[Hawke is taken by surprise when Ezio pulls her in for another kiss, further still at the passion and the care behind the press of his lips, the depth of the emotion she can only fathom. But it's enough to entice her further, and she puts an arm around him, the other hand going up to cradle his face, fingers sliding against the coarse hair on his cheek. It's been so long since she's tried to care for someone like this, to allow herself to love--
Is it love? Her head is spinning and her heart is tight; she can't think or parse out what this is. But she knows Ezio makes her happy, protects her, and cares for her. And that's enough.
His mouth is hot, goading her, and she gives him as good as she's gotten. She tries with desperation to let him know how much she cares, how much she wants him, how much she dearly wishes to prove his worth to her. He is her air right then, the heat against her chest, the guard against her back. She can't get enough.
She breaks from this kiss only briefly to breathe, their noses centimeters apart. Her smile is obvious against his lips.]
Ezio.
[There is nothing short of admiration and desire in her tone, a fire sparked that cannot be put out.]
[Holding him that close to her is an automatic tease, and when she smiles, so does he. His is more playful, however, a spark lit in him that crawls from the pit of his stomach upwards, teasing him of what is to come. He leans forward and kisses her again, hands moving from her back to her hips and a growl emitting from the back of his throat, one that speaks of desire and approval and want, far more than he expects of himself.
Hawke is his rock at this moment, someone who is steady and can keep him grounded when things begin to fall apart. She is his desire, his flame, the thing he needs and craves more than anything else in the world right now. She is beautiful, perfect in everything she does, flaws and all, and she, in this moment, is his. His mouth leaves hers then, trails along her jaw in kisses, buries his face in the crook of her neck and breathes gently, mouth hovering by her ear.]
Tu sei bella, Hawke.
["You're beautiful."
It is quiet, spoken for her and her alone, in the confines of their hallway- which, thinking about it now, is probably not the best place to continue this activity- but it is simple and intimate and an admittance of who he is, and what he sees. He softly kisses her again, starting at the top of her neck and going as far as he can without her collar interfering.
They are on dangerous grounds, a moment where it is being pushed further and further into territory where they can't go back. For once, in this place, Ezio doesn't seem to mind.]
[It's been so long since someone's touched her, since she's allowed someone to be this close. It's both frightening and exhilarating, a tremble sliding up her spine, but she stays close and enjoys the feeling of warm hands on her hips, lips against her throat, and a deep voice by her ear. She exhales, the sound coupled with her voice, and her hands grip his shoulders tightly for a moment.
She needs some grounding before she drowns in sensations.]
Marian.
[She says it so abruptly that she has to clear her throat and try again, pulling away briefly so she can look him in the eye.]
My name is Marian.
[It's been years since she's given her first name away so freely. No one has called her that since her mother died. The privilege is a high one, trust given freely, and it forces her to swallow in some discomfort. She's given a part of herself to him now and she can't deny it, no matter how she may wish to at a later date.
Instead of lapsing into silence and uncertainty, Hawke takes his hand instead. Her smile is small but confident.]
Maybe we should take this elsewhere. My room, perhaps?
[Where he can continue to speak lowly to her, to touch her, to kiss her. And she can reciprocate openly.]
[When she pulls away he thinks he's done something wrong, worries that he has pushed too far, until she speaks, and he hears her name. Marian. It surprises him a little, to know that she does have a first name- and of course she does, but he has gotten so used to calling her by her last, he never thought to call her anything more than that. It is a sign of utmost trust, a moment in which he realizes that for them, this is a turning point. A moment in time where they cannot go back, cannot be the same people that left the ship and went home, thinking they would never see each other again.
His eyes darken in intrigue as she continues, the suggestion of moving to her quarters perhaps something he takes a small pleasure in, and he squeezes her hand gently, smile on his face.]
Lead the way, Marian.
[There is a desire that has been there from when they first touched, or perhaps even before that. He doesn't know. What he does know is that in this moment and the ones proceeding now, he will gladly take her as she is. Faults, flaws, imprefections and all. For that is what makes her beautiful.]
[Hawke nods, a single gesture in the middle of so much emotion and fire, and she guides him to the adjoining door that leads to the three separate dorm rooms, and then again past there to her own room. The doors are all closed behind her, her own locked once he is inside, to ensure that they have some privacy, no matter where this may lead.
Her first inclination is to be skittish and uncertain, afraid that if they push too far now that they'll never be able to go back and fix things again. Repairing a bridge is one thing; this is going further than she's thought to go with anyone in years. But something seems right about this, a feeling she can't put her finger on.
She'll just have to trust her instincts.
Rather than give him a moment to question if she is all right or to believe she is having second thoughts, no matter where she's taken them, Hawke steps right back in to kiss Ezio again, the gesture immediately heated and wanting, one hand cradling his jaw and the other in his hair, fingers in the strands of his ponytail. Hawke is bold when there's something she wants.
