[Point well made. This is not exactly the opportune moment to be discussing assessment and getting to the bottom of precisely why Balthier might enjoy having Aerith scold him. The right time? She can't say, but probably not one where they're intertwining with one another.
He draws her down effortlessly, though it's not as if she's making it terribly difficult for him. If anything, she's probably making it too easy, if only because she's testing herself. Testing what she's willing to expose to him. Teasing him with words, with the line of her frame, with the heat that lingers between her thighs. It's all a bunch of stepping stones in their relationship.
Heart is all well and good, but there is just... something miraculous about each moment that he puts his hands on her. His words stir deep within her that burning affection she seems to keep hidden beneath an otherwise innocent exterior. He needs her. He loves her. It's a similar feeling. Trying to understand that and parse it, figure out why and how. She only feels compelled to be near him.
His touch atop her hips is all the encouragement she needs. Fingers press into him, grip, and she uses that in tandem with his own movement to press herself atop him. He sinks against her, the coil of desire, heated adoration and lust in one inspiring the tightening of her hold on his skin. Her lips rest atop his chin as she gathers her breath or whatever may remain of her composure, breath hot and shuddering.]
...I love you, Balthier.
[Has she said that before? She can't recall. She's thought it, certainly. Contemplated saying it. Wondering if it's an okay thing for her to say, or if it's too deep to go into. If it binds them together too tightly. But maybe this is the right moment.]
no subject
He draws her down effortlessly, though it's not as if she's making it terribly difficult for him. If anything, she's probably making it too easy, if only because she's testing herself. Testing what she's willing to expose to him. Teasing him with words, with the line of her frame, with the heat that lingers between her thighs. It's all a bunch of stepping stones in their relationship.
Heart is all well and good, but there is just... something miraculous about each moment that he puts his hands on her. His words stir deep within her that burning affection she seems to keep hidden beneath an otherwise innocent exterior. He needs her. He loves her. It's a similar feeling. Trying to understand that and parse it, figure out why and how. She only feels compelled to be near him.
His touch atop her hips is all the encouragement she needs. Fingers press into him, grip, and she uses that in tandem with his own movement to press herself atop him. He sinks against her, the coil of desire, heated adoration and lust in one inspiring the tightening of her hold on his skin. Her lips rest atop his chin as she gathers her breath or whatever may remain of her composure, breath hot and shuddering.]
...I love you, Balthier.
[Has she said that before? She can't recall. She's thought it, certainly. Contemplated saying it. Wondering if it's an okay thing for her to say, or if it's too deep to go into. If it binds them together too tightly. But maybe this is the right moment.]