[ If she wished to learn, he would do his best to show her how, but there still remains a part of him that feels as though he is still learning how to fit into the society in which he lives. Even without the added complication of who he is, he cannot help but look at those lofty lords and ladies and wonder if he will ever be like them, or if he even wants to be like them. Ishgard is still his home, of course, but there are moments in which he feels like an outsider in his own city. But he gets along as well as he can, and so he considers that enough for the moment.
Perhaps if she remains with him, they can learn how to live in such a world together.
He truly does not believe the words to be premature, but he can imagine the voices of the naysayers who would tell him he is acting rashly and without thinking. But what need is there for thinking when a voice seemingly from the past is telling him this is the path he should be on, that these are the steps he should take?
As for what he wishes, he would give her gentle expressions of the love he feels for her and do his best to excite and arouse her with his actions. Perhaps he has decided to alternate both things, and at the moment is choosing to go for the former option, intending to switch to the latter simply to keep things exciting for both of them.
For now, he is content to position himself so that he is still above her, but resting on his side so that his hands remain free to touch her hair as they please. His head tilts to one side as she begins speaking, and he momentarily quiets as if sensing that what she is about to tell him is important but not easy for her to speak of. ]
You are not a real witch? [ He has had his suspicions, naturally, but they were just that: suspicions. ] I sense that what you are about to tell me is difficult for you to relate to anyone, as I imagine you have not done so before, for your own reasons. But if you entrust this to me, I will not betray that trust, I assure you.
[ He feels bonded to her already, and not only because he has tasted her blood. They belong together, and because of that, he knows that he wishes to keep her secrets and his silence, if she asks him to.
But then he catches sight of her hand moving as she turns her palm over as if she intends to show him something. The moment he glimpses it is the same one in which he realizes the meaning of it, and his eyes widen with surprise. He suspected that there was more to her than what she had shared with him, but this confirms his suspicion, even if he could not have expected she was a white mage.
This revelation further confirms for him that both of them are somewhat outsiders, although she certainly faces more threats and danger than he does. He is still somewhat accepted although not necessarily welcome. Now he knows why she was, and still is, so afraid. When she sinks further into the bed, he follows after her, closing what little distance remains between them, and although he could do any number of things in this moment, he chooses to simply press a kiss to the side of her face while his hands move to gently take hold of her again.
He resolves in that moment to ensure that so long as he is nearby, she will have nothing to fear from anyone who might seek to do her harm. ]
no subject
Perhaps if she remains with him, they can learn how to live in such a world together.
He truly does not believe the words to be premature, but he can imagine the voices of the naysayers who would tell him he is acting rashly and without thinking. But what need is there for thinking when a voice seemingly from the past is telling him this is the path he should be on, that these are the steps he should take?
As for what he wishes, he would give her gentle expressions of the love he feels for her and do his best to excite and arouse her with his actions. Perhaps he has decided to alternate both things, and at the moment is choosing to go for the former option, intending to switch to the latter simply to keep things exciting for both of them.
For now, he is content to position himself so that he is still above her, but resting on his side so that his hands remain free to touch her hair as they please. His head tilts to one side as she begins speaking, and he momentarily quiets as if sensing that what she is about to tell him is important but not easy for her to speak of. ]
You are not a real witch? [ He has had his suspicions, naturally, but they were just that: suspicions. ] I sense that what you are about to tell me is difficult for you to relate to anyone, as I imagine you have not done so before, for your own reasons. But if you entrust this to me, I will not betray that trust, I assure you.
[ He feels bonded to her already, and not only because he has tasted her blood. They belong together, and because of that, he knows that he wishes to keep her secrets and his silence, if she asks him to.
But then he catches sight of her hand moving as she turns her palm over as if she intends to show him something. The moment he glimpses it is the same one in which he realizes the meaning of it, and his eyes widen with surprise. He suspected that there was more to her than what she had shared with him, but this confirms his suspicion, even if he could not have expected she was a white mage.
This revelation further confirms for him that both of them are somewhat outsiders, although she certainly faces more threats and danger than he does. He is still somewhat accepted although not necessarily welcome. Now he knows why she was, and still is, so afraid. When she sinks further into the bed, he follows after her, closing what little distance remains between them, and although he could do any number of things in this moment, he chooses to simply press a kiss to the side of her face while his hands move to gently take hold of her again.
He resolves in that moment to ensure that so long as he is nearby, she will have nothing to fear from anyone who might seek to do her harm. ]