Long Game 𑣲. Qimir (The Acolyte)
Summary: You're not some weak girl that Qimir so easily can take what he wants from. He must play the long game to ever get the ache you ignite in him satisfied.
Tags: Sexual Themes and References, Not Smut, Drabble, Pining, Descriptions of Female Anatomy, Angst if You Squint.
The air circulating throughout the star ship is cool and crisp, it smells so clean that it gives its artificial origin away. The coldness of it pricks your bare skin as you remove your top, Qimir turns around as soon as you begin to do so. Turning around isn't his immediate instinct or even want and definitely not in his opportunistic nature. If you'd allow it, he wouldn't have turned around while you undress. If you'd allow it, he'd watch you bathe in the cool water of the inlets on the beach.
Everything about the powerful and apathetic energy that radiates from the Sith says he's the type of man to kick back and watch you dress yourself in his garments. Even if you were clearly squirming with shyness under the weight of the hot coals that is his gaze.
But, you're different. Strong, sure and not one to conform to him just because he tried it or shoots you a certain look. He can't take from you, he knows if he tried you'd cut him for it without hesitation. You emit the energy of a strong wall and a wise old owl, all wrapped in the skin of the most ethereal woman he's ever encountered. So much so that the moment Qimir met you, he knew that he'd have to take a different approach to gaining any sort of closeness to you.
He knows that you don't desire for his eyes to be laid on you in the way that he wants to. At least not yet.
So he denies himself the easily obtainable gift of a glance at your breasts, deciding to play the long game instead. It's better to wait for you to show yourself to him time and time again because you're comfortable with it. Then to force from you the peek that he wants and that be the first, last and only time he sees you unclothed.
You untie the dainty strings securing your shirt around your waist then pull the garment over your head. You're now bare from the waist up, your breasts spring free and hardened nipples almost instantly accompany your chill bumps.
Qimir can hear your every movement, every breath, the sound of your hair brushing against the fabric you just pulled over your head. The rustling of clothing and the moment your breasts were released from your top; bouncing against your smooth skin after the garment pulled past them on the way up and off. His hands clench and unclench into tight fists by his side. His desire to see your pretty face accompanied by your pretty chest is a weight that sits on his every cell; trying to steer him in a certain direction.
He doesn't turn around, he won't. But the warm heat of your body and bareness buzzes across his back towards which your chest is facing. He tries to not think about what your hard nipples would feel like pressing into his skin.
His hyper awareness of your exposed nature being so close to him, all but causes him to be able to see your form without eyes. In his mind's eye he can imagine the roundness of your bust, atop his skin he can feel your softness. In his mouth he can taste your skin. The essence of you floats in the air and into his nostrils then graze his tastebuds. Just the knowledge of you being totally exposed from the waist up just behind him causes a pricking feeling of hyperactive nerves to creep up his neck.
You grab the shirt he'd given you from where you're holding it between your knees and put it on. "Thanks for the shirt." You pull down the shirt comfortably just past your belt and fix the hairs that it had moved out of place.
He finally turns around to face you and is almost disappointed that you had in fact put the shirt on. A part of him that you make delusional hoped that maybe you'd let yourself still be topless when you gave him the go-ahead to turn back around. "It looks better on you anyway." He tells no lie. The words purr from the back of his throat, he speaks the way a snake slithers. You never know if it's him speaking, or the sound of the dark side fused with his blood that it coats every word with seduction.
His expression is stoic yet aware as usual and his eyes carry their typical darkness but are never dull. But behind his composed expression, is a man that knows he won't be able to have as much self control next time. All he can hope is that you're ready for that.
