[ Ilde's relationship to the body is a fraught one. Sometimes entirely too forcible: pain, pain, pain, hers, theirs, the world's. Sometimes so distant as to not exist at all: exhaustion so deep that flesh meant nothing at all. In a way, she thinks nothing of nudity, has seen plenty enough of it in her wasted world where modesty was nigh on meaningless, they were all dissipating skeletons, starving and dehydrated bags of bones. Facts of life, as disgusting as it was beautiful: momento mori.
And then there is the way that her body has been mythologized.
She shouldn't be touched. She had been assured of it, had undergone the procedure, so oddly scientific sounding for something built out of superstition.
The way she feels as Angel comes into the water with her is utterly foreign to her. She has felt very in control of things with the other girl, until now. They have gone somewhere she cannot identify, parts of her body and her mind lighting up in a way they never have before. Not for anyone. It is an overheated sensation that she could almost blame on the hot bath but--
She's not so terribly stupid.
She flushes, in her cheeks and down her chest, a kind of deluge unlike any other, too much emotion. Almost painful, but the pain does its work: the last thing on her mind is the explosion, or Anakin Skywalker. She is grounded in her skin, all goose flesh and over sensitive.
There is one more scar that her mind cannot stop catching on. One she never speaks of, one she had always assumed no one would ever see, but what if Angel continues to play this game of leapfrog? One after the other exploring a little further. Where will that take them. A terrifying but interesting prospect. ]
He... did more than merely declare me a virgin.
[ Breathless, a confession. Uncertain what else she intends to say. Some of the work was undone, it had been explained to her simply, a quick lesson in bodily function. She knows it was all madness, but she had worn that mark with pride a long time. Can she set it aside?
Her heart beats rapidly in her chest. Engulfed in her own disharmony. ]
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And then there is the way that her body has been mythologized.
She shouldn't be touched. She had been assured of it, had undergone the procedure, so oddly scientific sounding for something built out of superstition.
The way she feels as Angel comes into the water with her is utterly foreign to her. She has felt very in control of things with the other girl, until now. They have gone somewhere she cannot identify, parts of her body and her mind lighting up in a way they never have before. Not for anyone. It is an overheated sensation that she could almost blame on the hot bath but--
She's not so terribly stupid.
She flushes, in her cheeks and down her chest, a kind of deluge unlike any other, too much emotion. Almost painful, but the pain does its work: the last thing on her mind is the explosion, or Anakin Skywalker. She is grounded in her skin, all goose flesh and over sensitive.
There is one more scar that her mind cannot stop catching on. One she never speaks of, one she had always assumed no one would ever see, but what if Angel continues to play this game of leapfrog? One after the other exploring a little further. Where will that take them. A terrifying but interesting prospect. ]
He... did more than merely declare me a virgin.
[ Breathless, a confession. Uncertain what else she intends to say. Some of the work was undone, it had been explained to her simply, a quick lesson in bodily function. She knows it was all madness, but she had worn that mark with pride a long time. Can she set it aside?
Her heart beats rapidly in her chest. Engulfed in her own disharmony. ]