[ If it weren't for how entrenched Ragna found himself becoming in her, that confused little "What?" might have broken his concentration and pulled him back up to the surface again. The uncertain, shier man that could only follow where Weiss was leading him. In the moment, it made sense. Counter her with something implicit when, once again, he only faintly gives himself a mental kick. Sounding cool again...but then, would Weiss have smacked him for being more brazen? Here he was, taking a chance to do something little for someone he didn't know with no strings attached...and it's his own thoughts leading him to think about her legs wrapped around his waist.
Whoever was making his Ma Po Tofu must have skipped on the "spice" that would otherwise be laced through it. It'd be an easy enough excuse to have for the way Weiss was making him feel now. A stupid excuse. She won't have to know then. He doesn't need to tell her— that he already feels indebted to her. He'll silently do right by her later. Far later when he wasn't so busy being lost in her when she calls him out on that stupid line. ]
Sorry.
[ Simple. Meaningful. But not one riddled in guilt. If he's nervous, she quells the potential quakes that'd have come with her softer laugh. One that wasn't steeped with ill berate. If anything, she cements that he can be honest now. Eyes on her, hands on her; she's the only thing that matters right now as they let themselves float away from this elevator. From this hotel. Armed with only each others' names... If this was supposed to be a dream, then he'd dream it a thousand times over what normally haunts him. He'll take Weiss' teasing, keeling over laughing at her own dumb knee jokes, holding his hand and bringing more honesty to the surface when he tells her that she's a good "First". Ragna could write a book on how to eat his own words in record time, because this first kiss? He sure as hell wasn't going to forget it.
Was this a crush, like she remarked before cutting his words down with her lips against his?
No. But for a girl he only just met over an hour ago, she sure is making a damning case as to why Ragna should give her all the attention she could ask for. Match her fervour with everything she could ask for. She hasn't stopped him, nor has he stopped her when she'd feel the broadness of his pec, moving subtly in response to her soft and gentle caress. Ragna was impressive, hardly a lick of fat to be found on him from years of relentless training that shaped him into the tall, muscular and athletic warrior he was today. Most of his physical strength was his own, after all. So while he never thought that it'd be roamed or clutched like this, especially when Weiss looses a soft moan from his grope...
That releases something inside of him. Something locked away. That "mood" she was in? He was feeling it too, to the point where he almost doesn't register her hand gliding lower to try and untuck his shirt. Until the two finally break away, his chest rising and falling to repurchase air, and that glistening line of spit linking them thins before they can wet their lips and sweep it away. Weiss pushed another button. A good button this time. And though the two of them weren't slotted and grinding right now, she'd finally gotten Mr. Grim Reaper to stir, a rolling flame in the pit of his loins. It's not bothersome yet...but, ]
...Weiss?
[ He's aroused. He asks her, a gentleness to her name, edged with curiosity as if to ask her why she stopped. As if the two were frozen in time, unable to take one step further across this bridge they're on, Ragna commits that glassy expression of hers to memory. So pale, yet pristine. So delicate looking that if he were any harder on her, she'd crack. The hand on the curve of her cute backside stills as well, until she finally speaks her mind— rather, speaks to him in a way that gets his breath to catch in his throat.
Audibly this time.
She asked if she could touch him. All he'd done was "take" with his power, whether he wanted to or not. And now that he didn't need to worry about it anymore...she made him actually forget. She made him forget he even lost an arm, holding him the way she did before. And she touches him without consequence— something that has him yelling inside his own head that for the first time, he can...! ]
Yes.
[ ...He can do the same. More than he already had been doing, anyway. To cradle her face, to taste more than just her lips as he pondered if the rest of her was just as soft to sweep with kisses, if it wasn't just her curvy little butt his hand had been groping earlier as he towers over her with his crimson and emerald hues roaming the front of her body. She has his permission. And she won't need to stop either.
But, ]
Can I touch you too? [ A heartbeat. Quickly, Weiss. Before he crushes his lips right back against yours. ] Touch you more?
no subject
Whoever was making his Ma Po Tofu must have skipped on the "spice" that would otherwise be laced through it. It'd be an easy enough excuse to have for the way Weiss was making him feel now. A stupid excuse. She won't have to know then. He doesn't need to tell her— that he already feels indebted to her. He'll silently do right by her later. Far later when he wasn't so busy being lost in her when she calls him out on that stupid line. ]
Sorry.
[ Simple. Meaningful. But not one riddled in guilt. If he's nervous, she quells the potential quakes that'd have come with her softer laugh. One that wasn't steeped with ill berate. If anything, she cements that he can be honest now. Eyes on her, hands on her; she's the only thing that matters right now as they let themselves float away from this elevator. From this hotel. Armed with only each others' names... If this was supposed to be a dream, then he'd dream it a thousand times over what normally haunts him. He'll take Weiss' teasing, keeling over laughing at her own dumb knee jokes, holding his hand and bringing more honesty to the surface when he tells her that she's a good "First". Ragna could write a book on how to eat his own words in record time, because this first kiss? He sure as hell wasn't going to forget it.
Was this a crush, like she remarked before cutting his words down with her lips against his?
No. But for a girl he only just met over an hour ago, she sure is making a damning case as to why Ragna should give her all the attention she could ask for. Match her fervour with everything she could ask for. She hasn't stopped him, nor has he stopped her when she'd feel the broadness of his pec, moving subtly in response to her soft and gentle caress. Ragna was impressive, hardly a lick of fat to be found on him from years of relentless training that shaped him into the tall, muscular and athletic warrior he was today. Most of his physical strength was his own, after all. So while he never thought that it'd be roamed or clutched like this, especially when Weiss looses a soft moan from his grope...
That releases something inside of him. Something locked away. That "mood" she was in? He was feeling it too, to the point where he almost doesn't register her hand gliding lower to try and untuck his shirt. Until the two finally break away, his chest rising and falling to repurchase air, and that glistening line of spit linking them thins before they can wet their lips and sweep it away. Weiss pushed another button. A good button this time. And though the two of them weren't slotted and grinding right now, she'd finally gotten Mr. Grim Reaper to stir, a rolling flame in the pit of his loins. It's not bothersome yet...but, ]
...Weiss?
[ He's aroused. He asks her, a gentleness to her name, edged with curiosity as if to ask her why she stopped. As if the two were frozen in time, unable to take one step further across this bridge they're on, Ragna commits that glassy expression of hers to memory. So pale, yet pristine. So delicate looking that if he were any harder on her, she'd crack. The hand on the curve of her cute backside stills as well, until she finally speaks her mind— rather, speaks to him in a way that gets his breath to catch in his throat.
Audibly this time.
She asked if she could touch him. All he'd done was "take" with his power, whether he wanted to or not. And now that he didn't need to worry about it anymore...she made him actually forget. She made him forget he even lost an arm, holding him the way she did before. And she touches him without consequence— something that has him yelling inside his own head that for the first time, he can...! ]
Yes.
[ ...He can do the same. More than he already had been doing, anyway. To cradle her face, to taste more than just her lips as he pondered if the rest of her was just as soft to sweep with kisses, if it wasn't just her curvy little butt his hand had been groping earlier as he towers over her with his crimson and emerald hues roaming the front of her body. She has his permission. And she won't need to stop either.
But, ]
Can I touch you too? [ A heartbeat. Quickly, Weiss. Before he crushes his lips right back against yours. ] Touch you more?