[The tension in Ross’s body shifts over his thighs, on the line of Ross' shoulders. A subtle change, and yet significant. He watches as his gaze flickers between their intertwined fingers and his face, sees the way Ross’s grip tightens to pull back and then softens just a fraction, no longer pulling away but not entirely giving in, either. It’s a tentative surrender, a hesitant step into the unknown, and Sylus can’t help but find it fascinating.
Ross’s words are hoarse, the lingering defiance in his tone mixing with something more vulnerable, more raw. Sylus feels the heat of the slap still radiating on his cheek, a dull throb that matches the gleam in his eyes. He can see Ross’s eyes tracking the mark showcasing the force of his anger.]
Whatever you want, [is his reply. A soft murmur that curls around them like smoke. His thumb continues its slow, steady rhythm against Ross’s thigh, a soothing counterpoint to the electric tension between them, and the red gaze on the flicker of pink between Ross's lips.]
no subject
Ross’s words are hoarse, the lingering defiance in his tone mixing with something more vulnerable, more raw. Sylus feels the heat of the slap still radiating on his cheek, a dull throb that matches the gleam in his eyes. He can see Ross’s eyes tracking the mark showcasing the force of his anger.]
Whatever you want, [is his reply. A soft murmur that curls around them like smoke. His thumb continues its slow, steady rhythm against Ross’s thigh, a soothing counterpoint to the electric tension between them, and the red gaze on the flicker of pink between Ross's lips.]