She’s so [i]soft.[/i]

Soft are the fingers playing in her hair. Her ponytail’s been undone, at some point, because she’s brushing her unruly tangle of hair, and doesn’t stop until she can’t reach any farther, and her fingertips tickle her back as she goes for another brush. Or she’s found a patch to play in, to rub between her fingers, careful and sweet. 

Soft is the fabric beneath her face. Softer is the body beneath it. On cheeks, on nose, on lips. Rubbing against her as she plays at her hair and presses her head close. Like the finest pillow in the finest cover, and on the edge of her hearing there’s the fluttering thump-thump of her precious heart. All her aching muscles drag her in deeper, deeper, deeper, until moving is impossible.

Soft is the voice that drowns her. It fills her ears, and it fills her thoughts, and all she has to do is give a low, rumbling, draconic growl of approval ([i]not[/i] a purr shut [b][i]up[/i][/b]) and she gets to hear more of it. And doesn’t have to work out how to reply when it’s already effort enough to sneak breaths (sweet, heady, blooming flowers after rain) against her.

So it is a long, rumbling, thoughtful silence, before she tilts her head, freeing her mouth enough to share her ancient dragon wisdom. “Hell yeah, we’re gonna escape.” She nods, or maybe nuzzles against her. Difficult to tell. Not important. Shut up. “She said she was gonna train me, right? So…so I’ll just get so strong she can’t ever beat me, and then we walk out. Maybe take her with us? [i]Get[/i] her?” Yeah, yeah, that sounds good. Show everybody what happens when they mess with Han of the Highlands, and [i]especially[/i] when you mess with Lotus of Tranquil Waters, daughter of

of

o f

“Han?” Lotus asks, her voice ringing with faint worry. “Is something wrong?”

Oh gods she noticed. How did she notice? How did she do that?! (She has stopped nuzzling into her body. She has stopped looking anywhere but straight ahead, at whose body she was getting so, so comfortable with, at the chest that is so, so close to her face. She hasn’t stopped breathing, but is giving it her best attempt.) Her heart is racing, does she notice that too?! “It’s…no, it’s stupid.” Very stupid. Ruin-the-whole-moment stupid. The sort of thing you’d have to be a real dumb idiot to even think about asking after they [i]just[/i] got done kissing, and now they’re all cozy together, and it’s too early! This started just a few minutes ago! What kind of big dumb idiot moron would ruin the rhythm at a time like this?!

There’s those soft fingers, teasing her hair. There’s that soft face, biting her lip with worry. There’s that soft voice, holding her gently. “...could I hear it anyway?”

……………………dammit.

An anxious growl rattles in her throat. “Okay. Okay. So.” Her eyes search for words. They search along her collarbone. They search on the curves of her chest. Briefly. They dart away to search someplace safer. “What…is this? What does this mean? Me being,” she nods her head to, to, well, where she lays. Where she is being held. “Being here?”

What does it mean to be held like this, by a demigod? What, exactly, is she doing with the daughter of the Sapphire Mother?

[Spending a string on Lotus, asking her to teach Han about intimate demigod cuddling.]