[Oh right, the plushies. It's her cue to spot the aforementioned fluffballs by a random corner of the room and sigh with a wry smile. At the very least, they've reverting back to their usual playful dynamic, and the constant push and pull between them is just as evident.]
Those llamas are so cute and soft! Can you blame me for wanting the entire collection? Especially the rainbow one?
[Maybe it's because whenever she looks fondly at the llama plushies, it's a soft reminder of her home. Or maybe it's from Rafayel getting them for her during those obnoxiously difficult crane machines. (Spoiler alert: it's both.) How she kept failing at maneuvering such things despite her constant tries is beyond her.
There's a buried groan in the back of her throat from the slight hair ruffle, and she huffs, quickly straightening her hair back into place.]
Aww, that's cute of you to offer! [Retaliate? Yes. She turns to squish his cheeks gently between her hands.] But the cake is pretty big, no? Big enough for two people to eat. I'd say we should take turns just to make things fair.
I don't blame you, but I can point out the fact that our home is slowly being invaded by them. [ a sly "our home" slipped in there. but, just the idea seems to put rafayel in a good mood. ] Besides, even without them, you still have me.
[ there is no rainbow ssr version of rafayel though.
but, it's mostly in jest. it's clear that she isn't the only one whose enjoyed all those trips the arcade. almost as clear as the swell of pride he seems to feel when seeing his newest art piece (i.e. her hair), only for her to swiftly get her revenge. his expression falters justly slightly, his cheeks a bit warm. ]
We can take turns. But maybe it won't be just the cake I'm eating.
[ yes, casually talking about eating each other. the love language... ]
Relax! This will be their own territory. No invasion required. [Yeah, that's getting an amused snort.] Your spot will be safe, I promise.
[Our home.
Just because she hasn't acknowledged it doesn't mean she hasn't heard it. Her expression softens and her gaze lingers, just long enough for warmth to spread her cheeks. Rafayel always seems to have a knack for disarming her, his actions more potent than words alone, but she's not far behind even if his innuendo elicits a soft giggle out of her.]
Hah... I wonder which is sweeter. You, or the cake?
[All that said right as the hold on his cheeks soften into a casual caress with her fingertips, absorbing the heat. Casually falling in line with their special brand of love language, as shameless as it is irresistible... yup.]
Good, otherwise I was ready to file a complaint with the manager.
[ lol,
still, there is a lingering softness to his expression; clearly different than the face he normally wore within the confines of his art gallery of high-end functions. as much as she may be able to lower her guard around him, he'd like to think he's much the same, and it shows even in his relaxed posture or the way in which he tilts his head just slightly, as if to lean into her touch. ]
Think the answer is obvious, but you can always try it for yourself... [ as his words trail off, he does lean in closer, just enough for his breath to tickle her lips. instead just presses a kiss on the corner of her lips, almost as if missing short of their target. he figures he should at least give her that much room to escape. ]
[Repeated murmurs drift out of her in a whisper, as easily as she breathes. She'd have to be blind not to notice the subtle softness of his features or his posture, noticeably at ease around her. Transfixed by the sight before her, it's as if she's the moth to his human shaped flame with little to no time to put up her emotional barrier. Why would she when he looks and feels good under her fingertips?
Before she can even say anything else, she senses a ticklish feeling on her lips that make them quiver, crinkling her nose and letting out a soft chortle once he kisses a corner of her lips. There's a faint fruity scent lingering from the chapstick that she's currently wearing.]
Why don't you try first?
[All said in a teasing tone because it's not Ambrosia if she takes the bait first, of course. Closing her eyes, she gently bumps the tip of her nose against his.]
[ for a moment, he studies her features for any insight into even a fraction of the emotions she actually displays. instead, he isn't sure if he gains any more or less, but he does feel the heat reach his own ears for a moment. he isn't sure if it's her feelings or his own. even now, all he can hear is the steady pulsing of his own heightened heart rate.
when she finally answers his question with one of her own, he almost has to laugh. in reality, he's probably thought of a million ways this would have gone, and yet... he doesn't really feel like it's losing. not as she closes her eyes and he leans to meet her the rest of the way, his own hand is careful as it touches the side of her neck, just enough for him to angle himself to press a chaste kiss on her lips.
he doesn't fully pull away, before: ] So, what do you think?
