station72 | mental link: D46

( I was scared. )

[ That she wouldn't come back. There is so much relief to be found in the way Ilde's hands reach for her, threading into her hair, soft, light, reassuring of her presence. Her face turns up, hands slipping in her clothes to press her in as her back leans into the wall, leading Ilde against her. Palms flat and she means to say something else but as her lips drag against Ilde's the only thing that comes from her is a terribly needy sound. High in her throat where pulse beats quick-quick-quick, for them and them alone. ]

( I'm so sorry. )

[ It does feel like a failing of hers, somehow, some way. She has resisted so long while others have risen and fallen. Why now? What was different? Her anger, her rift in her brood, her aggressive pursuit of power. She had gone too far, and she had suffered for it. She had made Angel and all of the others suffer for it. Worrying if she would ever awaken. Worrying, when Ilde should simply have been there and awake to soothe them, to keep their minds peaceful and steady. It was her duty. To tend things, to feed them, make them strong. (To make them depend on her, respond to her touch.)

Although the way Angel reacts to her is entirely novel, soft and warm and desperate. It feeds into Ilde as well, she doesn't know how to tame this kind of desperation, this longing. All she can do is pull the girl into her and take her kiss in stride, the wet of their mouths sticky at the corners. ]

[ Honestly, out of all of the things he's walked in on both here and living at the Avenger's compound back home, finding Angel and Ilde making out on his way in is far from the worst. There's a quick flash of amusement and a fond smile curving at his lips as he almost considers just ducking his head and walking on by - except that it doesn't seem like this is just a brief thing, and it's already awkward enough with the teenagers in his brood thinking about kissing people.

He reaches out mentally first, partly because his encounters with Angel have been when he was in a state more comfortable with mental contact and partly because he isn't entirely sure they'll hear him if he just does the old standby of clearing his throat. It's a nudge against both their minds, gentle and with a faint hint of apology for the intrusion, before he speaks. ]

Angel?

[ She doesn't notice, like he suspects, too busy crashing like waves on rock. Chipping away at her kept secret bit of loneliness. Filling up an empty bit of her.

Then she feels his mind press against her and the call of her name comes with it and she breaks from the kiss, dropping her hands like someone just set a cat amongst the pigeons. Eyes wide and all pink in the face with the heat of it and the sudden flood of utter embarrassment. Mouth parted in a noise of surprise that leaves her bewildered utterly. ]

Oh - uh. [ Her fingers catch back against Ilde, looking for stability, but this time it's not quite so much her pawing at her desperately as hooking her fingers against Ilde's clothes in reassurance that at least she's not alone right now in being busted. ] Hi, Sam. We were just...

[ Being really obvious, apparently. Yeah, there's no pretending this was something else. Not that she probably has to lie and pretend, it just comes as gut reaction as she looks back at Ilde then back to Sam. ] ... saying hello?

[ Yeah, great, good job, Angel. ]

[ Ilde gives a little gasp as they break apart so hurriedly, cold air settling in where there had been warmth. Slightly dazed, but no much so that she doesn't realize someone is watching them. Her face also turns very pink immediately. She can hear Angel rambling some kind of excuse. Did they need an excuse? Well, only in so much as they have had a private moment interrupted and it was their own fault. Or was, it really? What else were they going to do after being separated like this for the first time? Ilde was the steady guiding hand here, Angel was all passion and action. Of course it ended up like this.

But she's hardly going to explain that aloud, is she?

She touches her fingertips to her lips, wondering what it is one says in such a situation, and... and really all she can come up with is a stammering, ]

Hello.

[ He's tempted to tease that if that's how saying hello should be, he's been missing out for years - but they're clearly a little bit embarrassed, and he doesn't know Ilde enough to tease her, even if it is affectionately meant.

So instead he holds up his hands, shaking his head as he lets a swirl of understanding tinge his words. ]

Ain't no one going to fault you for missing each other. [ Well, Sam isn't, at least, but that's all that matters right now. ] Just thought maybe it's something that could use a little more privacy than this.

[ It seems only then she really realises that it's not somewhere private, blinking at him as the haze clears from her little by little and she ducks her head and - yeah, he's probably got a point there. ]

Yeah, yeah. That might be a good idea?

[ She tugs gently at Ilde's sleeve. Because there's definitely better places to do this. Her room, or Ilde's, either way. The colour is still high in her face, and at least it's the same for Ilde. ] So, we'll.... do that?

[ Sweet merciful baby eating skags on fire, how quickly can she sink through the floor. ]

[ Her eyes flicker up at him, contrite and flustered, but he's not reprimanding them in any way. Should he be? There is entirely too much about this awkward social situation that she doesn't understand. Angel is the first person she has ever been this physical with, the Hive is the largest and most interactive group she has ever been a part of. Being declared a vestal virgin who worked in the subterranean gardens of mad king didn't leave one with much social interaction...

