[ There is yet another reason why he thinks all of this is some elaborate dream, and that is because he misses her a great deal. The hand on her back moves to her hair, no longer caring about whatever elaborate hairstyle she's got it in, wanting to feel the tresses in his hands.
It's strange that she should manifest this way in his mind, but he'll take what he can get of her: in the corners of his mind, a fantasy of something that never was built entirely out of grief, wanting to capture her in graphic detail. It made sense, surely, that in wanting her closer, in knowing she won't be there come morning, that he looks up at her, locking in every freckle and eyelash into memory through the haze. ]
I think right here is fine.
[ He drops his kiss-reddened lips to focus a few on her neck, hand rising to her bosom, but finding mostly corset, he tries to undo it in the back; though he is deft of many skills, this is not one of them. ]
Unless you want to be somewhere else? Somewhere soft?
[ He inhales her deeply as he crushes her hips against hers, body molded around her, also recalling their last kiss, but for a different reason: Is this what she'd smelled like? Is this what her lips had felt like? It's a fleeting moment he tries to capture, as he sides a hand further up her skirts. He doesn't have a memory of this, he thinks, so he can't scrutinize if he's right or wrong and can just lose himself in the sensation instead, breathless against her neck as he touches her between the legs, tentative as if it might shatter the illusion. And when he finds her solid, he draws his fingerpads in slow, long circles. ]
no subject
It's strange that she should manifest this way in his mind, but he'll take what he can get of her: in the corners of his mind, a fantasy of something that never was built entirely out of grief, wanting to capture her in graphic detail. It made sense, surely, that in wanting her closer, in knowing she won't be there come morning, that he looks up at her, locking in every freckle and eyelash into memory through the haze. ]
I think right here is fine.
[ He drops his kiss-reddened lips to focus a few on her neck, hand rising to her bosom, but finding mostly corset, he tries to undo it in the back; though he is deft of many skills, this is not one of them. ]
Unless you want to be somewhere else? Somewhere soft?
[ He inhales her deeply as he crushes her hips against hers, body molded around her, also recalling their last kiss, but for a different reason: Is this what she'd smelled like? Is this what her lips had felt like? It's a fleeting moment he tries to capture, as he sides a hand further up her skirts. He doesn't have a memory of this, he thinks, so he can't scrutinize if he's right or wrong and can just lose himself in the sensation instead, breathless against her neck as he touches her between the legs, tentative as if it might shatter the illusion. And when he finds her solid, he draws his fingerpads in slow, long circles. ]