[Is this what it feels like to crave something so close that her heart races just from the sheer thought alone? To feel a little tipsy without drinking a sip of liquor? A very silly notion, if she's honest with herself, but the part of her who yearns for affection is very satiated. That, she can't deny. Her nagging conscience that sometimes barges in and gives her headaches — the kind that screeches such phrases as 'You don't deserve Rafayel, you greedy woman!' — remains silent (much to her relief).
No need to put on false pretenses like she's on a mission, gathering highly coveted intel by pretending to be something she's not. Her trembling lips don't lie and neither do her hands, thumbs gently tracing the apples of his cheeks. Her heart, thumping against her chest relentlessly, is all the truth she needs.
Ambrosia doesn't answer him right away — not verbally, at least. She's being greedy and she knows it, returning his chaste kiss with one of her own, just to savor his hand on her neck and his lips on hers. Once she slowly opens her eyes to meet his gaze, her breath hitches and she responds, almost in a whisper:]
[ there's a split second where he deliberates on if there wasn't a better place to do this. perhaps, he could have expertly led her out from the balcony and towards the white sand of beach that acts as a perimeter to his home. or maybe, he could have held it in a second longer, let the tension linger for just a few more seconds.
but, the moment in which their lips touch and their breaths intermingle — he swiftly realized it didn't actually matter. it just felt right. even now as he feels her kiss in return, he feels his fingertips grow hot. at her words, there's a quiet, subdued chuckle on the edge of his lips. ] Then... [ his voice is breathy and barely above a whisper. almost as if he were sharing a secret just between the two of them. ] Don't forget you started this.
[ rafayel doesn't wait before he presses his lips back on hers. he gently guides her head slightly, his tongue brushing against her lower lip as he deepens the kiss. the self-control he once exhibited feels a lot like an illusion now, even to him. then again, he doesn't exactly have room for those thoughts. not anymore, at least. ]
[It's definitely not enough. Not a single shred of self-restraint to be found, so how can she possibly resist when it all feels so right? If Rafayel isn't complaining, then neither will she — certainly not when their lips are too preoccupied with each other's to put into words how they feel.
The breathiness of his voice tickles her ears and coaxes a drawn-out sigh out of her, a feeling of lightness enveloping her, soothing her. She could try and insist that, no, he started it with the innuendo, but that's just not possible now. His lips are just too soft and warm against hers, and oh, his tongue is working wonders as her bottom lip trembles. Her greediness is amplified from the way she parts her lips to deepen the kiss further, and maybe — just maybe — capture his tongue in between them for a light suckle.
(There is no 'maybe'. When it comes to passion, Ambrosia never does it half-baked.)
Gentle electric sparks travel down Ambrosia's spine and settle into the back of her neck, encouraging her to press herself close, arms loosely wrapped around his neck to ground herself and keep her knees from turning into jelly, at least a little bit.]
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no subject
Those llamas are so cute and soft! Can you blame me for wanting the entire collection? Especially the rainbow one?
[Maybe it's because whenever she looks fondly at the llama plushies, it's a soft reminder of her home. Or maybe it's from Rafayel getting them for her during those obnoxiously difficult crane machines. (Spoiler alert: it's both.) How she kept failing at maneuvering such things despite her constant tries is beyond her.
There's a buried groan in the back of her throat from the slight hair ruffle, and she huffs, quickly straightening her hair back into place.]
Aww, that's cute of you to offer! [Retaliate? Yes. She turns to squish his cheeks gently between her hands.] But the cake is pretty big, no? Big enough for two people to eat. I'd say we should take turns just to make things fair.
no subject
[ there is no rainbow ssr version of rafayel though.
but, it's mostly in jest. it's clear that she isn't the only one whose enjoyed all those trips the arcade. almost as clear as the swell of pride he seems to feel when seeing his newest art piece (i.e. her hair), only for her to swiftly get her revenge. his expression falters justly slightly, his cheeks a bit warm. ]
We can take turns. But maybe it won't be just the cake I'm eating.
[ yes, casually talking about eating each other. the love language... ]
no subject
[Our home.
