[Her heart flutters feebly, a brief sunspot of hope stirring at the mention of meeting again, stretching across states and time for one brief, shining moment of bliss—imagine them, being able to stroll along the boardwalk arm in arm, or sharing coffee and sweet tea at an open café in the warm spring sunlight, or exchanging kisses as innocently as any untroubled couple might.
Yet just as quickly, the illusion is filled with cracks and flaws, the thin veneer of the fantasy as flimsy and fragile as silk thread. No city will feel as comfortable or welcoming as this little hotel room, not while she still wears a diamond upon her finger and a bruise upon her skin, not while he still remains an enigma to her.]
If it's not terribly forward—
[She nods meekly, her eyes bright with tears, a telltale dampness having clung to her lashes. She presses drowsily into the secure warmth of his arms, and just when it seems as if the silence will stretch on into an eternity, she drawls out in a hesitant, but quite serious tone:]
May I have a good bye?
[Let him take it as he will, let him devise the meaning behind her words. What-ever he may give as a departing gift, she wants, so desperately, some sweet ending to the night. She smiles as if holding together the fragments of her heart, to prevent it from breaking.]
[He could take that in many ways, could take it as a completely sexual desire, could take it as something entirely sweet, and he knows it's up for him to interpret it as he will. He can also tell that there're tears in her eyes, that she's feeling sad about their parting, and recognizes that he is, too.
It's hard to imagine that he could develop feelings for someone quite so quickly after meeting them, but he hadn't been lying when he'd said that he could come to love her. Maybe he even is beginning to love her, in some sense. It's not necessarily a wise choice, and he knows it, but that doesn't matter, not nearly as much as the affection he feels for her.
So he pulls her even closer still, pressing another kiss to her lips, just as passionate and just as filled with affection as the previous ones had been.]
You can stay here, y'know. We can both stay here.
[Another bad idea? She has a husband to get back to. He has... well, that doesn't matter. That doesn't stop him from wanting to make the night last longer, though.]
[It's a mad idea, but when he hold her so close, his kiss as intoxicating as any amount of champagne or cigarettes, how could she refuse? If just for now, if just for tonight, she wants to believe that they could escape the confines of their own lives. That, for once, he may see her as more than the world sees her—as more than just the dreamy darling wife of an esteemed empire, as more than just a golden girl who wants for nothing, who longs for nothing, and certainly is not vulnerable to the ache of heartbreak.]
I want to stay.
[She confesses, soft but resolute. If she could, she would rather spend not just tonight, but tomorrow, and perhaps even the day after, with him in this private hotel, this room where everything else beyond him and his ecstatic touch seems to no longer exist.
She entwines her arms around his shoulders, pressing one, two, then three chaste kisses to his mouth in succession, each with increasing desperation, a combination of grief and longing with eroticism and romance, equal parts sweet and bitter.]
[It seems that simple to him, although he knows it isn't. He knows there could be all kinds of consequences, especially because she has a husband who might be looking for her, one who might suspect something like this if she stays out all night. But his desires overwhelm his ability to think logically about it, and though he knows there are all kinds of reasons they shouldn't do this...
Well, the way she kisses back, the way she expresses her desire to stay, that's enough to outweigh anything else. And though he can feel the sadness in her kiss, he can feel the desire, too, and he likes it, wants to encourage it.
So he just holds her close, kissing her back, squeezing her tightly, as though he doesn't want to let go at all.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Yet just as quickly, the illusion is filled with cracks and flaws, the thin veneer of the fantasy as flimsy and fragile as silk thread. No city will feel as comfortable or welcoming as this little hotel room, not while she still wears a diamond upon her finger and a bruise upon her skin, not while he still remains an enigma to her.]
If it's not terribly forward—
[She nods meekly, her eyes bright with tears, a telltale dampness having clung to her lashes. She presses drowsily into the secure warmth of his arms, and just when it seems as if the silence will stretch on into an eternity, she drawls out in a hesitant, but quite serious tone:]
May I have a good bye?
[Let him take it as he will, let him devise the meaning behind her words. What-ever he may give as a departing gift, she wants, so desperately, some sweet ending to the night. She smiles as if holding together the fragments of her heart, to prevent it from breaking.]
no subject
It's hard to imagine that he could develop feelings for someone quite so quickly after meeting them, but he hadn't been lying when he'd said that he could come to love her. Maybe he even is beginning to love her, in some sense. It's not necessarily a wise choice, and he knows it, but that doesn't matter, not nearly as much as the affection he feels for her.
So he pulls her even closer still, pressing another kiss to her lips, just as passionate and just as filled with affection as the previous ones had been.]
You can stay here, y'know. We can both stay here.
[Another bad idea? She has a husband to get back to. He has... well, that doesn't matter. That doesn't stop him from wanting to make the night last longer, though.]
no subject
[It's a mad idea, but when he hold her so close, his kiss as intoxicating as any amount of champagne or cigarettes, how could she refuse? If just for now, if just for tonight, she wants to believe that they could escape the confines of their own lives. That, for once, he may see her as more than the world sees her—as more than just the dreamy darling wife of an esteemed empire, as more than just a golden girl who wants for nothing, who longs for nothing, and certainly is not vulnerable to the ache of heartbreak.]
I want to stay.
[She confesses, soft but resolute. If she could, she would rather spend not just tonight, but tomorrow, and perhaps even the day after, with him in this private hotel, this room where everything else beyond him and his ecstatic touch seems to no longer exist.
She entwines her arms around his shoulders, pressing one, two, then three chaste kisses to his mouth in succession, each with increasing desperation, a combination of grief and longing with eroticism and romance, equal parts sweet and bitter.]
no subject
[It seems that simple to him, although he knows it isn't. He knows there could be all kinds of consequences, especially because she has a husband who might be looking for her, one who might suspect something like this if she stays out all night. But his desires overwhelm his ability to think logically about it, and though he knows there are all kinds of reasons they shouldn't do this...
Well, the way she kisses back, the way she expresses her desire to stay, that's enough to outweigh anything else. And though he can feel the sadness in her kiss, he can feel the desire, too, and he likes it, wants to encourage it.
So he just holds her close, kissing her back, squeezing her tightly, as though he doesn't want to let go at all.]