[ She is flushed with color, as she lays with him, flushed with life — and some distant, dimmer realm of her mind remains conscious of the fact that after this place, for her, she will have another quieter release, gently consigned to oblivion or any other place she might be meant for.
Perhaps that is why she tends to linger more often than not, savoring this sort of aftermath while possessing the knowledge that she may not get to have it eternally. And there is, of course, the fact that Ambrose's face is one of the more charming sort to look upon, even moreso when he's succumbed to a climax that leaves them both tethered to one another for a brief time.
She hasn't objected to his delay in removing himself from her; if anything, it gives her an opportunity to lift a hand, fingers slowly edging through his hair along the side of his skull with a soft, thoughtful hum. ]
I would think nothing of the sort. You've been very... demonstrative.
no subject
Perhaps that is why she tends to linger more often than not, savoring this sort of aftermath while possessing the knowledge that she may not get to have it eternally. And there is, of course, the fact that Ambrose's face is one of the more charming sort to look upon, even moreso when he's succumbed to a climax that leaves them both tethered to one another for a brief time.
She hasn't objected to his delay in removing himself from her; if anything, it gives her an opportunity to lift a hand, fingers slowly edging through his hair along the side of his skull with a soft, thoughtful hum. ]
I would think nothing of the sort. You've been very... demonstrative.