plotted starter. @noctiflores
Determined as any inexperienced lover could be:
“Show me—” No, that was the wrong phrasing. Ansgar winces as he shifts in bed, the ache of his encounter with Aemond still prevalent even after the wound has been healed and scarred. He inhales deeply and exhales before starting anew.
“How does she—” Eh, not quite. Teeth scrape the fleshiness of his bottom lip. “I want to, hm— satisfy you,” a good start, “but my ignorance seems, to me, a barrier.” A beat passes, silver hue locked intently on details of the canopy above.
“Lady Rosetta,” he begins cautiously, the pink hue blossoming on high cheekbones less evidence of any embarrassment of thinking of woman lying with woman and more so on how he could compete with a longtime companion. “What does she do to excite you?” Mentally, he prepares to take note.