[ the menagerie was always brutal. there was no softness or attention paid to how she felt. and while she tenses (slightly) at the loosening of the robe, it's quickly overridden by the gentle kiss to her chest. it's such a soft motion that it immediately relaxes her, the breath she didn't know she was holding exhaling in a soft laugh, surprised at herself for being okay. ]
This thing is so big.
[ she says in mild exasperation, shifting herself a bit to loosely run her fingers through his hair, her other hand settling at his neck. she makes no move to fix the robe, but she's certain she looks ridiculous. definitely not sexy, if that matters.
( does it matter? it probably should. oh well. )
so, because it is so big, she gently shrugs herself the rest of the way out of it, letting the robe settle around her hips. covering her lower half, but leaving her top half bare. it feels a little more comfortable, weirdly, than leaving it half on. or maybe it's because she did it herself.
her smile has turned a little nervous, almost shy. the scarring along her arm where she had the tattoo removed is apparent, now. and she has several more, scattered around. some on her arms, another near her upper ribs. clients that got too daring, fights that she couldn't avoid.
her fingers fiddle with the loose tie on the robe for half a moment. because this feels like something she can't really reverse, taking off her shirt. too late to go back now. and maybe it was a mistake, to do this - maybe she should have waited. and she's about to apologize before she says the first thing that pops into her head, which is: ]
It is like ripping off a bandage. Sometimes. The - all of it.
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This thing is so big.
[ she says in mild exasperation, shifting herself a bit to loosely run her fingers through his hair, her other hand settling at his neck. she makes no move to fix the robe, but she's certain she looks ridiculous. definitely not sexy, if that matters.
( does it matter? it probably should. oh well. )
so, because it is so big, she gently shrugs herself the rest of the way out of it, letting the robe settle around her hips. covering her lower half, but leaving her top half bare. it feels a little more comfortable, weirdly, than leaving it half on. or maybe it's because she did it herself.
her smile has turned a little nervous, almost shy. the scarring along her arm where she had the tattoo removed is apparent, now. and she has several more, scattered around. some on her arms, another near her upper ribs. clients that got too daring, fights that she couldn't avoid.
her fingers fiddle with the loose tie on the robe for half a moment. because this feels like something she can't really reverse, taking off her shirt. too late to go back now. and maybe it was a mistake, to do this - maybe she should have waited. and she's about to apologize before she says the first thing that pops into her head, which is: ]
It is like ripping off a bandage. Sometimes. The - all of it.
[ way to ruin the moment, inej. ]