[Continued from here because Tumblr Editors suck]
// @daughterofhighever-blog //
. With the clear night outside degenerating into a rhythmic trickle, his muscles melting and his nerves laid bare beneath those talented hands, the atmosphere was such that Solas began to drift. A dusting of pink colors his sharp cheekbones and stretches to the tapering points of his ears, punctuating the woeful droop to his head as he relaxes against his companion. Her skilled fingers brush and toy inadvertently with his ears, causing them to twitch.
. Solas presses the back of his hand to his cheek, as though in an attempt to hide his stark coloration.
. His consciousness seems to have its place in his skin, and it follows the individual movements of her hands, resting just beneath the surface to note when she adds or retracts her touch. A dull throbbing at the base of his skull accompanies the press of her fingers upon a particularly tight muscle, and its subsequent release gives him a wave of relief so strong it near bowls him over. He sighs, deeply.
. "It has been a long time since anyone paid me such attentions. I had almost forgotten how I enjoy it." He again brushes his hand against hers, as though in acknowledgement. This time his touch lingers, and the point of his index finger rests upon Elissa's nail.
"Though I am uncertain of how to... repay your kindness..."
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As Solas melted beneath her hands and leaned his head back against her chest, Elissa felt a flush begin to swell in her middle that made her feel uneasy. His skin was warm, and it felt good to touch him.
Though as she began to think just how much she enjoyed seeing the pleasure he experienced from her touch - the way his head would tilt and droop, the way that blush plumed across his face, and the way his ears twitched as if ticklish or shivering as she brushed them with her fingertips - that was when regret and guilt began to choke her with a bitter taste.
But the truth was, even against her conscious will, she could feel how his presence eased the painful edges of her grieving heart. She missed the warmth of another’s skin against her own; missed the sound of a beating heart beneath her head as she slept. She wanted. She needed. And she knew she shouldn’t. It was selfish of her, and it would be unfair to him.
Still sometimes she wondered if one day she might be able to start feeling whole again if this continued - whatever this even was...
Things would be said in that soothing voice of his that gave her reason to begin to laugh, before she’d cover her mouth in shame at forgetting her sadness even for the most passing and perfunctory of moments. Other times it was a little touch, a smile, the company of simply sitting in the same space. Moments would become minutes, and minutes would become hours. What would hours become if she let them?
How could you think to replace him? How could you take advantage of someone so dear in trying to?
Solas wasn’t looking at her face, he wouldn’t see. Elissa allowed her eyes to drift shut, and exhaled softly with a shudder at the sound of his deep, near moaning sigh. It was weakness, but her will to resist the impulse and desire for this closeness waned with every passing moment, with every additional heartbeat spent in his company.
She didn’t even realize she’d begun pressing forward to feel more of his back against her until the hard wood of the chair started to dig against her ribs. Elissa’s bright blue eyes snapped open when she felt the tender, lingering brush of his fingers over her own.
"Though I am uncertain of how to... repay your kindness..."
A wave of shame tightened her throat at the intrusive images the low timbre in his words thrust to the forefront of her mind - those of tangled limbs, whispered endearments, and sweet caresses. Her hands stilled at once, and her posture straightened even more abruptly. As she began to pull away from him, there was still hesitation as that traitorous voice whispered naggingly into her ear.
It is not a sin to soothe one’s pain... And you will not betray the dead in trying...
“I... I’m...” she said, stuttering with a shake of her head. “I think perhaps I ought to go.”