[ Her head tilts at the tone he uses. Ah, perhaps it is finally time to put the topic of politics, war, and the state of Ishgard to bed for now. A small laugh comes from her at the stumble in his words and she cannot help but rest her head against his arm. He rarely stumbles at all, thus hearing his brief halt of speech speaks more than any blush might.
The reputation of the purity of the Warrior of Light hardly matters to her. She has saved the realm over. If she wishes to spend a night with someone, crossing lines of intimacy or not, it is within her right. She cares little for what they might say of her. Unlike Aymeric, she has the capability of going from place to place to ignore the rumors. He does not. He must sit in the middle of constant shifts of gossip and politics. What would they say of him? That he was so easily tempted by a Savior of Ishgard?
Part of her, in truth, cares so very little of it all. She wishes to merely focus on Aymeric and their time together. The moments are all to fleeting, and she can already sense the ache inside her heart at the idea of saying goodbye in the morning. For a brief moment it is so strong that she presses the side of her face into his arm and closes her eyes as they walk.
Alkaid opens her eyes once the sound of the door opening comes to her ears. She steps inside, hand still entwined with his to look around the room. It looks similar to each of the rooms she has seen so far. A small fireplace with a chair, a few windows with drapes pulled over them, and a bed that very much says he is lord of the house. Her free hand reaches up to the drapes that hang from the frame of the bed. They are heavier than she expected. Though, with some thought, it does make sense. Isghard nights can be terribly cold.
She glances back at him with his statement. A blush strikes her face, despite being the one to insist on it all. After a moment she pulls herself up onto the bed and scoots to the end closes to the window. It would only seem fair that she has the colder side when he is the one in need of comfort. Her hand reaches up to pull the earrings from her ears, doing it in swift practiced motions. Then, she sets about undoing the braid across the top of her head in order to shake her hair free.
Once she places her earrings on the side table a few things strike her suddenly. He has never seen her with her hair undone or so informally dressed. He said for her to make herself comfortable, and in doing so, she moved as if this would be the place she would rest on several occasions. Her hand hovers over her earrings for a moment before turning back to look at him. Now it dawns on her how much she truly wishes that she could be with him like this day in and day out. How much that she not only wants to be at his side, but to truly call him her knight with her voice and not just her thoughts.
If only she might be as forward and bullheaded as her sister. Then, maybe, she could tell him all she wishes to without the fear he may somehow still turn her away. ]
It's a lovely room. [ She does not lie or simply speak to speak. The room feels like it could be home; like it should be home.
Maybe the loneliness she senses in the room is her own and not his. ]
no subject
The reputation of the purity of the Warrior of Light hardly matters to her. She has saved the realm over. If she wishes to spend a night with someone, crossing lines of intimacy or not, it is within her right. She cares little for what they might say of her. Unlike Aymeric, she has the capability of going from place to place to ignore the rumors. He does not. He must sit in the middle of constant shifts of gossip and politics. What would they say of him? That he was so easily tempted by a Savior of Ishgard?
Part of her, in truth, cares so very little of it all. She wishes to merely focus on Aymeric and their time together. The moments are all to fleeting, and she can already sense the ache inside her heart at the idea of saying goodbye in the morning. For a brief moment it is so strong that she presses the side of her face into his arm and closes her eyes as they walk.
Alkaid opens her eyes once the sound of the door opening comes to her ears. She steps inside, hand still entwined with his to look around the room. It looks similar to each of the rooms she has seen so far. A small fireplace with a chair, a few windows with drapes pulled over them, and a bed that very much says he is lord of the house. Her free hand reaches up to the drapes that hang from the frame of the bed. They are heavier than she expected. Though, with some thought, it does make sense. Isghard nights can be terribly cold.
She glances back at him with his statement. A blush strikes her face, despite being the one to insist on it all. After a moment she pulls herself up onto the bed and scoots to the end closes to the window. It would only seem fair that she has the colder side when he is the one in need of comfort. Her hand reaches up to pull the earrings from her ears, doing it in swift practiced motions. Then, she sets about undoing the braid across the top of her head in order to shake her hair free.
Once she places her earrings on the side table a few things strike her suddenly. He has never seen her with her hair undone or so informally dressed. He said for her to make herself comfortable, and in doing so, she moved as if this would be the place she would rest on several occasions. Her hand hovers over her earrings for a moment before turning back to look at him. Now it dawns on her how much she truly wishes that she could be with him like this day in and day out. How much that she not only wants to be at his side, but to truly call him her knight with her voice and not just her thoughts.
If only she might be as forward and bullheaded as her sister. Then, maybe, she could tell him all she wishes to without the fear he may somehow still turn her away. ]
It's a lovely room. [ She does not lie or simply speak to speak. The room feels like it could be home; like it should be home.
Maybe the loneliness she senses in the room is her own and not his. ]