just kiss me , already . for cullen heheheh
"AH -- MISTRESS HAWKE, i -- um, well, i don't think that would be, ah.. a particularly good idea..." there's a nervous laughter 'pon smiling lips in the midst of his speech.. and particularly would be considered a gross understatement. such a truth which sat uncomfortably between them, as he scrambles to stand from the seat he had taken upon her bedside. even if he was trying to be polite about it.... his motions are quick yet jilted, clearly shaken off kilter by the suggestion made in tantalizing purr. cheeks having been turned a particularly emasculating shade of pink, through little fault of his own.
his clinking and clanging armour of the templar now sat as an unwelcome presence, rather than the shield it has oft become, as of late. as if an insurmountable weight upon his shoulders. the very armour that perplexingly seemed to attract rather than repel, when it came to the messere... such inclined to cause a lot more pressing issues than cullen would like to admit. moral, or otherwise. it seemed, she had some sort of unhealthy sexual attraction to the very people whom she had spent her entire life running away from! an apostate! he can hardly believe it, himself.
there were enough -- unsavoury rumours being spread about his previous .. feelings towards a certain mage, back at kinloch hold... those which in turn spurred questions regarding his judgment, when it came to his resolve in dealing with mages in the gallows. the apostates, whom were seemingly attempting to flee the free marches in droves. however, while meredith had done her best to quell these rumours when she had heard of them -- cullen had done enough in his tenure to quiet many doubts on his own. and though he'd not garnered half the reputation of someone like ser alrik, he had been known to be steadfast and without hesitation when it came to his maker given duty. something he had not always been able to say..
meredith knows the truth, as he felt camaraderie enough to divulge it in the wake of the whispers. just as he had been told the truth of her sister, and the templar who had saved her young life. his status as her right hand has caused him to trust in her.. quickly promoted, despite the knight commander back in ferelden shipping him off as damaged goods. writing him off, as such. and perhaps she had convinced him not to make the same assertion of himself, before it was too late.
whether that was for better or for worse however, has yet to be seen.
he had needed to press forth, and accept meredith's guidance in the wake of his shaken resolve. he had thought he'd known that mages were no longer to be trusted -- his body having felt wrung, and used in the face of his formerly bleeding heart. before, the mere memories that caused eyes to squeeze shut in their wake, were enough to deter him from any lingering doubts regarding meredith's conduct. the cold sweat coating his body when he awoke to ceaseless nightmares. until, perhaps, the apex of this conflict began looming over perceived horrors, causing more and more templars to turn away from their cause.
the slash, bright red across his face, had been taken close to the hawke estate. blooming with a shine of salve applied by the mage, as she'd ushered him inside. the two having been ambushed by a group of local thugs, while walking and talking with one another. however, now it all seemed much too familiar.
hawke, after having found out about her status as an apostate, is someone who had come to surprise cullen -- all things considered. however, being around her now caused a great deal of tension. it wasn't her fault.. not entirely. with all he'd experienced, it was only natural that mages cause him a great deal of anxiety. and her strong flirtations had done nothing to quell such anxious tendencies, especially with meredith's leniency regarding her now beginning to wear thin.
his gauntlet-clad fingers flex, mouth opening as his heart seizes in his throat. "it- well, it's not that i don't want to -- i mean, i don't.." he winces, shaking his head as he raises his hands protectively before him. palms forward.
he feels as though he were in fight or flight mode, heart beating a million miles a moment as she draws closer to him -- initiating a step back, and a gulp of building saliva. "ah.. i -- wouldn't want to put you in .. unnecessary danger. no.. that would be.. well.. very irresponsible of me." [...] "i mean, what if -- what if somebody were to find out what we were doing?" maker, now what if he's giving her the wrong idea? his palms are sweating! what is he to say? he has never truly gotten over the mage he'd fallen in love with in ferelden? that he hadn't even considered having anyone in his life, after what had taken place? that he was a bloody virgin? or perhaps he just didn't want to admit that, yes -- he did indeed want this.
"maker preserve me.. why do you insist on tempting me, like this?"
MAKING DEMANDS. @magefell.