[He follows her easily, into the main room and then into her own, noting the locked door and how this has become something far more than he ever expected of her. His hood is pulled down and he can feel her hands run through the bottom of his hair, hand to his face, taking delight as she pushes back into him, her mouth to his. His hands travel all over her as they kiss, hot, wanting, needing for so much more than what they are, of what they have been. It is a dance, a whirlwind of lips and teeth and tongue, caught in the fires of desire and the simultaneous beating of hearts as a symphony, a cascade of unending sound.
It's enough for him to feel the ache that suddenly makes itself known below his gut, reminds him that while Hawke can be bold, he can be downright dangerous. The seconds pass and a low rumble rises from his chest, one that promises to devour, consume, destroy everything that Hawke is and make her whole at the same time. He is like a great and terrible storm, crashing into the tide at full force, decimating everything in his wake and creating new life as he leaves.
And so, in one swift movement, his arms change their position to her back and below that and he lifts her up off the floor, cradling her as he carries her right to the bed. He is forward in his intentions, not to mention impatient as he puts her back down, letting out a growl as he greedily buries his face in her neck again, mouth pushing past the collar of her jerkin and teeth beginning to nip along her neck. His hands are just as eager, palms tracing down her front and to her belt, fingers drifting over the buckles and trying to find just where exactly he has to pull to get them undone. He wants her and he wants her out of her clothes, Zelien or the Charon or the island be damned, they have gone through too much together to be denied this now.]
[Dangerous is something she's never attributed to Ezio. Dangerous is the sort of word she'd use for killers, for those who would hurt the people she loves. She would throw the word around to people who harm and steal and hate, for those who destroy others without a second thought. But when he picks her up and settles her on the bed, climbs onto it after her and begins to tug at her clothes, she realizes that it's a word that's all too apt for Ezio, who burns and claws, and who will not be satisfied with a kiss and turn.
And that's exactly how she wants him.
Her smile is there, against his forehead as his face buries itself in her throat, and her hands slip down to coax his along the clasps and latches of her jerkin. She helps him with the belt, shedding the first layer of her clothes like a second skin, and moving her body back so she can lead him further onto the bed, where they can stretch out and fumble better, all kisses and heat and erratic breathing.
She's already reaching for the sash at his waist and the catches of his robe, seeking more, craving it. As an act of good faith, she only undoes half of his tunic before she's reaching for the ties of her own, the buttons too tedious for her growing impatience.]
[The pace at which they're moving is fast, heated, barreling full speed towards an end they both know and are eager for at this point. When her hands touch his and guide him on how to undo her belt, he feels a spark of energy shoot down his spine, heart pounding in his ears as he moves right with her further onto the bed. It is a tangle of limbs and clothing, a frantic mess of lust and craving, and one that only grows as time pushes forward.
But there is something of a chuckle when Hawke grows with impatience in trying to get herself out of her clothes, Ezio finding it a little ironic compared to his own demeanor towards her. He knows she's already started on his robes, and so he makes it easy for her as she fusses with hers- he pulls away just a little, and with one hand trailing down her side and caressing her hip he undoes the belts with the insignia, allowing the sash to unravel with ease. It lands with a soft clunk on the floor as he tosses both aside, closing the distance between him and her again, mouth to hers in another long heated kiss. With her now occupied, the same hand and arm that got rid of his sash now slips right out of his robes, leaving him half exposed, almost like a tease. He switches sides after that, lowering that same hand to touch Hawke while the other proceeds to remove itself and help him get out of the remaining heap on his shoulder. When that is done, he throws that to the floor as well, leaving his torso bare and open for her to explore, just as he explores her. There are scars there, ones that tell stories, of trials, and of heartache, but all that is buried now in favor of helping the woman underneath him wrestle out of her clothes and triumphing over the obstacles that presents.]
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no subject
Is it love? Her head is spinning and her heart is tight; she can't think or parse out what this is. But she knows Ezio makes her happy, protects her, and cares for her. And that's enough.
His mouth is hot, goading her, and she gives him as good as she's gotten. She tries with desperation to let him know how much she cares, how much she wants him, how much she dearly wishes to prove his worth to her. He is her air right then, the heat against her chest, the guard against her back. She can't get enough.
She breaks from this kiss only briefly to breathe, their noses centimeters apart. Her smile is obvious against his lips.]
Ezio.
[There is nothing short of admiration and desire in her tone, a fire sparked that cannot be put out.]
no subject
Hawke is his rock at this moment, someone who is steady and can keep him grounded when things begin to fall apart. She is his desire, his flame, the thing he needs and craves more than anything else in the world right now. She is beautiful, perfect in everything she does, flaws and all, and she, in this moment, is his. His mouth leaves hers then, trails along her jaw in kisses, buries his face in the crook of her neck and breathes gently, mouth hovering by her ear.]
