Completed Training the Squire for war [Fallon]

[Markus Andres]

Markus was impressed with Fallon's performance, she first correctly read the distance of the first strike and even increased the distance to be on the safe side. Blocking the next strike and that was about when Markus got too engaged in the battle. Sword swinging faster and harder. He could see Fallon struggle, yet a part of him didn't care. A part of him wanted more excitement out of this battle. The intensity of his eyes grew as he looked for strengths. Weaknesses. Not for correction, but for exploitation. She furiously fought back against his onslaught. Struggling in her defence. Markus' right hand thrust forward at centre mass. There was resistance. There was metal against the stone floor. There was the sharp exhale of air from Fallon. The soft gasp from Markus. Markus pulled the blade back and as he saw the bloodied blade, he dropped the Bastard to the ground. Once again the blade lived up to its name. The second blade clattered against the ground as Markus saw Fallon slump forward. "NO! FALLON! No no no no no no no no no!" Markus continued, mouth moving rapidly to produce the sounds of denial as he rid himself of the shield and it went flying across the floor like a stone skipping across a pond. His right arm went under hers. Stopping her small form from crumpling entirely on the floor. Keeping her upper body upright, her legs, he had no idea about. A hand brushed hair away from her face. Looking at her worried. Eyes flickering around her face. Trying desperately to get his brain to work. Find a solution. Not again. Markus looked to the door. Help? Yes. Help! "Fallon. Will be okay... Everything will be okay..." Markus' left arm went under her legs around the knees and Markus, with surprising ease, lifted Fallon from the ground. There was some resistance from the lithe woman in his arms. It was moving and shifting as he carried her. Feet moving quick over the stone floor. "Will be just okay. Gonna be fine" His words sounded reassuring, but he was mainly talking to himself. Trying to convince himself that everything would be great. Would be a-okay. A pair of squires got a mouthful of swears and orders to get the petch out of his way when the unranked knight made it to the exit. Armour clanking, legs pumping steadily under him. Woman in his arms, squirming and generally being hard to carry. His mouth, still moving, still trying to convince himself. The knight was moving so fast and so worried that he almost ran right by the entrance to the soothing waters. His right shoulder pushed him through the double doors the stairs were crossed quickly with little to no regard for his own personal safety. 'Hi, how may I h-' "Acc... Accident... Training, wound. Chest. Healer. Heal HER!" Markus would carry Fallon wherever they would direct him. Put her down gently wherever they told him to put her down. Follow the orders of the doctors. No matter what. Leave if they wanted him to. Stay by the wall, out of the way, if they didn't tell him to leave. He couldn't lose her. Not now. Not ever. Pair of dark green eyes staring at her. He had petching stabbed his own girlfriend... Both hands clenched tightly as he bit his teeth together harder. Body shaking under all that armour. Such a moron. Such an idiot. He was almost seething with rage at himself. Guilt at his foul action. Just like in the summer. That poor little girl. A victim to his blade.

[Fallon]

There was a shout, a cry in the air as she was caught. The world gave a turn, a flurry of blinks as it swung to and fro. Her entire form gave in, crumpling and collapsing beneath her. It was more out of shock that caused her to crumple in such a fashion, the obvious tell tale signs that she was nowhere near as experienced as he in combat. But still he pushed, fuelled by his own greed of pleasure and combat lust. His voice was an echo, her hearing submerged beneath the waters of panic and confusion. Arms gave a fumble, hands reaching and grasping. Thoughts repeated themselves, a searing sensation clawing its way up and through. She did not need to look to know what was going on, or to know that her life blood was blooming.

He stabbed her, the petcher!

She heard the mumble of his voice, followed by weightlessness. An angry shout, the feel of cold metal against her cheek as she was carried. The urge to struggle and wriggle was there, weak hands fumbling and grasping. There was a second gasp, drawing sharply down into a hiss as she was taken on. Her brow creased the grip upon him loosening. Everything was wrong, very wrong. She did not register where she was being taken, the scents and sounds beyond her comprehension. It was cool hands that touched her face, the bright searing light hovering above. Her back was placed upon a hard surface, the words of others ringing out. There was the sound of voices, of others trying to shepherd another out.