Just because she hasn't acknowledged it doesn't mean she hasn't heard it. Her expression softens and her gaze lingers, just long enough for warmth to spread her cheeks. Rafayel always seems to have a knack for disarming her, his actions more potent than words alone, but she's not far behind even if his innuendo elicits a soft giggle out of her.]
Hah... I wonder which is sweeter. You, or the cake?
[All that said right as the hold on his cheeks soften into a casual caress with her fingertips, absorbing the heat. Casually falling in line with their special brand of love language, as shameless as it is irresistible... yup.]
no subject
[ lol,
still, there is a lingering softness to his expression; clearly different than the face he normally wore within the confines of his art gallery of high-end functions. as much as she may be able to lower her guard around him, he'd like to think he's much the same, and it shows even in his relaxed posture or the way in which he tilts his head just slightly, as if to lean into her touch. ]
Think the answer is obvious, but you can always try it for yourself... [ as his words trail off, he does lean in closer, just enough for his breath to tickle her lips. instead just presses a kiss on the corner of her lips, almost as if missing short of their target. he figures he should at least give her that much room to escape. ]
no subject
[Repeated murmurs drift out of her in a whisper, as easily as she breathes. She'd have to be blind not to notice the subtle softness of his features or his posture, noticeably at ease around her. Transfixed by the sight before her, it's as if she's the moth to his human shaped flame with little to no time to put up her emotional barrier. Why would she when he looks and feels good under her fingertips?
Before she can even say anything else, she senses a ticklish feeling on her lips that make them quiver, crinkling her nose and letting out a soft chortle once he kisses a corner of her lips. There's a faint fruity scent lingering from the chapstick that she's currently wearing.]
Why don't you try first?
[All said in a teasing tone because it's not Ambrosia if she takes the bait first, of course. Closing her eyes, she gently bumps the tip of her nose against his.]
no subject
when she finally answers his question with one of her own, he almost has to laugh. in reality, he's probably thought of a million ways this would have gone, and yet... he doesn't really feel like it's losing. not as she closes her eyes and he leans to meet her the rest of the way, his own hand is careful as it touches the side of her neck, just enough for him to angle himself to press a chaste kiss on her lips.
he doesn't fully pull away, before: ] So, what do you think?
no subject
No need to put on false pretenses like she's on a mission, gathering highly coveted intel by pretending to be something she's not. Her trembling lips don't lie and neither do her hands, thumbs gently tracing the apples of his cheeks. Her heart, thumping against her chest relentlessly, is all the truth she needs.
Ambrosia doesn't answer him right away — not verbally, at least. She's being greedy and she knows it, returning his chaste kiss with one of her own, just to savor his hand on her neck and his lips on hers. Once she slowly opens her eyes to meet his gaze, her breath hitches and she responds, almost in a whisper:]
It's not enough.
no subject
but, the moment in which their lips touch and their breaths intermingle — he swiftly realized it didn't actually matter. it just felt right. even now as he feels her kiss in return, he feels his fingertips grow hot. at her words, there's a quiet, subdued chuckle on the edge of his lips. ] Then... [ his voice is breathy and barely above a whisper. almost as if he were sharing a secret just between the two of them. ] Don't forget you started this.
[ rafayel doesn't wait before he presses his lips back on hers. he gently guides her head slightly, his tongue brushing against her lower lip as he deepens the kiss. the self-control he once exhibited feels a lot like an illusion now, even to him. then again, he doesn't exactly have room for those thoughts. not anymore, at least. ]
no subject
The breathiness of his voice tickles her ears and coaxes a drawn-out sigh out of her, a feeling of lightness enveloping her, soothing her. She could try and insist that, no, he started it with the innuendo, but that's just not possible now. His lips are just too soft and warm against hers, and oh, his tongue is working wonders as her bottom lip trembles. Her greediness is amplified from the way she parts her lips to deepen the kiss further, and maybe — just maybe — capture his tongue in between them for a light suckle.
(There is no 'maybe'. When it comes to passion, Ambrosia never does it half-baked.)
Gentle electric sparks travel down Ambrosia's spine and settle into the back of her neck, encouraging her to press herself close, arms loosely wrapped around his neck to ground herself and keep her knees from turning into jelly, at least a little bit.]