Sophia's pulse radiated throughout her body which still twitched with aftershocks. She gave herself just another minute of repose this way, willing her breath to slow while her blue eyes lingered curiously over his wet lips or deft fingers. A sight that was sure to build back up her appetite. Though certain her skin felt feverish to touch, Ozymandias lingered over it, his voice coating her like the sweetest honey. Soph knew she probably looked little better than a kitten now, lapping it up completely. Already her hands found their way around his shoulders to bring them close.
The last time she felt this way was one year, seven months, and six days ago. She'd be damned if she didn't think she deserved every minute of it now, for the hell she's been through.
"Flatterer," she scoffed, but a flutter of eyelashes and her grin gave it away. Though positive she looked a mess, he may have a point on lethality. Soph felt ready to sink her teeth into him. Rising to a seat to meet him halfway, she met his lips eagerly. They were caught in the undercurrent moving to their next horizon now, and she took a deep, readying breath for her next plunge. Then a wave crashed into her.
The cedar trees in Khimki forest, an early morning just after first snow. Split wood and campfires. Tea over fire, in the world's oldest copper tin. Fresh leather.
When Sophia came to, her body was tense and shaking. She had shoved Ozymandias away with shocking force, and did not remember crying out, or darting as far back as the distance of the enlarged chaise would allow. What had just transpired, she could not possibly fathom. But the memory was fierce, as knowable and profound as it was still happening to her right now, and it made the woman as pale as a ghost. She had not thought about it in years. And it was intimate, more than anything this man in front of her could ever know or be privy to. Whatever this meant he could have possibly done only made her stomach churn with anguish. She shakily lowered the hands that had gone to cover her mouth and leveled him a harrowing look.
"What is the meaning of this!?"
The last time she felt this way was one year, seven months, and six days ago. She'd be damned if she didn't think she deserved every minute of it now, for the hell she's been through.
"Flatterer," she scoffed, but a flutter of eyelashes and her grin gave it away. Though positive she looked a mess, he may have a point on lethality. Soph felt ready to sink her teeth into him. Rising to a seat to meet him halfway, she met his lips eagerly. They were caught in the undercurrent moving to their next horizon now, and she took a deep, readying breath for her next plunge. Then a wave crashed into her.
The cedar trees in Khimki forest, an early morning just after first snow. Split wood and campfires. Tea over fire, in the world's oldest copper tin. Fresh leather.
When Sophia came to, her body was tense and shaking. She had shoved Ozymandias away with shocking force, and did not remember crying out, or darting as far back as the distance of the enlarged chaise would allow. What had just transpired, she could not possibly fathom. But the memory was fierce, as knowable and profound as it was still happening to her right now, and it made the woman as pale as a ghost. She had not thought about it in years. And it was intimate, more than anything this man in front of her could ever know or be privy to. Whatever this meant he could have possibly done only made her stomach churn with anguish. She shakily lowered the hands that had gone to cover her mouth and leveled him a harrowing look.
"What is the meaning of this!?"
![[Image: bwQbAnd.png]](https://i.imgur.com/bwQbAnd.png)
thank you gin for the set<3
![[Image: event.png]](https://www.tickerfactory.com/ezt/d/4;10402;442/st/20240612/e/scandal+is+due/dt/0/k/92a8/event.png)