[ Alan says, and would say, he isn't a great writer. That he understands fundamentals, concepts, and genres and is decent in those genres. That while he knows those he isn't some amazing American novelist like he always wanted to be. That fame came to him cheaply over novels that in his eyes couldn't begin to rival the people that he strived to be like. He would believe every single negative comment, critique, and reinforce them in his mind.
Jesse, however, believes entirely that he has mastered words. Or, at the very least, he has mastered the words that will elect the exact right (and sometimes horribly wrong) reactions from her. No simple writer could do that, given how she has closed herself off to the world.
His simple statements of love are the catalyst that sends her off. The timed movement and the words together make everything flash, and she's curling around him and stretching out at the same time. A low moan finds its way out among the heavy breaths and pleased sounds that only Alan Wake seems to know how to pull from her.
It leaves her dizzy and slightly disorientated with her head pounding, but she manages to kiss him and trail her fingers along the back of his neck and waist. The little touches to bring him to the point she's been pushed to. Her eyes flutter open to wat her as he hits his release.
She doesn't want it to end.
If time isn't on their side, and they have so much to make up for...
Her fingers brush through his hair as he eases into that state of post-ecstacy. Not that she stays in that frame of mind for long herself. A brush of a kiss to his lips before she guides him to roll over to his back. She gently moves over him, not quite sitting on his hips, waiting to see if he wants more. She does. That gravitational pull to him wants more. She wants him, and all of him, and for him to take all of her. It's almost primal in a way, and she can't help but worry that part of her is because of Polaris... and if it will scare him.
« I miss him. I don't want to let him go anymore. I want this. »
The hand at his hair trails to his face, brushing along his jaw and beard. Her breathing is deep, but eyes dark and searching his. ]
I love you. [ The words make her tremble slightly and her heart pounds. ] Alan Wake.
[ « Writer. Parautalitarian. However he describes himself. »
She leans back, hands trailing down his bare chest to the waistband of his sweatpants. She guides them off as he had hers. Then, she reaches up to herself and removes her tank top. Fingers unhook the suddenly very annoying bra, but she let's it hang off her in case he wishes to remove it. ]
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Jesse, however, believes entirely that he has mastered words. Or, at the very least, he has mastered the words that will elect the exact right (and sometimes horribly wrong) reactions from her. No simple writer could do that, given how she has closed herself off to the world.
His simple statements of love are the catalyst that sends her off. The timed movement and the words together make everything flash, and she's curling around him and stretching out at the same time. A low moan finds its way out among the heavy breaths and pleased sounds that only Alan Wake seems to know how to pull from her.
It leaves her dizzy and slightly disorientated with her head pounding, but she manages to kiss him and trail her fingers along the back of his neck and waist. The little touches to bring him to the point she's been pushed to. Her eyes flutter open to wat her as he hits his release.
She doesn't want it to end.
If time isn't on their side, and they have so much to make up for...
Her fingers brush through his hair as he eases into that state of post-ecstacy. Not that she stays in that frame of mind for long herself. A brush of a kiss to his lips before she guides him to roll over to his back. She gently moves over him, not quite sitting on his hips, waiting to see if he wants more. She does. That gravitational pull to him wants more. She wants him, and all of him, and for him to take all of her. It's almost primal in a way, and she can't help but worry that part of her is because of Polaris... and if it will scare him.
« I miss him. I don't want to let him go anymore. I want this. »
The hand at his hair trails to his face, brushing along his jaw and beard. Her breathing is deep, but eyes dark and searching his. ]
I love you. [ The words make her tremble slightly and her heart pounds. ] Alan Wake.
[ « Writer. Parautalitarian. However he describes himself. »
She leans back, hands trailing down his bare chest to the waistband of his sweatpants. She guides them off as he had hers. Then, she reaches up to herself and removes her tank top. Fingers unhook the suddenly very annoying bra, but she let's it hang off her in case he wishes to remove it. ]