[ Part of him did find it surprising, at the suggestion- while they have oft worked and collaborated together, he did not expect to be sought out for something else so soon after their...first encounter, all things considering. Adelis could have declined, preferring to find someone else, and yet he found himself accepting once again.
It was not as internally jarring as his lack of proper hesitance towards sleeping together, but he still finds his brows knitting at how easily he finds it himself to agree, despite the awkward feelings it brings. They have sat and drank before, and in turn exchanged blows on opposite ends of a conflict, and yet here they are. On a bloody beach, with a picnic basket.
This feels wrong, somehow. For them. And yet he doesn't get up and leave, despite Adelis' instincts telling him to as the hands glide down his back. Hands that could make some swift movement and end it all, in several ways- a blade to the throat, a knife to the head, a slit to the spine. But they are soft, and gentle in their care, enough so it has him questioning the other's motives.
He opts to focus on the conversation instead, rather than the itching beneath his skin. ]
Hmph. I don't intend to leave. Only those who marry get to escape, or so we've been told, and I'm holding to that. [ Of that, he doesn't doubt much- she seems intent in her methods, and it would seem a waste to throw them after all this effort. ] And I've never been fond of anything vast and empty- you may feel free to throw yourself into the depths without abandon, but I will not.
[ Just because he had to learn to swim by force doesn't mean he has any desire to do so. If he has no reason to go in there, he certainly won't.
The suggestion makes him freeze up for another moment, as he processes it completely- in addition to the hands on his waist. He allowed the back, but the front as well? He shoves down whatever aggravated fluster threatens to rise as he gives his head one solid shake.]
Give it here. I'll do it myself.
[ Critical sensory overload indeed. Weird feelings arise at the idea of entertaining it, enough that rather than attempt to endure or put a name to it, he opts to decline. One side is enough, and he's sure other things will qualify enough for a 'date' without allowing the other to feel up his front as well. ]
no subject
It was not as internally jarring as his lack of proper hesitance towards sleeping together, but he still finds his brows knitting at how easily he finds it himself to agree, despite the awkward feelings it brings. They have sat and drank before, and in turn exchanged blows on opposite ends of a conflict, and yet here they are. On a bloody beach, with a picnic basket.
This feels wrong, somehow. For them. And yet he doesn't get up and leave, despite Adelis' instincts telling him to as the hands glide down his back. Hands that could make some swift movement and end it all, in several ways- a blade to the throat, a knife to the head, a slit to the spine. But they are soft, and gentle in their care, enough so it has him questioning the other's motives.
He opts to focus on the conversation instead, rather than the itching beneath his skin. ]
Hmph. I don't intend to leave. Only those who marry get to escape, or so we've been told, and I'm holding to that. [ Of that, he doesn't doubt much- she seems intent in her methods, and it would seem a waste to throw them after all this effort. ] And I've never been fond of anything vast and empty- you may feel free to throw yourself into the depths without abandon, but I will not.
[ Just because he had to learn to swim by force doesn't mean he has any desire to do so. If he has no reason to go in there, he certainly won't.
The suggestion makes him freeze up for another moment, as he processes it completely- in addition to the hands on his waist. He allowed the back, but the front as well? He shoves down whatever aggravated fluster threatens to rise as he gives his head one solid shake.]
Give it here. I'll do it myself.
[ Critical sensory overload indeed. Weird feelings arise at the idea of entertaining it, enough that rather than attempt to endure or put a name to it, he opts to decline. One side is enough, and he's sure other things will qualify enough for a 'date' without allowing the other to feel up his front as well. ]