[ Tharja had been fooling around, obviously not taking this very seriously, but the deep roll of Arlecchino finally speaking stops her in her tracks. Her hand freezes midway, which is an ironic way to phrase it because Tharja can absolutely feel the heat emanating off the other woman from that distance.
She's not frightened, no, but everything about Arlecchino sends a tickle up Tharja's spine. It's a feeling vaguely reminiscent to how she felt upon meeting Robin: the darkness of Grima's influence in the tactician calling out to her. It's not a darkness she can sense in this woman, but it's something. Foreign. Powerful.
Whatever it is, she wants to know more. Even if that means continuing this absurd game.
The corner of her lips quirk into a lopsided smile, and Tharja resumes her twiddling. ]
I imagine it's much like fondling anything else. Some heavy petting but on a smaller scale. A much smaller scale.
[ It's now or never. Tharja crosses the last infinitesimal space between them and draws a line down the bridge of the other woman's nose with two fingers.
The tremble in her touch is definitely another trick of the mind. Definitely. ]
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She's not frightened, no, but everything about Arlecchino sends a tickle up Tharja's spine. It's a feeling vaguely reminiscent to how she felt upon meeting Robin: the darkness of Grima's influence in the tactician calling out to her. It's not a darkness she can sense in this woman, but it's something. Foreign. Powerful.
Whatever it is, she wants to know more. Even if that means continuing this absurd game.
The corner of her lips quirk into a lopsided smile, and Tharja resumes her twiddling. ]
I imagine it's much like fondling anything else. Some heavy petting but on a smaller scale. A much smaller scale.
[ It's now or never. Tharja crosses the last infinitesimal space between them and draws a line down the bridge of the other woman's nose with two fingers.
The tremble in her touch is definitely another trick of the mind. Definitely. ]