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[nightsung]

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[volkarin]

[ (In this moment, he thinks: she's always been this small, to him. Easy to take and carry in his arms, to hold — easy, because such closeness is meant to be. Loss had touched them early — which feels right, feels true — but they'd had each other. He'd known, then, what to do. That it was up to them to fill up the emptiness their parents had left behind.)

And in this moment, he smiles, leaning into the hollow of her palm. ]

Quite right, [ he says, gently squeezing their joined hands, ] I did promise, after all.

[ A promise sealed, now, with a kiss, stealing the faint taste of raspberry from her lips, though he's always known her to be sweet.

Into the sliver of space between them: ] Now, I believe you ought to be wearing much, much less.

[nightsung]

[ She's much warmer with him here; the world is much warmer with him in it. Whatever unease she'd felt on their arrival melts into the kiss, and Shadowheart follows Emmrich's mouth for one more, soft and languid. ]

Is that so? [ With a coy tilt of her head as they part, and Shadowheart guides his hand to the row of buttons between her shoulder blades. She needed Emmrich's help getting this dress on, a sleek satin thing, and will need his help again to get it off.

Winding her arms around Emmrich's neck, she arches her back so her chest is flush with his sternum. Teasing, ]

Here I thought I'd get this all wet, so it clings to my skin.