She follows where Angel tugs, and somehow trying to figure out how to escape this gracefully murmurs, ]

Excuse us.

[ With an unnecessarily formal little dip of her head. ]

[ And with a last touch of understanding and a quiet hint of welcome back to Ilde, Sam's just going to duck out of here and let them get back to saying hello in a place where he won't have to hear about it from his teenagers through their broodlink. ]

[ She watches him go and waits at least a second before she presses her face into Ilde's shoulder.

And she bursts out laughing - that was - completely ridiculous. She already had a dozen reasons to feel awkward in front of Sam as was ( some of them more serious than this ). Letting out some of the tension. But she pulls away, straightening up, taking up Ilde's hand properly to begin to lead her away. ]

Come on.

[ she's still stifling giggles, quick on her feet. Interruptions and fumbled excuses aside, she really did want to say hello to her. ]

[ Angel's giddy relief is like champagne bubbles, effervescent and muddling, already distracting away from the interruption. Their hands clasped, they scurry away to be sweet in secret. Eager and weightless, no bittersweet loves gone by to temper their excitement. It has lifted the guilt from it all, the confession of fear and Ilde's sorrow to have caused it, her helplessness to have prevented it. Now the only real thought is to take her welcoming.

She nudges silently for Angel to go to her own room. Too many people have been visiting hers to greet her, which she... can hardly complain about about -- being cared for, being missed -- but one interruption is enough. As soon as they have the door shut behind them, Ilde loops her arms around Angel's waist. ]

( I missed you, darling. )

[ 'Darling' is more sentiment than word: a person very dear to another; one dearly loved. She knows Angel doesn't care for the word love so she leaves it in the background, expressing herself in feelings instead. And her feeling is, as always, that they are best together. The balloon and the silken ribbon.

Her kiss is less desperate, taking Angel's lower lip between her own and applying a steady pressure there, giving her a swollen pout. ]

[ She has so much to tell her - both good and bad, and in the same way Ilde had told her everything that had passed, so too does Angel want to talk to her about what had happened in her absence. Share with her all the things she didn't speak to others about.

But it can wait as Ilde shuts the door behind her. They'll have plenty of time to talk and all she cares about right now is reaffirming something tangible. Because she has been ribbonless, she has been scattered, drifting untethered and with it, what a mess she is without it.

She does not respond, she has said it clearly enough. That she has missed her, it's written in her limbs where they slip over her shoulders, the little dip in her clavicle where she takes a deep breath as Ilde kisses her again. More sure, and with it, it's an answer that she wants. Distracted utterly, perhaps that was the purpose. It's different to just a kiss. She'd given a dozen of those now. Brushes against cheeks, hands, the one she'd given Steve had been tender.

This makes something unfurl in her chest, a small etching of a noise that whines almost as she feels the pressure build up over so small a thing. Not an unhappy noise at all, by half, especially not with the way she presses herself close once more. ]

[ She pushes a lock of hair back off Angel's face, pulling back just enough to look her in the face but not very far at all. What is that pain and how can she ease it? She kisses Angel between the eyes, just holding her close and breathing in her scent for a long moment. ]

( Where is your perfume? )

[ A night jasmine scent dredged deep and seductive with vanilla, brandy, and oak. Ever so slightly alcoholic, but assuredly sweet. Ilde had picked it out the very next day after promising to do so. She had known exactly what she wanted, something feminine but ever so subtly indecent, delicious. ]

[ There's a flush of warmth up her neck, all pink and eager. She liked that, she realises, all prickly in her body like the static electricity that comes so natural to her now.

( I didn't want to wear it when you weren't here. )

[ Her fingers keep their close hold, as she head ducks - it seemed silly. But it somehow wasn't the same if Ilde wasn't there to appreciate it on her. Because she liked it - she truthfully had no preference. Sometimes things were overwhelming. But it was like draping herself in Ilde's affections, and it wouldn't be right if Ilde wasn't there to appreciate how it settled on her skin. ]

[ There are a few props she is interested in, all from Giorno's little session to them on the makings of beauty. Ilde had taken somewhat of a different lesson from the encounter...

The perfume she takes on fingertips, unscrewing the lid of the little crystal bottle to use as a liquid rather than a spray. She presses the scent of it into Angel's skin, like painting her in outline. Following the line of her collarbones, the hollow of her throat, up to the crescent bone behind her ear, down across the flush of her chest, the peak of her cleavage. She does so with torturous intent, eyes fixated on the places where her fingertip runs in featherlight strokes.

