Post by Her Royal Highness on Mar 17, 2008 5:08:25 GMT -8
ooc: ok so you tell me how I did with Andrew. Your little random piece got me thinking so i decided to write one me self. Only thing is i think i ended up writing more Andrew than Sera... oops. Sorry lol. So yeah. whatever. Let me know if i totally butchered him. I was kind of going off of his personality in your latest posts. oh. and forgive the unoriginal title.
bic:
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
It was definitely not a question.
She hadn’t been aware of his approach but she managed to keep herself from jumping at the sound of his voice addressing her from the door behind her.
Of course she’d been expecting this. It had been three nights since their first time together. That night she had stayed awake long afterward, waiting until she was certain he slept before gently untangling her arms from his and making her way up to her chamber, leaving the godlike creature to sleep alone with the fire. (The other’s, unaware of what had happened, had given him hell early the next evening at discovering him sprawled on the couch, hair and clothing all disheveled.) After that evening however, she had kept her distance. Why, she wasn’t quite sure.
He had crossed the room by now, stopping a few short feet behind her, close enough for her to hear his breathing. It was low and uneven.
“You won’t even look at me in front of the others anymore. You won’t even now,” his voice was rising in mounting frustration.
She still made no movement.
“Sera!”
Before he could stop himself he had taken hold of one of her shoulders and spun her around to face him. The ease with which he did so along with the look he then saw on her face made him drop his hand instantly and take a step back. The body was submissive, the expression blank. He could take her then and there and she could and would do nothing to stop him. And yet he knew that unless she wanted him to do it, the act would mean nothing and he would be left even more unsatisfied than before. Andrew stared at her in disbelief, his body tense, aching for her. She was so completely powerless before him, and yet it was with her very inability to contest him that she bested him. It was positively infuriating. How was Andrew to compete with weakness and vulnerability? Her openness and utter lack of resistance and dependance upon his action was totally overpowering.
Sera finally lifted her face, letting her eyes meet his. The anguish she read there seemed to melt her insides upon contact.
One slight step forward of hers was all it took to grant the permission he sought. Andrew had crossed the remaining space between them instantaneously, encircling her waist in his arms.
“Oh, Lady,” he breathed into the hair atop her head.
His use of the word made her smile faintly, reminding her of the time in the cellar when she had been certain he would drain her.
“Why didn’t you come to me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper shuddering with the trembling in his chest as he brought his face down to hers and traced his lips delicately across the contours of her face.
“I..” All of the sudden her own voice was shaking too. Gripping the folds of his shirt at the waist, she forced herself to continue. “I didn’t know if you’d want me again. So,” she paused, looking down, “I had to wait.”
Not want her? Not want her? The idea, completely foreign to him, replayed itself over in his mind. Knowing what it was to want her, he could not remember, much less imagine what it could possibly be like not to. And yet there she stood, in his arms, still uncertain. And he had thought she had been playing with him. How could she possibly not know? The mere mention of her name by the others in conversation sent him into an oblivion of longing.
There really was only one way for Andrew Baron to answer her. Holding close and tight with one arm, he ran his free hand up her back to her neck, tilting her head back just enough for him to lean down and press his mouth against hers.
Had he been at all in doubt as to Sera’s reaction, the violent beating of her heart and rushing of her blood would have been more than enough for him to silence his uncertainty. Her veins were instantly on fire. Was it possible to go completely limp and tense at the same time? If so then that’s exactly how it felt.
Pulling back slightly, he looked into her face, piercing her black eyes with his fiery blue ones.
“When I first saw you, back in England, I thought there was no way you could ever want me like I wanted you. You tortured me. You still do.”
His words brought another smile to her lips.
“To think, I was so terrified of you then.”
“You’re not anymore?” For some reason he didn’t know whether he liked this idea or not.
“Only half the time,” she responded, leaning in to kiss the bare part of his chest left exposed by his untied shirt strings.
“Half the time? Hmm,” he mused, mouth by her ear. “That sounds just right.”
bic:
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
It was definitely not a question.
She hadn’t been aware of his approach but she managed to keep herself from jumping at the sound of his voice addressing her from the door behind her.
Of course she’d been expecting this. It had been three nights since their first time together. That night she had stayed awake long afterward, waiting until she was certain he slept before gently untangling her arms from his and making her way up to her chamber, leaving the godlike creature to sleep alone with the fire. (The other’s, unaware of what had happened, had given him hell early the next evening at discovering him sprawled on the couch, hair and clothing all disheveled.) After that evening however, she had kept her distance. Why, she wasn’t quite sure.
He had crossed the room by now, stopping a few short feet behind her, close enough for her to hear his breathing. It was low and uneven.
“You won’t even look at me in front of the others anymore. You won’t even now,” his voice was rising in mounting frustration.
She still made no movement.
“Sera!”
Before he could stop himself he had taken hold of one of her shoulders and spun her around to face him. The ease with which he did so along with the look he then saw on her face made him drop his hand instantly and take a step back. The body was submissive, the expression blank. He could take her then and there and she could and would do nothing to stop him. And yet he knew that unless she wanted him to do it, the act would mean nothing and he would be left even more unsatisfied than before. Andrew stared at her in disbelief, his body tense, aching for her. She was so completely powerless before him, and yet it was with her very inability to contest him that she bested him. It was positively infuriating. How was Andrew to compete with weakness and vulnerability? Her openness and utter lack of resistance and dependance upon his action was totally overpowering.
Sera finally lifted her face, letting her eyes meet his. The anguish she read there seemed to melt her insides upon contact.
One slight step forward of hers was all it took to grant the permission he sought. Andrew had crossed the remaining space between them instantaneously, encircling her waist in his arms.
“Oh, Lady,” he breathed into the hair atop her head.
His use of the word made her smile faintly, reminding her of the time in the cellar when she had been certain he would drain her.
“Why didn’t you come to me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper shuddering with the trembling in his chest as he brought his face down to hers and traced his lips delicately across the contours of her face.
“I..” All of the sudden her own voice was shaking too. Gripping the folds of his shirt at the waist, she forced herself to continue. “I didn’t know if you’d want me again. So,” she paused, looking down, “I had to wait.”
Not want her? Not want her? The idea, completely foreign to him, replayed itself over in his mind. Knowing what it was to want her, he could not remember, much less imagine what it could possibly be like not to. And yet there she stood, in his arms, still uncertain. And he had thought she had been playing with him. How could she possibly not know? The mere mention of her name by the others in conversation sent him into an oblivion of longing.
There really was only one way for Andrew Baron to answer her. Holding close and tight with one arm, he ran his free hand up her back to her neck, tilting her head back just enough for him to lean down and press his mouth against hers.
Had he been at all in doubt as to Sera’s reaction, the violent beating of her heart and rushing of her blood would have been more than enough for him to silence his uncertainty. Her veins were instantly on fire. Was it possible to go completely limp and tense at the same time? If so then that’s exactly how it felt.
Pulling back slightly, he looked into her face, piercing her black eyes with his fiery blue ones.
“When I first saw you, back in England, I thought there was no way you could ever want me like I wanted you. You tortured me. You still do.”
His words brought another smile to her lips.
“To think, I was so terrified of you then.”
“You’re not anymore?” For some reason he didn’t know whether he liked this idea or not.
“Only half the time,” she responded, leaning in to kiss the bare part of his chest left exposed by his untied shirt strings.
“Half the time? Hmm,” he mused, mouth by her ear. “That sounds just right.”