Was their danger? What was going? Where was Markus?

”Hello? Hello can you hear me?” she felt a tap against her face, her mind spinning for a moment as consciousness was pulled at. A set of hands were fumbling at the buckles of her padded armour. The pressure was released over the wound, and it became instinctual to try and rise. She tried to push herself up, urgency hovering in the back of her mind. Her jaw tightened, hand rising as she tried to pry off whoever was there.
”Ser! Ser! Can you leave please? Are you her patron?” came another voice. A set of hands pushed he shoulders down as she begun to writhe, ”Help me hold her down! I need to get a look at the wound!” Fallon struggled, muscles contracting as panic consumed. Something slipped underneath and peeled away the armour, and then begun to make quick work on the shirt, ”Okay, you need to calm down! We’re trying to help you!”

The world burned, flickering beyond her consciousness once more. Breathing laboured, the distinct feeling of heat escaping her. Her head hit the back of the surface, the hand that was trying to grip something trembling. Bare arms rested on the cool. She gave a slow blink, her head swimming as she tried to take the room in.
”Okay, good… good…” a hand smooth down her hair, ”Just relax now. Relax…” A hand hovered over the wound, a heat throbbing from it. Her back arched slightly as the healer did her work. Her brow creasing, her lips parted gasping almost for air whilst the flesh knitted itself together. But no sooner did the sensation reach her was it once more ripped away.

She felt the table once more, breath labouring, skin pale and marred with blood. The world hovered there just in reach of consciousness, but for the moment she was fine with just hovering there in such a state. The hands on her shoulders released, ”Okay… you’re okay now. Don’t try and get up too fast. Take it slow and easy. Slow…”
Her shirt had been peeled away from her in the struggle, leaving her in little more than in her vest and trousers. A shaky hand grasped onto the edge. She was disorientated, her mind tired and strained by the ordeal.

[Markus Andres]

"I am not." Was Markus' gut response. His master had once told him that healers and doctors outranked everyone in the operating room. A piece of information that stuck to him. He wanted to stay and wait for Fallon to get better. But orders were orders. Markus gave a last fleeting look to Fallon lying there on the table. Watching the woman struggle from injuries he had given her. Markus turned his head away and with heavy heart and steps he left the room for a calmer place. His heavy form felt weak as he stumbled a couple of steps and both his knees fell to the ground as a fist slammed against the floor. Mind racked with guilt and worry. Forehead pressing against the ground as he let out a silent scream of denial. This could not be happening. His fist hammering the ground in hatred of himself. Mind constantly returning to that image of Fallon. That moment of simple surprise on her face. How she had slumped together after that... how weak she had become. Markus' teeth grit together as the heavy hand pounded the ground again. That mild surprise. The same look the first man Markus' had ever killed had looked at him with. That mild surprise before his eyes were burned into Markus' memory forever. That had been years ago. Still haunted him sometimes. He could not bear it if Fallon died in there. Become another haunted memory to keep him awake in the darkness of the night. That tear him from the peaceful slumber with a sudden jerk when the nightmares came. Weakly the knight crawled to a nearby bench and pulled himself to sit. Never mind whoever were watching. Didn't matter much to him. Elbows resting against his thighs and his face buried in his hands. He could not remain seated. He pushed away from the bench and started pacing back and forth. Someone came out from a door and Markus spun about only to realize it was the wrong place and the wrong person. He soon tired of the pacing and sat down again. Silently murmuring a prayer to Rak'keli for her healing touch upon Fallon. Markus knew not how deep the wound was, but nothing was outside the realm of Rak'keli to restore. He had faith in her, she were a goodly goddess. Finally someone emerged from the correct place and Markus was on his feet instantly. He anxiously looked at the healer who was brief with him and soon the unranked knight was through the entrance. She was okay! Or recovered. Whatever. Seeing her there on the table. Markus felt an immense relief wash away his worry and he moved quickly to her side. "Fallon! Thank the gods you're okay. Thank you, thank you all for saving her. Thank you! " Markus wrapped his left arm around Fallon's back to support her and his right hand grabbed her right hand. Eyes locked upon hers. Relief might have washed away the worry, but the painstaking guilt was still painted all over his face and eyes. "I am so sorry, Fallon. I don't... I... Please forgive me, Fallon. I should not have... Sorry." His eyes desperately sought a hint of forgiveness in her eyes. Some sort of atonement for his horrible deed. He had no excuses. No explanations. It was a foolish act of an over eager knight.

