not from the look in his eyes and his disingenuous smile, then from the empty laugh so unlike the lively ones they had shared. She couldn’t let herself be wooed by pity or regret for what she’d said and how he’d reacted. Charlotte had to be able to walk out the door, able to not look back. Even if he was lying to her, he was allowing her to do that.
Hand still resting on his chest, Charlotte softly traced her fingertips up to his shoulder before her hand softly moved up the side of his neck and tangled into his tangled mop of hair. The movement was strange as she wanted to end it with a kiss, but she wasn’t sure it was right, wasn’t sure she should further prolong the goodbye. So she pulled away, the same smile still on her face as she simply replied:
“I suppose so, hmm?” With that, she pulled out of the man’s embrace slowly, turning on her heel and listening to the clicks of her boots against the wood floor again as she slipped out of the door.
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