[ By the time he goes slack against her, Aerith's too blissed out to do anything but laugh dazedly as she lets both her arms wrap loosely around his upper back, holding him to her, as her heartbeat gradually starts to slow and the world softens. The morning light grows less pale as the minutes tick by, signifying the passage of a time Aerith chooses to not acknowledge while she's too busy memorizing the feeling of him spent and flush against her in the afterglow. ]
Morning, Tseng.
[ There's a note of music hanging on the end of his name that Aerith rounds into a gentle, giddy giggle. This is good. It's been so long since Aerith has had somewhere to direct all the love she carries around. The garden and Leaf House are wonderful outlets, but the satisfaction she gets from all the noble ways she's found to pass the time doesn't compare to how revivifying, how engrossing, it is, to have her body curved up against his shape while her fingers drift between drawing absent patterns on his back, and idly playing with his hair. ]
[ The sound of her laughter, a soft thing, reverberates through him. A small shift of his hips has him realizing just how deeply they're still pressed together, and that neither of them have moved to break the connection yet. Tseng exhales, dragging his mouth over hers in a slow kiss. A lazy kind of indulgence settles in him, something not completely familiar. It's been a while for him, too. There's always something else to occupy his mind, something more immediate. That kind of focus has served him well, kept things simple and in order. There have been no noble outlets. It'd been unnecessary. Or perhaps, more truthfully, impossible.
He's certainly never thought about how it would feel to have her fingers in his hair, either. Now that she's doing it, though, idly twining strands between her fingers, smoothing them back only for them to fall across his back again, Tseng finds it difficult to think about anything else. Except for the fact that he's always watched her. Duty demanded he memorized the way Aerith smiles, the way her eyes flicker with mischief or steel. But he's never touched her, not with both hands on her. Tseng lifts his head. ]
Good morning. [ His dark eyes hold onto hers with an intent that feels different from the way he usually looks at her. His usually clipped tone has slipped away . ]
[ If she could, she would freeze this moment and give herself the luxury of endless time to memorize every facet. She wants to be able to recall his skin and the smooth silk of his hair against his hands, how the moisture of his breath clings to her kiss-swollen lips as he exhales against her mouth before claiming it in another kiss.
Aerith can feel herself relaxing into the bed, but she keeps her limbs wrapped around him, her legs loose but still settled on his hips with no sign of inclination to shift and let him move. She's watched him for too long not to treasure being able to touch all the places she's studied, to let this little pocket in the universe where the complications waiting outside her door don't matter exist for as long as it can.
He lifts his head, and her eyes widen ever so slightly. He's always been beautiful, but taking it in while they're like this is almost startling. Her eyes are bright as the fingers in his hair lift, pushing it over his shoulder to reveal his collarbone, letting her gaze follow before it meets his again. ]
[ Ah, "good," he's said. A greeting exchanged not without some level of detachment, but when he says it to her, it's different. Tseng's lips curve, letting his eyes trace over her face. He agrees, it is.
Then he wonders if this is how Aerith has felt all this time. If the way he's looked at her has had the same effect on her as it's having on him now. His chest tightens, a realization that he's never really known what it feels like to be on the receiving end of that gaze, and it's a strange, humbling thought. To even make that comparison means he's been looking at her like this for a long, long time, and makes Tseng's claim of his ever professional distance a new falsehood.
Aerith brushes through his hair, her fingernails graze his skin, able to roam over his naked body in places she shouldn't be privy to. Tseng lays in the morning light reflected in her verdant eyes. After his mind has stopped swirling around the idea, he's decided to let her keep looking. Half under the sheets, he strokes her leg, hip to knee. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2025-02-25 03:09 am (UTC)Morning, Tseng.
[ There's a note of music hanging on the end of his name that Aerith rounds into a gentle, giddy giggle. This is good. It's been so long since Aerith has had somewhere to direct all the love she carries around. The garden and Leaf House are wonderful outlets, but the satisfaction she gets from all the noble ways she's found to pass the time doesn't compare to how revivifying, how engrossing, it is, to have her body curved up against his shape while her fingers drift between drawing absent patterns on his back, and idly playing with his hair. ]
no subject
Date: 2025-03-03 10:21 pm (UTC)He's certainly never thought about how it would feel to have her fingers in his hair, either. Now that she's doing it, though, idly twining strands between her fingers, smoothing them back only for them to fall across his back again, Tseng finds it difficult to think about anything else. Except for the fact that he's always watched her. Duty demanded he memorized the way Aerith smiles, the way her eyes flicker with mischief or steel. But he's never touched her, not with both hands on her. Tseng lifts his head. ]
Good morning. [ His dark eyes hold onto hers with an intent that feels different from the way he usually looks at her. His usually clipped tone has slipped away . ]
no subject
Date: 2025-03-09 04:51 am (UTC)Aerith can feel herself relaxing into the bed, but she keeps her limbs wrapped around him, her legs loose but still settled on his hips with no sign of inclination to shift and let him move. She's watched him for too long not to treasure being able to touch all the places she's studied, to let this little pocket in the universe where the complications waiting outside her door don't matter exist for as long as it can.
He lifts his head, and her eyes widen ever so slightly. He's always been beautiful, but taking it in while they're like this is almost startling. Her eyes are bright as the fingers in his hair lift, pushing it over his shoulder to reveal his collarbone, letting her gaze follow before it meets his again. ]
It really is.
no subject
Date: 2025-03-14 10:35 pm (UTC)Then he wonders if this is how Aerith has felt all this time. If the way he's looked at her has had the same effect on her as it's having on him now. His chest tightens, a realization that he's never really known what it feels like to be on the receiving end of that gaze, and it's a strange, humbling thought. To even make that comparison means he's been looking at her like this for a long, long time, and makes Tseng's claim of his ever professional distance a new falsehood.
Aerith brushes through his hair, her fingernails graze his skin, able to roam over his naked body in places she shouldn't be privy to. Tseng lays in the morning light reflected in her verdant eyes. After his mind has stopped swirling around the idea, he's decided to let her keep looking. Half under the sheets, he strokes her leg, hip to knee. ]