#threading queue

from here || accepting || @royaldreamweaver

“I know”

Ryuken doesn’t move a muscle. He stays in his seat, eyes fixed on her and what she offers. It’s not that he doesn’t want that. If anything, a little affection is sorely needed. The day has been unreasonably long and there’s something so appealing about judt curling up and resting for a bit...

If only admitting that didn’t feel so difficult

“and you don’t have to do that”

Shutara sits down on the couch beside him.  He’s clearly stressed, working so many hours, so few breaks.

“I know,” she echoes.  “And I think that’s why you also know that I must.”

Gently, she moves him, toppling him gently to rest in her lap.  Her sure hands remove his glasses and then one strokes through the white hair.   She smiles softly as she gives her affection, steadying, comforting.

unprompted || always accepting || @royaldreamweaver

"I don't know what you mean"

She's never been a good liar. She can do the beats of it, and maybe even fool someone less observant, but for someone like Shutara, she's practically transparent. A hand on lands on her back and she tries to remain still, acting natural, although the proximity of the other woman makes that hard. It's a very calculated invasion of her space.

There's no use in trying to play innocent.

She takes a deep breath, focussing on the words and her own presentation when she really should have been focussing on actions. The arm around her waist genuinely makes her jump, and then there's a head on her shoulder and deep red eyes boring into hers, seeking out some answer or another.

Nanao's mouth opens and closes, halfway there to confessing before her own thoughts get the better of her and she's silent again, caught firmly in between rage and acceptance. Shutara know's she's no good at this, why would she be so cruel? but at the same time, all it would take is for her to spit the words out ans this could all be over.

There's a softness to her when she looks up, the dints of a scowl present in her forehead but no more than that. It's a very pregnant silence. Nanao still wrestles with the words, the demon of her own self doubt winning out eventually, holding everything in.

"I..."

Shutara knows.  She knows this well.  She’s always been able to read between the lines, after all, when you work in the shadows, you either learn quickly or die.  Assassins are cunning, though it’s self selecting.  You can’t be cunning if you’re dead.  

It’s certainly careful, certainly calculated. It’s nowhere truly intimate, but Shutara *knows*.  She feels the jump and she merely embraces her just a bit more.  She holds her close, the warmth of her skin amplified by the heat of connection, the notes of pomegranate and incense and amber in her scent ever-present.  She’s a sensual delight and she knows it, and she knows that when she allows herself, Nanao can be, too.   Shutara is loving and deeply so.  But she knows that Nanao needs a combination of her softness, support, and tough love sometimes before she can even attempt to put words to what she desires most.  

“What’s the worst that could happen?  That you’d express yourself and you’d be ridiculed?  Used? Turned down?”

She shakes her head.  “I would never.  Not with you.”

Painted eyes close and she just merely holds her, grateful, even if that’s all she’ll ever get.  

She’s giving her own vulnerability now.