[Fallon]

Fallon gave a blink, a distinct dizziness taking hold. Arms gave a shiver, her body having dipped into a state of chill. Arms gave a tremble, weakness controlling her very limbs. There was no real control as the healer stood back, allowing her to take her time in rising. Her features pinched, a moment of confusion upon as to what was going on. Or at least until the distinct sound of clunking managed to get past the thick fog of her hearing. Eyes narrowed upon Markus, lips parting in an almost gormless fashion. She heard his words, a definite frown forming on her face as she was guided up.

She looked almost insulted as he tried to get her up to her feet. She felt her legs swing over the table side, the world pivoting around her for a tick before settling. Her head gave a blink, the colour draining out of her face with that same distinct look of discomfort hanging there. No doubt he would notice the cool touch of her skin, the distinct cold sweat that consumed. Her hairs raised, goose pimples racing along the extremities. She gave a shudder, nostrils flaring almost in agitation. And then she began.

”You… are a petching arsehole. Stabbing me with your… petching… sword. Making me petching bleed everywhere. You unfair petching bastard,” she gave a slur, attempting an obvious serious tone with him but drastically failing. A limp hand trying to slap him across the face. The fingers instead simply pressed against his cheek, and then promptly slid down them firmly, [b]”You should be… ashash… Ashamed! Of yourself… You bad knight!” There was a firm point for only a tick before the hand jellified once more. There were a few sharp intakes of breath from the healers, another trying to almost desperately keep a straight face.

The palm gave a slap against his chest, the skin striking the metal with a definite thud. And then she paused, lost almost in surprise at the stinging sensation that rose up. She gave a glare at the surface, face pulled into what could only be described as a grimace. Her toes finally tapped the ground, a nervous slide before she stood up on her own two feet. She gave a wobble, the supporting hand holding her in place for a tick. But still she shook, cold and unable to find a sense of warmth. Watched the healer carefully fold up the training jacket and the shirt, the blood having most definitely stained the fabric, before finally giving a sheepish glance to the pale squire and the knight.

”You’re cold aren’t you?” Fallon shot an unruly look to the healer, brow lowering and her lips just about pursing, ”A dip in the baths will help with that. Help you relax too. If you wish to Ser Knight, we can look after the squire if you have… other duties to attend to?” There was a gentle hand upon her shoulder, a faint smile upon her face, ”I’m sure one of the attendants will keep an eye on her.” She gave a glance up to Markus, her head spinning around as she blinked at him. In honesty she felt there was no real choice in the matter, she was going to be shepherd one way or another whether she liked it or not.

[Markus Andres]