Tu sei bella, Hawke.
["You're beautiful."
It is quiet, spoken for her and her alone, in the confines of their hallway- which, thinking about it now, is probably not the best place to continue this activity- but it is simple and intimate and an admittance of who he is, and what he sees. He softly kisses her again, starting at the top of her neck and going as far as he can without her collar interfering.
They are on dangerous grounds, a moment where it is being pushed further and further into territory where they can't go back. For once, in this place, Ezio doesn't seem to mind.]
no subject
She needs some grounding before she drowns in sensations.]
Marian.
[She says it so abruptly that she has to clear her throat and try again, pulling away briefly so she can look him in the eye.]
My name is Marian.
[It's been years since she's given her first name away so freely. No one has called her that since her mother died. The privilege is a high one, trust given freely, and it forces her to swallow in some discomfort. She's given a part of herself to him now and she can't deny it, no matter how she may wish to at a later date.
Instead of lapsing into silence and uncertainty, Hawke takes his hand instead. Her smile is small but confident.]
Maybe we should take this elsewhere. My room, perhaps?
[Where he can continue to speak lowly to her, to touch her, to kiss her. And she can reciprocate openly.]
no subject
His eyes darken in intrigue as she continues, the suggestion of moving to her quarters perhaps something he takes a small pleasure in, and he squeezes her hand gently, smile on his face.]
Lead the way, Marian.
[There is a desire that has been there from when they first touched, or perhaps even before that. He doesn't know. What he does know is that in this moment and the ones proceeding now, he will gladly take her as she is. Faults, flaws, imprefections and all. For that is what makes her beautiful.]
no subject
Her first inclination is to be skittish and uncertain, afraid that if they push too far now that they'll never be able to go back and fix things again. Repairing a bridge is one thing; this is going further than she's thought to go with anyone in years. But something seems right about this, a feeling she can't put her finger on.
She'll just have to trust her instincts.
Rather than give him a moment to question if she is all right or to believe she is having second thoughts, no matter where she's taken them, Hawke steps right back in to kiss Ezio again, the gesture immediately heated and wanting, one hand cradling his jaw and the other in his hair, fingers in the strands of his ponytail. Hawke is bold when there's something she wants.
And tonight, that's him.]
no subject
It's enough for him to feel the ache that suddenly makes itself known below his gut, reminds him that while Hawke can be bold, he can be downright dangerous. The seconds pass and a low rumble rises from his chest, one that promises to devour, consume, destroy everything that Hawke is and make her whole at the same time. He is like a great and terrible storm, crashing into the tide at full force, decimating everything in his wake and creating new life as he leaves.
And so, in one swift movement, his arms change their position to her back and below that and he lifts her up off the floor, cradling her as he carries her right to the bed. He is forward in his intentions, not to mention impatient as he puts her back down, letting out a growl as he greedily buries his face in her neck again, mouth pushing past the collar of her jerkin and teeth beginning to nip along her neck. His hands are just as eager, palms tracing down her front and to her belt, fingers drifting over the buckles and trying to find just where exactly he has to pull to get them undone. He wants her and he wants her out of her clothes, Zelien or the Charon or the island be damned, they have gone through too much together to be denied this now.]
no subject
And that's exactly how she wants him.
Her smile is there, against his forehead as his face buries itself in her throat, and her hands slip down to coax his along the clasps and latches of her jerkin. She helps him with the belt, shedding the first layer of her clothes like a second skin, and moving her body back so she can lead him further onto the bed, where they can stretch out and fumble better, all kisses and heat and erratic breathing.
She's already reaching for the sash at his waist and the catches of his robe, seeking more, craving it. As an act of good faith, she only undoes half of his tunic before she's reaching for the ties of her own, the buttons too tedious for her growing impatience.]
no subject
But there is something of a chuckle when Hawke grows with impatience in trying to get herself out of her clothes, Ezio finding it a little ironic compared to his own demeanor towards her. He knows she's already started on his robes, and so he makes it easy for her as she fusses with hers- he pulls away just a little, and with one hand trailing down her side and caressing her hip he undoes the belts with the insignia, allowing the sash to unravel with ease. It lands with a soft clunk on the floor as he tosses both aside, closing the distance between him and her again, mouth to hers in another long heated kiss. With her now occupied, the same hand and arm that got rid of his sash now slips right out of his robes, leaving him half exposed, almost like a tease. He switches sides after that, lowering that same hand to touch Hawke while the other proceeds to remove itself and help him get out of the remaining heap on his shoulder. When that is done, he throws that to the floor as well, leaving his torso bare and open for her to explore, just as he explores her. There are scars there, ones that tell stories, of trials, and of heartache, but all that is buried now in favor of helping the woman underneath him wrestle out of her clothes and triumphing over the obstacles that presents.]