Send her to fight all the N’yari in a night, bare-handed. Put the flood-waters before her and ask her to hold them back. Bind her in dresses of delicate flowerpetals and play a reel for her to dance. But do not ask her to hold herself up any longer. She isn’t strong enough. The reed-thin demigod bears a dragon to the ground, presses her back against the silken sheets. Now, there can be no running. Not until the miracle is complete.

She burns. She shivers. Her roaring heart fills her ears. Lotus hums softly at each kiss. She is crushed beneath the curves of her body. She grips her hand like it is made of glass. Her shoulder ices over into blessed numbness. Wet, warm, tender brushes at her skin. Beg this could last forever. Touch her neck again and she will burst. She cannot breath. She pants for air.

Done. Undone. 

For the price of surrender, a broken tool transforms into something lovely. Something…someone a goddess (demigod, whatever!!!) would look at and smile. Someone she [i]loves[/i] to be here with. Whose arms she nestles into like a bed no matter how gross, how muddied, how rough they are. This is the place divine wishes to rest, peaceful and pretty, in her dress so beautiful and her cheeks so red and her lips pressed snug against her palm…

Her breath catches. Fire erupts.

This is it. She has to say it. She has to say it. Right. Now. No waiting. She promised her, and now she has to say it. Just like this: Bud, she promised she’d see you safe, and she’d take you to every place on your list, and anywhere else you forgot to put on your list because you’re too silly to have remembered it all. She promised, and that promise still stands, got it? She’s gave you her word, and she’s damn well gonna keep it, do you hear her?! That’s a fact, it’ll always be a fact, so she should just say so already! Say it! Right now! No more stalling! She’s Han of the Highlands, she promised you the world, little bud, and nothing you say or do is ever gonna change that!

“L-Lotus…”

Han pulls her up to sit comfortably on her lap. Listen up. This is important. Look at her. Don’t flinch away, even when she cups your cheeks in her hands. Don’t listen to the furnace-blast of her breath, hoarse and hungry. You have to hear this next part. You have to know you can refuse her. Whatever else happens, you have to know that. No fear, only honesty. She can’t bear an answer that’s not from your heart. Not when your bodyguard (your knight, your dragon, whatever the hells she is!!) holds so much power over you. 

“..................................can I kiss you?”

You’re free to break her heart. It’s okay.

Lotus’ cheeks blossom in red and pink. Her lips part. She prays in a breathy whisper. [i]”Please!”[/i]

And there is no time left for words.

Han pulls Lotus of Tranquil Waters atop her. And slows. The instant. Before. They touch. And she smothers. Her lips. With hers. She holds. Her face. Still. Steady. Inescapable. She is. Not done. Not done with one. She kisses her mouth. Again. And again. Bit. By. Bit. Carefully, carefully. She must. Taste. Every bit of them. She. Must. Know. If they are all. Soft. The same way. Or. Sweeter. Here, or there. Will she. Make that noise. Every time her tongue. Finds her skin? She must. Know. Fire grows. When it is. Fed.

Gently as butterfly breezes, Han [i]devours[/i] her.

And when at last they part, it is only to lean her weary head against hers, forehead to forehead, and all the air tastes of flowers. And all her thoughts are music. And song tumbles whisper-soft from her lips, so quiet that Lotus will hear it long before she herself does.

[i]"What life of striving would I endure
For the blessing of beholding you
What suffering more would I gladly bear
For the promise of your touch…"[/i]