[As always, his lips work their magic over her skin, eliciting a small, inescapable shiver that courses through her, and she turns in response, facing him until their lips are no further than a hair's breadth apart, their eyes connecting for the first time in what feels like forever with enough intensity to make her heart nearly stop.]
Even if you are in the middle of something?
[That is the thing.
Benedikta is impulsive, unpredictable. A little bit chaotic. If the wind were to draw all of itself into a single person it would be her. There is no telling when she might feel like it, when she might want to fly to him or need to fly to him, but that is something that still needs to remain on her terms. Her feelings are still this tangled, ugly mess within her, but she is trying to work through it, one knot at a time. For him. For them.
And until then, that same patience that he has shown her is what she will continue to ask of him.]
no subject
Even if you are in the middle of something?
[That is the thing.
Benedikta is impulsive, unpredictable. A little bit chaotic. If the wind were to draw all of itself into a single person it would be her. There is no telling when she might feel like it, when she might want to fly to him or need to fly to him, but that is something that still needs to remain on her terms. Her feelings are still this tangled, ugly mess within her, but she is trying to work through it, one knot at a time. For him. For them.
And until then, that same patience that he has shown her is what she will continue to ask of him.]