Markus looked decidedly unpleasant in the weakened Fallon's company. He was responsible for this. He was to blame. Every weak shudder. Every disoriented look. The anger in those eyes as well. He wished she wouldn't view him with such anger. But he would have to endure. He was to blame. He had to take it like a true knight and let her anger wear itself out. Seek atonement for his mistake. When her mouth opened and the first words that left those were an accusation. One that rang too true for his comfort, but he did not protest. Did not silence her, for she were correct to chew him out. He deserved it. His eyes fell down in a moment of weakness, looking away from those green-blue eyes of hers. It was easier to take the anger without seeing those eyes. Without them boring into his skull. But that would be a cowardly way to avoid the shame, he bit his teeth together and looked back up into her eyes. That hand of hers pushing against his cheek. Was she trying to stroke him or was she too weak to slap him? Either case, he was glad that he had not been slapped in front of the healers. Huge shoulders sunk lower as she finished by calling him a bad knight. That agitated him, but he took it with silence. Accepted it as his just reward for getting lost into his own eagerness for battle. But ever since Razkar, Markus had lusted for a battle that drove him to those limits that Razkar had made apparent. Limits that he had exceeded on that day and for the first time since the Sahovan campaign he had enjoyed a fight. Even if his body had been a mess of bruises and blood. Someone else spoke as Markus looked sheepishly at Fallon and he regained some of his knightly composure hearing a different voice. Especially when he referred to him as ser knight. His shoulders straightened back to their impossible huge form. The armour had done well in hiding his hunched over shoulders. But then he rose to his full height and easily towered over most people in the fortress city. He considered the words of the healer for a brief moment before answering. "That will not be necessary. This is my mess and I will take care of her as well as cover the costs for her private bath." His voice gained in strength as he spoke. He looked to Fallon and another stab of guilt hit him hard. By his reasoning it was better he be the one taking care of her, partly because it was the least he could do and partly because he was certain Fallon would prefer her boyfriend seeing her naked over some stranger... Then again, he had been wrong before. "But once again, thank you for saving her." His hand behind Fallon's shoulders gave her a squeeze trying to comfort her. "Let us go, dear. Get you warm and well." He asked her quietly. Trying his best to not evoke her anger again and trying to soothe the temper with the strategical use of dear. There was an eagerness to get Fallon to the bath. She looked terrible, cold and very weak. If he could do anything to ease any of these things, he would do so. "Well just take the first private room we stumble across." Markus told the healers as he found a gold rimmed miza in his pockets and started for the exit with one arm supporting Fallon. "Ah, I'll take that as well." Markus said to the healer with the bloodied clothes. In return for the clothes he respectfully gave the man a bow of his head and continued with Fallon. Going at the pace she went at, helping her only when she stumbled. When they were away from the others. A bit at least. He leaned in closer and gave her a small kiss on the cheek. Trying his best to seek forgiveness. "I'm sorry, Fall."

[Fallon]

Fallon gave a single firm shake, air roughly exhaling whilst a chill shot up her spine. She already felt the hand of the knight pushing her out the door, the occasional look down of to see if she was still standing. In honesty she was far from a state of falling over, but even then her sight continued to blur at the edges. There was a blink, the gentle and quiet words of Markus falling upon her ears. The murmurs of apology, the sense of defeat within his very form. But this was no time to continue scowling him. It was done and dealt with, and that was all that mattered at present.

Besides, he at least had the decency to take care of her after running her through. Even if he was for the most part dragging her to the first private room they came across. It was only the gentle whisper and peck on the cheek however that made her glance up to him. For a while she held his stare, before eventually turning away. Her eyes laid upon the opening of a private bath. She gave only a tap and pulled away from him towards it, a low mutter, ”I’ve had worse.” She gave a fumble for it, shoulder pressing against the surface as she entered. It was indeed empty, the warmer water of the private pool greeting them. Slipping in she gave a glassy eyed look back at her partner before simply shrugging and sliding in. There was only a quick glance back to Markus, ”You coming or not?” she gave him a quick look up and down, ”Tin soldier.”

In the space within there was there was fresh towels ready to be used, the distinct feeling of warmth holding onto her limbs. Her head gave a turn, feet shuffling before her shoulder met the wall. It had hit her hard, almost choking as she trembled. Eyes blinking she pressed a weak hand against her forehead, pale form shivering as she tried to hold onto her bearings. Nostrils flared, a moment of the world tilting onto its axis. She needed to sit down, she needed to calm down and get warm. Eyes clenched shut, an exhale escaped her lips.

