@pantachorei asked:
every move he made was tentative, mindful and accompanied by careful observation, for he would stop the second he was under the impression the gambler wished to oppose something. first, a hand carefully reached up, grasped his chin and kept his gaze directed towards his own, a silent few heartbeats passing before he moved to instead brush that jacket of his off his shoulders, though he had no intention to rob him of his clothes past that. then, his fingers trailed down his arms, gingerly and slowly while he shifted a little closer, head canting lightly, eyes never leaving those vibrant ones opposite of him. by the time he reached his wrists, his fingers deftly wiggled beneath his gloves, gradually pushed onto his palms and drew them off his hands. once his own digits founds his forearms again, he guided them up atop his shoulders, and his fingers into his hair. the scholar pushed closer still, eyes gradually growing half-lidded the less space was left between them, and his own hands coming to rest atop his hips. his nose touched against his cheek, tip tracing along his skin gently and lips parting almost against his better judgement, and slipping past his own knowledge.
Each time Veritas came to him so unexpectedly and with intentions he couldn't predict, he planted himself further under his skin. Of course the very first touch he offered was the definitive one -- not that he needed to direct his gaze onto him in the first place but it did mean that he kept his eyes on him throughout the whole process. Intoxicating as it was, difficult as it became to keep them open, to keep his heartbeat in check.
His composure went out of the window the moment he felt his fingers trailing down his arms and if he only knew that that was just the tip of the iceberg. He heard his jacket fall against the floor, the soft thud of heavy fabric pooling along his feet but he paid it little attention when he had more to focus on; like his fingers pushing under his gloves and forcing them down as well, having his hands twitch, as if possessed and come to life and push against his hands, eager to tangle their fingers together in that warm, inviting dance but Veritas had different ideas.
His breathing grew heavy and ragged, sounding loudly between them, in that small space that was left but he wasn't sure where to go from there. This was -- a prelude, he thought, something along the lines of it of what would come if he allowed that bridge between them to be crossed. He thought he rather liked the feeling of his fingers in his hair, of his nose pressed against his cheek and his soft, sweet scent enveloping him so fully he could easily convince himself outside of THEM, nothing really existed.
"Veritas," he murmured quietly, almost distracted by him completely and his head tilted to the side, his nose bumping against his. His fingers were slow and gentle, pushing further into that soft violet and farther still, as one hand slowly fell to his cheek, cradling him like he was something precious, something worth keeping close and protecting.
yousharknotpass
jbbartram-illu
gummygunk
baratheonpilled
origamiaround
andulkaphoto
2087