Angel's skin glistens briefly from the liquid touch before the oils are absorbed, infusing her with the scent.

Ilde presses her in, kissing her at the hinge of her jaw and inhaling deep for a moment... but then she's backed away abruptly, fiddling through the stash of makeup again, leaving Angel to squirm and try to breathe all on her own. ]

Edited 2016-10-21 16:55 (UTC)

[ She's curious, watching her, as she comes closer with the rich scent all over her fingers. Eyes turned down as Ilde brings her fingers to her skin and - the liquid is cold in comparison to the prickling heat that blooms as she watches her trace against her neck.

It's intimate, careful, being painted in the way she is usually the one painting. It brings her breath up quick, taking in the scent and the warmth of Ilde being so close but not quite as much as she could be. A washing warmth that isn't quite like when they'd both sunk into a bath together. Hanging there, before Ilde leans in and she thinks that's it, she's there again, and the lips on her skin feel as good as they ever do. Starved thing that she is. ( especially so, biting her lip, when Ilde had been gone. )

But then she's gone in the next instance, and Angel's eyes snap open, confused as she steps away. Knitted little line of want that she forces down to see what she was doing first, even if she's twitching to pull her close again. ]

[ Leaning into the vanity mirror, Ilde carefully applies one of the lipsticks Giorno had left with them. Not nearly as sinfully red as insolence had been, but still sultry, adult. It puts all the emphasis on her mouth, the pout of her lips, makes her blue eyes very bright in her face in contrast.

She returns then.

Pulling Angel in to her and repeating the kiss in the same place, leaving a mark of red. Pushes the other girl's hair off her neck and leaves another mark there. Another on her shoulder. She has so much ground to cover, a girl to mark in the shape of her crimson lips. She toys with the hem of Angel's shirt, wants it to go away so she can spread her kisses down her body. ]

[ She liked the colour before - and she likes it just as much now, especially now, as when she comes closer and Angel can't seem to find anything else but to look at but her mouth. Red and full, and hers to kiss, right now.

But she waits to see just what Ilde is planning, her fingers coming up to catch against her dress. Not in the toying way her own clothes were being fiddled with, but more to keep herself steady. Because it's hard to keep still. Feeling the heat bloom like the red petal bright colour Ilde is stamping onto her skin. Plucked in her skin. Leaving an odd feeling of being there, on her, that was different. Not their curious brushing or teasing when neither of them were really sure what they were doing. Far too deliberate for it and she feels something curl so warm and sweet. All manageable up until she brushes against her neck and her body snaps up as a soft sound parts from her. It feels better than she ever expected to just - have mouth on skin. It keeps surprising her just how easy this is to fall into ( like she hadn't wanted too before she shoved her curiosity so far deep down it had barely even existed. There was no intimacy even with herself when her father watched her 24/7 )

Her hands let go to do what she feels prompted to by the tug of Ilde's mind, barely even a hesitation. Her loose shirt - all straps and lace, that she hooks her thumb under, curling her arms to bring it over her head quickly and easily. Discarding it away from her on the mess of her floor. Exposing too pale skin that is stark against the red of Ilde's kiss marks. ]

[ Ilde is waiting there, as the piece of fabric goes up over Angel's head, there to press against her mouth again, turning both of their lips into smear of red. A mess, a mark. Her own dress is going to have to be removed if she wants to be any closer, else they'll repeat the grease stained thing, all pawed up and down with Angel's handprints.

Ilde turns pulling her hair to the side, looking to Angel to take down the zipper along her spine. ]

[ She's quick to it - not least of all is that it lets her snatch a kiss of her own against her neck, though barely enough to leave a mark on her, half a breath and no more before she's urging the dress down her body. Watching it fall away and - there's nothing but appreciation in her gaze. She likes looking, she always liked looking. There was so much of Ilde to look at.

Pink on her cheeks when she looks up, though not half as bright of red on her lips that makes them bright on her skin. Breathless sort of anticipation for whatever it is Ilde has planned exactly. ]

[ Ilde shrugs slowly out of the white dress, letting it slip like water off her body. Now that Angel has seen and knows the scar that traces her entire back, she feels less self-conscious of it. She isn't sure why it made her nervous to begin with, was it simply the terrible memory of it? The anxiety at knowing it was a difficult mark to look at without asking, gasping, How? and then having to relive it with the telling? Was it a mark against her beauty? Her prized trait that she has turned into a weapon? She isn't sure, but what she does know is that Angel looks upon it with only tenderness.

Just as she looks upon Angel.

Though to say tenderness is the only emotion would be... false.

The heat in her kiss proves that. The possessiveness of all her marks proves that. ]

( I want to give you something you will never forget. )

[ The vibrant stain of lips all over her body, the tantalizing smell of that perfume. She wants to embed right now into the other girl's memory and senses. Just like Angel and Gio had explained that she could.