Let’s get this over with.

With her fingers lacing around she paused at the edge of the vest, the inkling in her mind drawing her to something important. She remembered the patterns that danced across her skin, the reminders of the past and its existence. There was a pause, eyes darting back to the knight and then away again. She had to be quick and fast, for there were some things that should stay hidden, things that should be kept out of sight and silent. Scars were no different, for they would only create questions. Fumbling for one of the towels she gave only a glance to him followed by a mumble, ”Look the petch away.”

She did not wait to see if he did or not. Hands were already upon ripping off the clothes and wrapping the towel tightly around her – or at least the best she could in her sluggish state. Eyes gave a blink, bare feet padding away to the warm water of the bath below and a mumble of curses beneath. Once certain she was safely submerged she would simply stare at his back, her own pressed against the side and her arms wrapped around almost as if shielding herself. It was not a state she was liked to be in, more so when there was another near by.

[Markus Andres]

"Uh, yea." Markus threw a casual glance around the place before following Fallon in there after closing the door behind them giving the two some privacy. He was glad she could walk on her own again, yet a bit puzzled by her tin soldier comment. Was she herself not training to become a tin soldi- knight? Markus shook his head at the inanity. But he was yet pleased that she had not dismissed his help for that of a stranger. The sounds of metal moving and scraping against each other stopped when Markus found a place to stand silently and look at Fallon as she made her way to the water. His eyes were upon her as the fingers laced around the edge of the garments. About to reveal her form to Markus. His eyes looked intrigued at her, many a time had he wondered when he would get to see her naked, but never had he imagined the circumstances to be so foul and his own desire to see her shape be so subdued by a racking anguish. Yet her words, mumbled quickly, surprised the young knight and he stood there stunned for several heartbeats. "Yes, naturally. Sorry." Markus' relationship with nudity had always been rather lax. He could appreciate and most certainly find joy from the lack of clothing on a female, but never did he understand the shyness involved or the distinct need for others not to seem them naked. He could respect their wishes. He turned away from his girlfriend and found a very intricate piece of masonry to keep his attention as Fallon disrobed behind him. He heard soft clothing fall to the ground, the light patter of feet across the stone floor and a body submerging itself into the water. Markus spent several long moments looking at the wall. Markus knew patience was a virtue and that he should be able to spend more than half a chime looking at a wall before being bored witless- still, he could not remain sane if he spent another second looking at a dull wall. A drop of sweat made its way down his forehead. Rolling down his cheek before dropping to the floor. His chest heaved in the warm air like he had not since fighting Razkar. "Fall, not because this wall isn't mighty interesting, but may I turn around now?" He would wait several seconds for a reply and no matter the reply, or lack thereof, he would turn about yet keep his eyes to himself and not divert his gaze at Fallon. Two things Markus mentally noted to himself. First, never wear armour in the soothing waters again. Two, he needed to get out of the armour before he was steam-cooked in it alive. The young knight began to work on removing the breast plate and the metal parts of the armour. The padding came off later. Slowly removing each piece of armour and placing it on the ground. Soon standing in his regular clothes as a civilian. "How is the water? You feeling better?" Eyes still averted from Fallon, but by now his curiosity was beginning to tear away at the willpower. Suggestions of a small peek perhaps, something she would not notice began appearing at the edge of his mind. Slowly tempting him further and further. Sooner or later his eyes would in a moment of weakness glance in her direction. Submerged as she probably would be, there would be little to see. But there would be much to tease his mind with. The blurred form... He could not forgive himself if he did not grab the chance. "Scoot over, I'm coming in." Markus said as he removed his shirt. Showing Fallon the huge and chiseled torso she claimed she did not care for. He found a towel and covered his lower half as he removed his pants. Mostly for Fallon's sake, she had a problem with nudity. Or appearing naked before him. He would drop the towel as he descended into the water with relative ease and the soothing waters lived up to their name. Markus let out a sigh of relief. Fallon was going to be alright. He was in his favourite, although second or third most frequented building in the fortress. He was with his girlfriend who he had fallen for and those feelings were starting to bubble inside of him. He was never good with words, especially not around Fallon. How could he convey himself to her without sounding like a bumbling fool. More importantly. When would she forgive him?

