#to clarify i don’t imagine it actually hurts to touch. hes just like. emotionally sensitive about it

[giddlygoat]

i’ve seen people draw guck with a scar on his temple from the memory gun. i wanted to adopt that hc asap

[inspired-by-the-music]

Chapter 2: An Arrangement 

Ae-Young’s POV

Before I ever left for college, even before my brother, Heechul, enrolled in law school, Dad insisted upon having a weekly family dinner. Ever since Mom left— which happened almost before I could remember— Dad craved some kind of intimacy with us that he could barely fit into his busy work schedule. So it didn’t matter that I was physically, emotionally, spiritually exhausted from the journey home— I couldn’t skip dinner in favor of a nap. 

Heechul said unsympathetically, “You should have taken me up on my offer to drive you home after the graduation ceremony.”

I don’t know what prompted him to speak to me. One minute, I had been drifting to sleep upright in my chair and likely drooling onto the white lace placemat; the next, I had to react to my brother’s bug-eyed stare. 

“As if I’d even consider getting into a car with you after that drunken speech you gave at dinner.” I stretched as I talked. 

“Yah!” He kicked me under the table. “Don’t call my heartfelt congratulations drunken!” When I didn’t apologize, he added, “Besides, that night was the first time I drank in my whole life.”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t bite back laughter as he chugged a dark red wine he yanked out of Dad’s cooler shortly after arriving. “I see. So now you can’t imagine life without—”

He interrupted to complain. “Don’t you think Dad could be bothered to show up on time? He schedules these dinners, and he’s always the last one here.”

Yes— as fatigue washed over me, I wished Dad would hurry so I could faceplant into bed ASAP— but I didn’t like to complain about him. Heechul wouldn’t want to hear me explain what he already knew (that Dad likely got caught up in something important at the firm and was now probably stuck in downtown traffic) — so I decided to shrug and scroll through Instagram. 

Just as Heechul opened his mouth to tease me for being a Daddy’s Girl, Dad came through the front door. As he took his hat and coat off and walked them and his briefcase to his study, he called, “Sorry I’m late— I’ve told you two countless times the stresses of running the most successful Korean law firm— Don’t worry, I’ll just come to eat in my work clothes— Don’t want to keep you waiting any longer— Ae-Young—”

As he stepped into the dining room, I rose, assuming that he intended to greet me even though I saw him just a week ago for the graduation. He swiftly concluded, “Put your phone away— No electronics at the table.”

Ignoring Heechul’s giggles, which were drowned by another gulp of stolen wine, I tucked my phone into my pocket and promised, “I’m sorry, Dad.”

Heechul’s amusement at my scolding quickly lost to his all-consuming craving for attention. As Dad settled into the seat at the head of the mahogany table too large for three, Heechul said, “Don’t be too hard on our little graduate. She was just gonna perform a little welfare check on you— you know, to make sure you didn’t fall in the office like old folks sometimes do. We would’ve come to help if you couldn’t get up.”

Dad replied, eyes narrowing in either annoyance, fondness, or a combination of the two, “You joke about my age, Son, without realizing that as I mature, you do too. Or at least your body does.”

While I howled at dad’s implication that Heechul was man-child, while Heechul struggled to retort for the first time in his life, the chef Dad hired soon after Mom left wordlessly dropped off some kind of seafood. After piling some onto my plate, I picked at it curiously. I wasn’t picky; I was just the opposite, actually. I couldn’t recognize even my favorite dish to save my life, and I knew better than to ask the chef. He would mistake my innocent question for criticism. Whatever was on my plate, I decided, was delicious as soon as it touched my tongue. 

“Ae-Young,” Dad called. I looked at him and chewed my mouthful as fast as I could. “Why did you take so long to get home?”

I reddened at the reminder that I had graduated a week ago. I hadn’t been ready to abandon my independence. The day after the ceremony, I rejected separate offers from Dad and Heechul to be driven home and focused instead on promoting myself around town in the hope of scoring a job so I could afford an apartment in the city. Jobs for a recently graduated photography student were slimmer than I allowed myself to dream. 

It wasn’t the embarrassment of unemployment that struck me silent. Dad would be proud to hear how I tried, regardless of the results. He would never admit it, but learning that I didn’t want to come home would hurt his feelings. He was a strong man— tall and broad with a strong jaw and permanently arched eyebrows. I always imagined that the criminals he prosecuted trembled at his stern appearance before he ever got to use his sharpened wit against them. So why did I treat him so delicately, as if he would break from something I said? 

I had to say something, though. He was blinking at me expectantly. “I was busy, um, tying up loose ends.”

Kindly, as if merely interested in how I chose to spend my week, Dad asked, “What loose ends?”

Before I could answer that I had been helping my best friend, Key, move into a new apartment— which was a half-truth— Heechul answered, “Don’t you know, Dad? That’s a part of how young people talk today. It’s code.”

“Code?” Dad pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. Swallowing some of the fish, he looked and Heechul and questioned, “Code for what?”

