[i]What.[/i]

This. No. This isn’t right. What happened? She had you. She’s, no, she’s doing this for [i]you,[/i] you, great big. No! What? You can’t, that’s, what?! You want…her, to?

(You [i]want[/i] her?)

“Lotus!” Han shouts at a totally composed volume. “You’re! You! This! You, this???”

Her second mistake: looking at Lotus. Shining eyes. Bashful squeaks and squirms. Saying nothing, but why would she need to? If she had taken Han by the hand, kneeled before her, and begged, she could not have pleaded her case more. (And best not to think too hard about that possibility.) She turns back to Emli, from Lotus, and, and,

and for the first time, she doesn’t notice the collar.

Emli. She’s looking up at Emli. She’s lost, and, so, she looks to Emli. The girl who greeted her with the morning. The girl who hummed sweet lullabies until she fell asleep. Who knew everything she wanted before she knew it herself. Who took things off her plate before she could remember they were there. Who danced with joy with every stupid burden Han let fall on her bare shoulders. 

(She felt ashamed, pulling a double-take the first day Emli wore a uniform without sleeves. She never said a word about it, pretended like nothing happened, and applauded her own stealth when Emli didn’t seem to notice. 

The next morning, Emli bade her good morning with arms bared. She knelt, unfazed by her new loose, swishful pants. It had been an effort, throwing together a uniform in the Flower Kingdom style on such short notice. The dozy smile she won from her guest made it all worthwhile.) 

This close, her skin [i]glows.[/i] Like a full moon on a still pond. From her hands, so warm, up her arms, to her face, framed in beautiful, shining curls. Her clothes, her jewels, the shadows of her eyes, the paint on her lips, all emphasize her slender curves. Her round eyes. Her cheerful face. Her full, smiling lips. As one, they speak: [i]I am here to bless you. I am a jewel in your crown. By all that I am, by all I can do, I will make your heart glad.

Come. I do not want you. I [b]welcome[/b] you.[/i]

Emli draws her hand to her cheek, and then, slowly, down her body. Eyes never once leaving Han’s. Nodding, making little noises of encouragement. This is me. This is the curve of my side. You can touch here, Han. Anywhere. From my face all the way d-down to, my, down to, her, aaa, n-no-!

Is as far as Emli lets her fall. It's okay. It's okay to say no. Shhhhh. Shhhh, brave dragon. Strong dragon. What of her arm? The bicep? You know this well already. She’s been showing it off, just for you. Besides, you nearly napped on it in the bath, after all! Is this better? Do you like it? It's okay to say yes. Even if you don't know how, yet. She feels your fingers caress her skin, softer than the finest Dominion silk. She feels you squeeze, adoringly, and she knows. She does not frown for your refusal. She beams for your simple delight. Your other hand, in fits and starts, at last works up the courage to take her other shoulder, and she gasps for your boldness. Her rosebud lips part. Waiting. [i]Inviting.[/i] You're so close. You could just. Rise. Lean. Inches. Taste her breath. And. A-and.

"Emli." She burns. She freezes. Can't breathe. Can't think. Eyes. Mouth. Which to look. Where to go. Why. Why?! "What [i]are[/i] we?"

Your guest is drowning, dear Emli. Buried beneath the ocean of her heart, choking on all that she wants. All that she fears.

Won't you guide her, save her, one more time?