Adore me
Send âAdore meâ for my muse to describe yours sensually. // Selectively Acceptingâ @telasulevin
The quiet of Solasâ rotunda offered a good space for focus. Thus, it was no surprise that the Inquisitor would, from time to time, seek it out when she needed to sort through various treaties and business proposals that required her measured response. Solas, silent and unassuming, undoubtedly made for the perfect company during these moments.Â
Velawen fussed through papers, seated on the couch against the wall as Solas sat at his desk, chair positioned to face her and open himself up to her presence. His nose was down in his book; a personal journal he kept with him, scribbled with tangential ideas and observations. Mostly though, it served him as a sketchbook.Â
First, Solas drew the frame of the panel of wall behind her, beginning to consider his next mural. Geometric lines started in what would eventually depict the events that took place at the Winter Palace. As time wore on, and Solasâ focus dulled, he found himself idly sketching around the panel. He drew the scaffold on his left, positioned aside one of the many arched door frames. After that, the light fixture a few feet above Velawen, who now laid on her back in his couch. Finally, inevitably, at first unthinkingly, he began to draw her.
Starting at her feet which propped up against the arm of the seat, he drew up the length of her legs. Slender, yet muscled calves led way to thickly toned thighs. With great attention and care his hand continued, tracing up the firm curve of her backside. He lingered there to add detail and shadow. What followed was the gentle arch of her back as it shaped into the cushions beneath her. He drew up the delicate nape of her neck. And then to the back of her head to which he added long dark hair with mild waves that reached and almost pooled onto the floor below.Â
He circled back, focusing next on the flat of her stomach, which led unavoidably up to the fine curve of her breasts. He felt a mild heat that he chose to ignore. He sketched arms which angled to gentle hands and long, lithe fingers that held her papers just so in front of her face. Penultimate, past her bared throat, came the lines of her jaw, and shadows of her cheeks. The final features were her perfectly pointed ears, soft inviting lips, defined nose, eyes and brows. He regarded the whole of his image and then back to her; his muse. He smiled tenderly at her, before returning his attention back to his book and the design of the mural above.Â
