[ the knot loosens and the fabric sags down over her shoulders without anything holding it in place. her breath stutters on the exhale, just managing to push down the instinct to cover herself up again as his hand slips beneath. it's a gentle touch but she finds herself unprepared for it—the heat of his hand smoothing against her cooler, paler skin. should his hand wander further, he'll find her own collection of scars from both magic and weaponry: a large burn stretching diagonally across her back beginning from her right shoulder; a gash along her left bicep from a sword; smaller wounds littered here and there from arrows and lances. war is not kind to anyone, even to one who chooses tenderness in the face of destruction.
with his head against her shoulder, he misses the way her expression softens as she trails her palm along the nearest scar she can reach, the raised skin dragging along her fingertips. ]
Don't apologize. I understand.
[ he's been through so much, she thinks. each battle won, but hard-fought; a piece of himself given away that he can't get back. she presses her nose to his crown, pressing a soft kiss there as she lets the robe fall away entirely. ]
no subject
with his head against her shoulder, he misses the way her expression softens as she trails her palm along the nearest scar she can reach, the raised skin dragging along her fingertips. ]
Don't apologize. I understand.
[ he's been through so much, she thinks. each battle won, but hard-fought; a piece of himself given away that he can't get back. she presses her nose to his crown, pressing a soft kiss there as she lets the robe fall away entirely. ]
I don't mind.