#llosgcariad (a. rexon/k. maponus)

[godsabitofabastard]

@llosgcariad , from here.

If it's color he wants, he's got it in spades, blossoming across her cheeks and under his lips. Kiran gives her that little smirk of his, and it's all she can do to remain present, especially after receiving such physical affection. Reaching up, she focuses on smoothing some of his wild hair, giving her heart and breathing a moment to attempt normalcy before she speaks.

"I will admit, the ease with which you make me blush," she gives him a wolfish grin in return, refusing to find any shame in the rosy tint of her face, which is upturned toward him as she continues, "is equally - if not moreso - unfair." With that, she allows herself a brief, childish scrunch of her features, and a lightning quick sticking out of her tongue at the man she's fallen so hard for. He brings out the best in her, and makes her happier than she can ever convey.

[godsabitofabastard]

∗ o5﹕ sender  comforts  receiver  in  the  aftermath  of  a  nightmare . from kiran

100 Nonverbal Prompts From - @llosgcariad Status - Accepting

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She didn't realize her hands were shaking until she tried to raise them to her face, fumbling for a moment before touching her cheeks, dampness meeting her fingertips. Tears are caught in her lashes, and she scrubs gently at her face before lightly holding the pads of her fingers to her eyes. A sigh escapes with a groan, and she shakes her head minutely side to side before making herself look around.

Judging from the state of things, the nightmare was a bad one; a flashback to some of the countless things she would like to forget. The sheets are tangled about her legs, her shorts twisted, her shirt a wrinkled mess. Wayward strands frame her face, and only then does it dawn on her that she fell asleep with a bun in. Reaching up to undo it, she shakes her hair free and rakes her shaking fingers through it. She can't bring herself to speak for a moment or two longer, but she leans some of her weight against Kiran, craving the closeness, and comfort it brings.

"I'm sorry," she exhales, forcing herself to look at him. The fact that she feels like an ass is written all over her face, and she picks nervously at her nails, glancing down briefly. "Are you ok?" Alexaria's voice is more steady when she asks that, and she's able to focus on him for longer now. "I didn't like.. hurt, or try to attack you, or anything awkward of awful like that, did I?" She's clearly embarrassed and ashamed to have to ask such a thing; but also trying to keep her voice and expression light, now that the worst has passed. They don't have to address any heavy topics if they don't want to: They both know enough of each other's past to understand why things from days gone by can keep (or wake) them up at night.