#mortetm

It happened so quickly and so naturally there was very little time to properly register the new development that suddenly cut the flow of their conversation. Marcus only remembered hearing the distinct ping! of the plastic button as it fell unto the ground and rolled in front of them, immediately drawing his eyes to see it now lying down not to far from them. Then his eyes went to her face. Then they went down to her chest. Then back up to her face. It wasn’t until he got winked at that he felt the rush of embarrassment and the heat reaching his face.

“...Uhm, Eiko?” it’s meek and lowly intoned as the man is left behind a few steps, stunned in place by how casually she dismissed the whole deal. God, he’s not properly equipped to deal with this...! Not that he’d taken any sort of offence, not at all, a woman should be free to feel comfortable no matter her clothing, or lack there of. But call him all fashioned and all when getting concerned at this kind of wardrobe malfunction. 

Just A Peek! Meme - accepting

8. My Muse fighting with their belt for some reason, showing off some hip/waist

@mortetm

Phone buzzes with a notification just as he was getting dressed with a his now fresh and clean clothes. After the attack something needed to be done about all that dust and blood and Eiko's been kind enough to allow him to clean them and let them dry at her place while he rested. He was almost done, needing only to secure his now tattered jeans around his waist and tighten his belt, but he got distracted by his phone.

It's from his direct superiors at the sylvic agency, they must've heard he got caught in an attack and were asking about his wellbeing. It doesn't kill him to reply back right away, but his fingers are thick and calloused, typing on such a small screen is a bit bothersome and slow. So he pauses from his current task to focus on the other, oblivious to his undone jeans, the belt hanging loosely at each side or how the edge of the waistline as is slowly slid down narrow hips. It doesn't help that his undershirt is also a little on the shorter side [ finding well fitting clothes is a bit hard for his stature], so the view to his hips and lower stomach is clear and evident, along with a subtle peek at the edge of his boxers.

A few minutes pass until he's done with his phone and resumes with dressing up, thoughts of the attack, his wounds and his timely return to the forest still clogging up his mind. So much so that he's very late to notice the woman standing in the doorframe. The ensuing eye contact is a little too long than it needed to be, before he realizes he's still not buckled up.

Touch my muse - accepting

@mortetm

The years have made him overly sensitive to touch, especially the ones that ghost ever so subtly across his skin. These gentle gestures are foreign to him. So much so that, for a brief moment, he's on full alert, tense and prepared to immediately shift into defensiveness. But it melts away moments later though, just as her fingers reach his face and Marcus leans into her touch like an abused animal, who's been starved of physical affection for years.

The curve of her smile is lovely, but he feels like he doesn't deserve it. "...Your hands." he intones slowly, almost embarrassed. "...After the attack, they got---" damaged? That word wasn't nearly enough to describe the state she'd got herself into. Even he has a rough time mentioning it right now. He pursed his lips, large palm rising up to cover hers against his cheek. "...How are your hands, Eiko?"