[Fallon]

It was in the waters that Fallon soaked, legs raised and pressed defensively against her. The distinct glare from beneath her brow signalled she was far from comfortable, more so when he inevitably begun his own personal stripping of layers. Even as he kept his eyes averted, with only the low glance to her on occasion did she continue her glaring. As far as she was concerned he could stay over that way. Out of reach and out of any obvious sight. Her back gave a tremble, a shiver clawing its way up as feeling returned to her. Warmth took a lot longer. There was only a firm nod to him and his question. Words were slightly difficult to form with the thick tint of red that managed to claw its way across her face. Objection however rose when he mentioned joining her.

Limbs became animated, her entire form shirking away as he undressed. Her voice rose, but little more than a squeak emerged as the giant of a knight simply carried on with his wants. Face tinted deeper, colour returning as he reclined in the water. Her eyes darted downwards to the obvious location, then away flustered on what exactly to do. What was his game? His intention? Was he trying to look after her or was there something more tempting on his mind. Her face burned, eyes turning and forcibly looking away.

Petch?

Her chin shortly followed after that, her arms rising to shield herself more from his stare whilst her shoulders hunched in defensively. It would correct to say that it was far from comfortable for her. If not because of previous occurrences where she had been close to a man in such a state, then because of her own lacking confidence in being in such a natural state. Clothes hid shapes and scars; they protected her form from the world that would judge upon her smaller stature and marks. And most importantly it stopped that bitter reminders that the past was indeed real. Trying to make as much space away as possible she watched him relax, hiding behind her little wall of arms and legs. There was a peak over, her chin lifting almost curious at him before once more she shied away.

Making herself as small as possible she focused only on compression and to try and disappear. She turned her back to him, shoulders peeking above the surface and the tell tale signs only hovering there. Least until she began her squirming once more, and forced herself to face him. Or at least as well as she could whilst keeping her face averted. He was her partner, her close friend, her – dare she say it – ‘boyfriend’. He would not judge her, would he? Well her had accepted her for who she was so far, then again he did not know everything. Her eyes raised slightly, looking out at him from beneath her brow and then pulling away again.

”I… I… well…” she gave a stumble over her words, ”I’m… okay?”

[Markus Andres]

The warm waters surrounded his limbs as they descended into the water. His hands splashed gently in the water. Trying to whip up the courage to approach Fallon. He dipped his head below the water and cleansed his body of sweat and so relaxing. But he could not relax. Tenser now than it had been before he dipped into the water. Although rash and confident when he entered, seeing her now. Reacting to him, he began to doubt himself. She seemed to shrink away in his presence. His confidence. His desire to explain himself diminished as doubt crept in. Was he a bastard for putting her in this situation. Practically forcing her to react to his nude presence like some jerk. Was he giving her horrible flashbacks? The worry for her plastered on his face and he forced himself to turn his face away and at the exit. A sigh escaped his lips as he tried to force himself to relax. Which never worked. His huge arms resting against the edge of the pool. Back pushed lightly against the warm masonry. The young knight was about to lean back and try to relax. Let Fallon get used to him in the water. However long that might take. When he saw her turned her back to him. Thinking she were about to leave he thought he had pushed her too far. But she did not make a move to climb out and Markus saw it then. Saw what she was showing him. Scaring across her back. It took several moments before he realized there was a pattern. That this was no accidental scaring nor were they scars from battle. They did not look recent either. Some looked like symbols. Letters. None that Markus could read. But the scaring was too methodical... He looked at her stunned and when she turned around again he only stared at her. Completely at a loss for words. Questions popped into his mind, but that's as far as they got. He knew she had been a traveller, that she had seen the world. But not in his wildest imaginations had he ever thought she'd been so scarred. The way she carried herself, as if embarrassed of her scars, the disfigurement. There was a fleeting moment of anger, at both the person behind it and at Fallon. Aimed at Fallon for thinking those scars would scare him away. Telling him she was okay. He just stared at her. Surprised by the intimate detail she had just revealed to him. Those scars she carried. He opened his mouth slightly as he moved closer to her. Close enough to reach out and pull her closer. "No, Fallon. You're not okay." His arms rested on her shoulders feeling the naked skin, her small frame and he looked into those wonderful eyes of hers. He had often gotten lost in those strangely attractive eyes. When thinking of it rationally, they did not compare to those of a Vantha, but when looking at them like this... Vantha eyes were overrated. But a small smile crossed his lips. "You're amazing." He would pull her close and place a single short kiss on her forehead before pulling her close in a tight hug. "And amazingly naive if you think those scars will scare me away." He would ease up the hug and his right hand rested against the back of her head. Fingers kneading the back of her head softly. "I'm sorry Fall, for adding another scar... I should have been more careful." It felt right standing there with her in his arms, even as guilt racked through him.