I knew Heechul was just running his mouth and that it wouldn’t lead anywhere that interesting, but I cut my eyes at him and repeated, “Yeah. Code for what?”

“Obviously, Dad,” Heechul pointed at me as he accused, “Ae-Young was breaking off some university fling, but not after a few nights of passionate—”

I cut him off by flicking some of my fish— shrimp, maybe— at him and hissing, “Shut up! You’re so gross!”

Dad started with a tired, “Kids, please,” and he ended with an only slightly playful, “You better have broken up with your little fling, Ae-Young.”

Those days, I was too sensitive about my complete lack of romantic life. Defensively, I argued, “There was no fling, Heechul is just stupid. And if there was a fling, why should we have to break up just because I graduated?”

“Yeesh.” Heechul stabbed at his food, grumbling, “What a drama queen.”

Perhaps sensing that my temper was flaring, Dad said calmly, “Heechul— it’s about that time in the evening where I ask you to drink quietly while I discuss serious matters with your sister.”

I knew Heechul thought Dad liked me better. Even now that we were both adults— I was 22 and Heechul was 36— Dad couldn’t decide whether to treat us like the children he knew or adults we were. The inconsistency didn’t bother me so much because I loved Dad as the only parent I had ever really known. When Dad would dismiss Heechul’s silly comments, he would whisper something like, ‘Mom would never.’

He didn’t do that anymore. He took a long sip of his wine and avoided my gaze. 

“I’ve been thinking—” Dad said to me as I flinched out of my memories. “It’s about time you get married.”

Heechul spat out his wine in a spray across the table and spoke when I was speechless. “Well, that’s sudden. Don’t you think she’s too young for that? I mean, I’m not even married yet!” 

“We can’t expect Ae-Young to wait until miracles happen to get on with her life,” Dad responded, and Heechul shrank.

Heechul’s outburst empowered me to say, “Look, Dad, I’ll be on the prowl for a husband if it’s so important to you, but I’m a little more invested in finding a job—”

“You already have a job,” Dad replied simply. “Now that you’re home and Mrs. Choi retired, you can be my secretary.”

Before I could filter my response, I said, “No— I mean a real job.” Thankfully, he wasn’t offended; his brow furrowed in confusion, though, so I said, “I want a job as a photographer. I majored in photography, remember?”

“Yes, I remember.” He shifted slightly in his seat and straightened his tie. “I don’t know much about that field; the law firm has been in the family for generations, and nobody strayed until—” He subconsciously looked at Heechul, whose gaze hardened, but he clarified, “I don’t blame either of you for pursuing your dreams. Your happiness will always be my primary concern— and that goes for both of you.” 

He wasn’t satisfied to continue his speech until Heechul and I swore that we knew that. Then, he told me, “I know everything you dream of will come true. If it doesn’t, it won’t be for a lack of effort, and you’ll still have a family who will take care of you. But I won’t always be around to—”

I shook my head. It was impossible to imagine a world without Dad. Just the thought sickened me, so I begged, “Don’t talk like that.” 

He strictly maintained, “It’s the truth, Ae-Young. As your brother reminds me weekly, I’m not getting any younger—”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Heechul interjected, but Dad didn’t acknowledge him. 

“— And what will happen to you two? You can’t inherit the firm since you’re not lawyers. Then what about your children? What will their futures be?” He reached for my hand, but he was too far away as he swore, “I’m not just trying to marry you off to any person in search of a wife. And if my selection is too terrible, I’ll call the whole thing off.”

Simultaneously, Heechul and I shrieked, “You already chose someone?” and destroyed the diplomatic environment our father tried to create.

“Typical,” Heechul seethed and slammed his glass down. “If you were gonna set one of us up, why couldn’t it be me? I’m the firstborn, I haven’t had a girlfriend in, like, six months, my standards are a hell of a lot lower than Miss Graduate’s—”

“You went to undergraduate school too, you moron! We’ve received the same amount of education—”

“Children, please!” Dad never rose his voice, so Heechul and I instantly hushed. “If I knew anybody you liked, Heechul, you naturally would have been my choice for the arranged marriage. You are older and therefore may feel entitled to own the firm—”

Smirking, Heechul disagreed. “No, I just want a hot lawyer wife.”

Dad and I had learned a necessary skill: knowing when to go deaf to Heechul. He continued, “And I worried that at your age, you wouldn’t appreciate your father telling you what to do about something so. . . intimate.”

Heechul didn’t especially appreciate parental guidance at any age, so Dad was right to worry about that. How long has he been thinking about this? I frowned. And why is he only bringing up now? 

“So you chose a husband for Ae-Young just because she’s more obedient?”

Dad wouldn’t release me from his stare as he said, “I don’t take this lightly— asking you to abandon your freedom so I can breathe easy knowing that you will be taken care of when I’m gone. You’ve always been a free spirit. I could see you dancing barefoot in the garden from my study when you were just a little girl. Do you remember that?”

I remembered dancing in the garden, but I never knew he watched me. I nodded quietly. 

He said, “I’m not being completely selfish. I never would have brought his up if I didn’t know the perfect person to protect you—”

Heechul impatiently demanded, “Who is it?”

