[she furrows her brow slightly, staring off to the side as she thinks with some effort. it's not an understatement to say she and her sisters were majorly sheltered. such is the case with incredibly religious russian orthodox families. but... but! they had good times!]
Haha, do I have to kneel? Ah, no. I really need this, so I would deeply appreciate it if you'd assist, princess.
[He can be eloquent when he tries.]
You're new, so I guess you don't know yet. I have the Doppelganger inside me, see? Every time I use its power, I get the memories of whoever I turn into. And I've turned into a lot of people today. When that happens, I can barely remember myself...
even if it's bullshit, the admission visibly summons empathy from anastasia. a troubled look lingers in her eyes, and she seems a bit sad. it would hurt if she couldn't recall the memories of her family. it had felt like she was on the brink of losing herself, several times, throughout her months of captivity.
and what person alive knows, now, what she really experienced?
[And he sees he's struck a chord. Now what he says is true, but things are so convenient once he gets some sympathy. It makes him feel a little more special. Ha. Special. Sympathy, pity—he never gets more than that.
So he'll never give more than that.]
But the only time I can get it back, [he sighs as he leans closer.] is when I use my body. And I don't think I can ask you for a good fistfight, princess.
she turns her head away as he leans in even closer, so that his breath brushes mostly over her ear, her neck, and anastasia appears to occupy herself with gazing out at the rest of the club. truthfully, she sees nothing at all.
he's not wrong. although her spells could thrash any assassin, that doesn't exactly help him use his body. is she... just going to agree to it, though? shouldn't there be more debate than this? she's an imperial princess. she has never known a man.
her (admittedly well-intentioned) desire to assist an ally wins out over her long defeated need to preserve her chastity. she's given up on everything; why is this any different?
he could just be using her, but then, there's the same answer: it doesn't matter.
perhaps they have one more thing in common.
she moves to thread a hand with his, if he'll allow it, and lightly presses her body against his chest as she almost nuzzles into the crook of his neck with the intimacy.]
[ He doesn't expect her to say yes. He is only ever as good as the stars when they shine their brightest in the sky. This is not his brightest yet when she touches his hand, he doesn't hate himself enough to reject her; only enough to resign himself to what he has to do. But this is for him — as far as he's concerned he isn't denying himself anything, so maybe hate isn't the right word.
(She leans in and she can hear his heart beating faster than hers. He'd never admit to making a sound so foolish.)
Don't accept him so easily. ]
Relax. I know how to make it good for you.
[ His lips brush against her ear as his words do and slowly, he begins. It starts with the squeeze of her hand, a kiss on her neck—
[it's an alarmingly intimate, yet careful and delicate process. no one has ever kissed her like this, either, with lips teasing the edge of her ear and pressing against the soft skin of her neck—leaving a warmth in their wake reminding her a little of the heat of a roaring fire. it occurs to her that assassin must be seeking to reassure her.]
I hope you won't go further out here...
[she has the elegance of a tsaritsa, somehow, even when she's allowing him to taste her.
her meaning should be clear: take her to a private place, at least, if he's going to sleep with her.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
i bet that icon was the face he makes before he nuts
Huh?
[she furrows her brow slightly, staring off to the side as she thinks with some effort. it's not an understatement to say she and her sisters were majorly sheltered. such is the case with incredibly religious russian orthodox families. but... but! they had good times!]
I've had plenty of times where I enjoyed myself.
hate that you're right
[He knows what she means, but the opening is right there and he can't help but take it.]
Me too! [He chuckles.] I guess that's one more thing we have in common, princess. I like girls like you.
i want her to sexually frustrate him
[stated as if it might as well be "duh", instead.]
she's literally doing that rn
[It's not.]
That's why I think you can help me.
do you think this is the extent of her abilities
Help you with what? I see no reason not to entertain requests if they're delivered politely.
god
[He can be eloquent when he tries.]
You're new, so I guess you don't know yet. I have the Doppelganger inside me, see? Every time I use its power, I get the memories of whoever I turn into. And I've turned into a lot of people today. When that happens, I can barely remember myself...
no subject
even if it's bullshit, the admission visibly summons empathy from anastasia. a troubled look lingers in her eyes, and she seems a bit sad. it would hurt if she couldn't recall the memories of her family. it had felt like she was on the brink of losing herself, several times, throughout her months of captivity.
and what person alive knows, now, what she really experienced?
memories are tender, special things.]
You need— [ah.]
no subject
[And he sees he's struck a chord. Now what he says is true, but things are so convenient once he gets some sympathy. It makes him feel a little more special. Ha. Special. Sympathy, pity—he never gets more than that.
So he'll never give more than that.]
But the only time I can get it back, [he sighs as he leans closer.] is when I use my body. And I don't think I can ask you for a good fistfight, princess.
no subject
she turns her head away as he leans in even closer, so that his breath brushes mostly over her ear, her neck, and anastasia appears to occupy herself with gazing out at the rest of the club. truthfully, she sees nothing at all.
he's not wrong. although her spells could thrash any assassin, that doesn't exactly help him use his body. is she... just going to agree to it, though? shouldn't there be more debate than this? she's an imperial princess. she has never known a man.
her (admittedly well-intentioned) desire to assist an ally wins out over her long defeated need to preserve her chastity. she's given up on everything; why is this any different?
he could just be using her, but then, there's the same answer: it doesn't matter.
perhaps they have one more thing in common.
she moves to thread a hand with his, if he'll allow it, and lightly presses her body against his chest as she almost nuzzles into the crook of his neck with the intimacy.]
no subject
(She leans in and she can hear his heart beating faster than hers. He'd never admit to making a sound so foolish.)
Don't accept him so easily. ]
Relax. I know how to make it good for you.
[ His lips brush against her ear as his words do and slowly, he begins. It starts with the squeeze of her hand, a kiss on her neck—
Hot kisses that bloom red on her bare skin. ]
no subject
I hope you won't go further out here...
[she has the elegance of a tsaritsa, somehow, even when she's allowing him to taste her.
her meaning should be clear: take her to a private place, at least, if he's going to sleep with her.]