[Fallon]

It was warm, reassuring and although she tensed and ceased up at first, she quickly found the heat of his skin upon her cheek. Nice, no more than nice. It made her tremble, her air escaping and leaving her breathless within a moment. Even her entire face screwed in a sense of rebellion to his movement, she found it easing. Wet was against wet, the once rapid breath subsiding as simply she was held. Even her nervous hands simply reached up and tapped against his chest. There was an inhale, a gentle shiver to the touch and the recoiling flinch almost out of her own deep fears.

She wanted to forget. She wanted to push it away. She wanted to bury it deep. But it was real, all of it was, she knew that. And it was that same sense of realness that defined her into whom she was today and who she was in the future. Nostrils flared, her breast pressed against him with the rest of her form. There was nothing between them right now, least not physically. Emotionally it was still tense, a crashing tide that roared in their minds. She relaxed, lids resting for as he eased off his hold. It was just her and Markus here, nothing more or less.

It was gently that her fingers snaked up to his face, tracing over his features an inquisitive yet distant look forming on her face. It drew sharper of course, focusing upon him gradually with the dulled beat quickly rising up into a race. Lips parted and trembled, a gentle push in gesture he returned to leaning back and relaxing. She herself would at least attempt to follow suit, to halt the hesitation that stopped her from growing. The world would not wait for her after all. She pulled back slightly a moment of recoil as the pink tint grew, her hand splayed out across his chest, eyes meeting him.

Was too close or too far? Did she need to embrace him or simply stare at him with large nervous eyes that swum with her own fears and hesitations. She could still feel the gentle press of his lips, the warm fingers that knotted in her hair. And here she was before him, stripped of her traditional paragon ways of maintaining modesty. Yet other thoughts begun their lingering; curiosity, understanding, exploration of the pair of them. It was something she was not exactly able to actively practice with ease during her time – not that she was exactly naïve to them either. It was just a state she often found left her vulnerable.

”As… As I said,” her head turned away, eyes averting down, ”I’ve had worse. So… it’s okay?” She gave a shrug, a feeble attempt at trying to convey what she was saying. Hands reeling her in she allowed her body to slide in next to him, muscles tensing briefly as she contemplated getting closer and then gingerly kissed him on the cheek. Her face grew red, digits curling in and clenching lightly. She was far from good at this, and then there was Markus who seemed incredibly comfortable with whom he was.

”I guess you’ve done this before?” she mumbled, ”I-I-I mean you seem to know what you’re doing… not like that. Sorry.” She snatched her hands away and clapped them over her face. What was wrong with her? Even she did not know. It was too new to her, too sudden and sharp, too many things thrown into the scene at once. There was only the shake of the head now, the insecurities spilling forth, ”Sorry, I’m not good at this. Not good at all.”