She guides Angel to sit on the edge of the bed with her, cupping her jaw as she continues to smear her lips red, bruising them into fullness. ]

Edited 2016-10-23 19:02 (UTC)

[ She feels dizzy, but not in a way that she minds, she finds. The way Idle's clothes drop from her, the way she follows their descent in a way that's open appreciation before Idle snatches her back up into a kiss again. The heat of it takes her off guard, snatches her up, has her leaning into it just to give as good as she got. The slant of her mouth isn't the precise way they'd touched before.

She feels rather, that she is being consumed, down to the last little bit of herself. Another time, with anyone else, it might bother her, but right now. She's - becoming just as Idle wants, her skin becoming stained, her tingly at the edge of something that is all too promising and the heat that's curled up in her belly like a thresher, is in her mouth, in her eyes, when she tumbles back to the edge of the bed, catching herself where she falls a little too heavily because her legs don't work at the best of times.

This just compounds it. Brings something up sharp in her eyes with it. Like sweeping away dust, and there's that savageness that lives in the back of the mind, right there and patiently turning up to kissing Idle, contained within it. Her fingers slipping to her waist, smoothing on her skin. ]

[ There is a savage thing that lives inside them both; and it had reacted to Angel's desperation and sorrow with this. Possession and attention, assertive. It was so easy to be brave for others. Even here, in this very foreign configuration, it is easy to simply focus on removing the longing from the other girl's mind, replacing it with a fevered reality. She draws Angel's pale slender legs across her lap, all strength and support and control. Their limbs twine, arms wrapping over and under, Angel's legs pulling her closer as they tense, toes curling.

Ilde is relentlessly attentive, and when she pulls away it is to peer intently into Angel's eyes, the absence of her mouth almost as overwhelming as its pressure. Breathlessly, chests heave against one another, eyes glazed, mouthes open in a mixture of shock and salivation.

In her own body, Ilde is overheated and oversensitive, jumping from her skin with a need she isn't entirely ready to define. ]

[ She's kiss-stained heat when Idle pulls up. Finding herself leaning back where Idle draws them into the tangle. A quickened rise and fall of her chest, adjusting herself to bring one leg around, settling herself either side of Ilde's body.

A single-minded focus whilst her eyes stare at her mouth and she catches her breath. Indulges the heat shared between them that settles in each of her limbs, her organs, lungs and heart and belly. A heaviness that drags her down for once, that she doesn't struggle against. Doesn't shy away from being watched.

Rather, this time, she lets it guide her, settles her weight on one hand as she leans back, letting the mess she's become be on full display for Ilde alone. Stretches into the settled feeling, as drags her heel across the bed as her leg stretches, lets her body unfurl like a piece of blue embroidered material so often left hidden away. Her marked leg the one across her, the marked arm holding her weight, the central marking in the middle of her chest that is usually all that can be seen travels in patterns down around her breasts, her ribs, her stomach, shifting like serpents on her with each breath and each movement of muscles below. All slithering before she settles again and her hand comes up. Slips to the back of her head and beckons her down, down, down. Shared and open and full -

( for the gods that she and the planets are named for, that some say she is marked by, Angel heard stories of: maidens would lower themselves into pits of vipers in order to prove the balance preserved, and adoringly to heat, so too does Angel wrap herself around like her body is scaled and nothing but the purpose of holding. ) ] I don't hate my skin when I'm with you.

[ In the heat of the moment, it is nearly impossible to imagine anyone hating this skin. It's silky paleness, the exotic curl of power down the other girl's side, like the stamp of some unknown goddess benevolent and wrathful in one; a possessive guardian which imbued power and light.

Nearly impossible to imagine, but not entirely. Of course Angel had no good thoughts for her body after the years of poison and disassociation. Ilde knows far too much about that, knows what it is like to have what few touches available to her come only with pain. She thinks about her scars, the constellations of burns and bites and claws.

I don't hate my skin when I'm with you.

Yes, yes, those are the words. The trueness of it bursts into sound, a resonation, a connection bright and fluid, volcanic in its heat. Minds aligning just as bodies do, heart beat, brain waves. It makes Ilde feel like she's submerging into warm water, overflowing with love and belonging, acceptance. Desire. It's blinding and so bright.

She cups the soft shape of Angel's breast as she leans in to lavish on that central marking, the eye of her storm, breathing in the scent of perfume and skin and feeling the murmur of heartbeat just to the right of her ear. The curve of her bust satiny against her cheek. ]

( Your skin is all sweetness -- delicate and fair. )

[ A sentiment more than literal words. ]

mental link: D46

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most timid nsfw garbage

shriek

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