stained glass windows in my mind

There is a vacancy in her mind as she remembers the drownings, as it comes back in flashes in her mind. She stares off into space, reciting what had happened, as if she were reading a file somewhere- cold, clinical.

She almost misses it when he says her new name, Meira, and it takes a few seconds for her to focus on that- to blink to focus on Him. His words are like a mantra, and she repeats them silently in her mind for a moment, before she nods, her eyes clearing.

Whatever they were, they were in this together; life had fucked them both over, so that… they at least only had each other. She moved closer to him, aiming to tilt her head so that she could look up into his eyes. “No one will hurt them.” She breathed.

“We won’t allow it.” Their children could live and have good lives without them- and they could at least ensure that. She shook herself, sending some mud flying and she huffed softly. “Maybe we should dye our fur.” She suggested. That wouldn’t be so cumbersome- would it? It wouldn't feel so gross. She looked down at herself, and wrinkled her nose, before huffing softly. "I guess Meira likes the mud more than Ghyslaine did." She said, after a moment, and rather wryly.

@András

i regret you all the time

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There is a small sense of pleasure and pride that comes from the way his words seem to snap her free of her thoughts. A small, pleased smile unfurls upon his lips as she turns her gaze toward him once more, a familiar and fervent heat stirring deep in his chest. Long had he denied his feelings of her, afraid to repeat the same history he'd lived through twice already, but there was little András had left to lose now, and he were still just a man—still as longing and as greedy as he was when he was a boy, unafraid of the world and unknowing of the cruel fates yet to come.

He still wanted her, despite it all, and that had to mean something.

As she inched closer to him, he sought to meet her halfway, leaving very little space between them. What space there was, was filled with his heavy breath, his head lowering to catch her gaze just as she'd done the same. And as she spoke, for a brief moment, András thought @Ghyslaine was speaking of their children—theirs, manifestations that did not exist, and yet, the idea of it quickly caused his heart to thunder, his thighs to twitch. It was only in the contemplative seconds after did he realize what she had truly meant, and a heavy guilt crept in, accompanying his other urges that fought to leave.

A steady sigh exhaled through his lips, his paw reaching upward in an attempt to rest on the small of her back, hoping to tug her closer despite their muddied fur, disheveled sheepishness. Mm, he purred, his eyes slowly closing; the closer she got, the more the guilt slipped away, the more that other aching feeling began to rise again. He were just a man, after all. Luckily for Meira, Folke likes the mud a lot, too.

Art by Kite, table by cala

stained glass windows in my mind

There was a strange hunger within her, that did not seem to be easily satiated. Ghyslaine was not a stranger to this hunger, and had felt it before with Nero- the desire, the burning of lust and the need for the feel of flesh against flesh. Yet, for Meira it was all new, a daring adventure that she couldn't get enough of. The rightness of being here with @András -- Folke, covered in mud, disguising themselves -- it felt right.

The weight of his paw against her back, had the desired effect and she drifted closer to him- to press into him and his muddy fur. She aimed to angle her head up, as he spoke, about Folke liking the mud, and aimed to nibble at his chin, smearing her muzzle with the mud- caring little for the mess it would cause.

"Does he now?" She hummed softly. "What else does he like?" A softly spoke question, mixed with a lilting sort of tone- evident of her teasing as she tried to nibble along his jaw. "Does Folke enjoy this?" She asked about her actions.

i regret you all the time

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The gentleness of her touch, the roguish smell that emanated from her in waves. Despite all the Meira that was spelled into her skin he could still sense @Ghyslaine deep beneath. The feeling of her caresses against his chin caused his eyes to flutter shut, a heavy breath to escape his lips in a fleeting suspire. However mud-covered and disheveled they were, there was still that hunger lurking deep beneath, the fire that unfurled and consumed him in ways he was familiar with yet experiencing all over again. Even now, he had been with her as Ghyslaine, and now that she was Meira, everything truly were entirely new.

As her nibbles reach down his jaw, his sense of control cracks. His claws unsheath, but they are gentle as they dig into her back, intended almost to tickle the skin that lingered beneath her dirt-darkened fur. As it continues southward and catches onto her hip, he attempts to turn her around, aiming to rest his chin on the top of her head and run his teeth along the fringes of her ear. He does, he purred into her ear, before moving down, planting small kisses along her jawline, attempting to tug her beneath him. He likes you. Small slivers of orange appeared from half-lidded eyes, sweeping down unto her, losing himself in her once more.

He loves you.

Fade to black.

Art by Kite, table by cala

stained glass windows in my mind

Her heart thundered in her chest, as desire for him pressed into her belly. Meira, as it were was hungry for the feeling of him but Ghyslaine wanted him too. Wanted to feel- something, and lust and desire were both feelings- and she wanted to lose herself into them. She feels the prickle of claws, as his paw moves- guiding her body, and a rumbling sound of pleasure leaves her. Then he speaks, and she grins, pressing herself into him- her head tilting up and back as he pressed kisses and pulled her beneath him, humming in response to his words.

He loves you

She is surprised, but accepts the words willingly, accepts the implications of their actions, their words, and just goes with the flow- losing herself totally into the moment, into Folke- into @András .

"She loves you too." She breathed out, and let herself go.

-fade to black-

i regret you all the time

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