Dad answered, “Kyuhyun.”

I didn’t get to prepare myself— I didn’t even fully wrap my mind around Dad’s speech— I didn’t know what to say other than “Kyuhyun?”

Heechul relaxed in his seat as if he had been truly worried and the name of that family friend dispelled those worries. “That’s not so bad, Ae-Young. You’ve always liked him.”

My heart was beating me to death. I couldn’t hear as I countered, “I can’t marry Kyuhyun. I haven’t seen him in the last four years— and now our first conversation has to be about this? I can’t believe you asked him to marry me!”

“Now, isn’t four years a bit of a dramatization?” Dad shook his head, disbelieving. “You must have seen him at the Christmas parties!” “For some reason, Dad,” Heechul winked, “I think we should trust Ae-Young. She would remember the last time she saw Kyuhyun.”

My heart thundered at Heechul’s teasing. “Why would you ever ask him to marry me?” I asked again; I stood as if that would make the question impossible to ignore. 

I expected another speech about how Kyuhyun was the best lawyer at the firm, how he was unfailingly honest and morally upright in every sense, how he had always been a great young man, how he had the advantage of being the son of Dad’s lifelong best friend—

I expected to hear him sing Kyuhyun’s praises as he had done my entire life. Instead, he answered softly, “I know you loved him.”

My affection for Kyuhyun existed since the moment we met— which, I’ve been told, occurred a few days after I was first born— and it resided in the innermost part of my heart, in a place I hadn’t visited in years. To be taken there so forcibly and with no warning was overwhelming. Humiliating. I felt naked, exposed, and embarrassed that I was overreacting. 

Because my feet were frozen numb, I slid back into my chair and stared blankly at my half-cleared plate.

Dad’s shoulders fell, and Heechul didn’t say anything.

“I thought you would be happy with him. Did I misunderstand the time you cried to me after the New Years’ party?”

Dad was referring to something that happened when I was a teenager. I can’t remember exactly how old I was, but I have never forgotten the red-hot scalding shock when I found Kyuhyun’s longtime girlfriend kissing some stranger on the balcony. I never wanted to tell anyone what I had seen, but the words tumbled out of my mouth. 

“Well, that’s how these things go sometimes, I’m afraid,” he tried to teach me. He ran a thumb along his empty ring ringer the way he always did when he thought of Mom. “Passion drives people to do hurtful things. Even passionate love can leave scars.”

 I refused to accept it. “Nobody should hurt him like that. He deserves everything good in the world. And what do I do now? Do I have to tell him? Do I have to break his heart when that’s the last thing I want to do?”

“These things always come out in the end,” Dad claimed as he pulled me into his side. “The truth always comes to light, whether good or bad.”

I never told Heechul, and he seemed to know better than to ask. “No,” I admitted, “You didn’t misunderstand. But that was so long ago, Dad. Who knows what has changed?”

“Who knows?” Dad shrugged. Sagely, the thought aloud, “I think if you loved somebody once— and I mean true admiration, not childish infatuations— you will love them always.”

Then Heechul, who had been quiet for too long, asserted his presence once more. “Wait a minute. Isn’t Kyuhyun, like, way older than Ae-Young?”

Without thinking, I answered, “He’s 10 years my senior.”

“I don’t think that matters,” Dad said. Glancing at me, he added, “I understand that like most young women, you want a romance that makes you swoon, but there are many kinds of forever loves in this world. I want that happiness for you— none of the temporary pleasures and scars.”

Dad took advantage of mine and Heechul’s silence as we considered his wisdom to say, “I hope you both adjust to this idea by next Friday evening because Kyuhyun will be joining us for dinner.”

I decided immediately that I would have to reunite with Kyuhyun before then. Seeing him for the first time four years— as my fiancé— with Heechul and Dad as an audience sounded like a nightmare.

The only way I knew to contact him was to call his office on Monday morning. Of course, I was struck by the complete lack of professionalism on my part, but I didn’t actually regret dialing the number until his assistant answered. 

I forget his greeting. All I remember is the terror that seized my body when he asked, “May I receive your name and reason for calling Cho Kyuhyun’s office?”

I stuttered, “I— um— my name is Kim Ae-Young.” I knew he wouldn’t recognize me as the firm owner’s daughter. Even if he did, that wouldn’t explain why I was calling Kyuhyun’s office. There was no option except to breathe deeply and adapt to the situation. “I’m Kyuhyun’s fiancé, and I’m calling to discuss an, uh, urgent personal matter.”

There was a three-minute pause before he said, “Okay. I’ll connect you.”

[shiphitsthefan]

Hi! Just wanted to pop in and say hi and introduce myself. Obsessively stalk your blog (I LOVE your writing, btw) - I just recently began to consider myself ace/aro, and I was wondering if you could share a bit more about your experience? No pressure there, ofc, just wanted to give you a hug for all the hate you've been getting. :)

Hello! Welcome aboard, citizen. (And thank you so much–I’m glad my writing makes you happy!) And I’m absolutely okay with sharing my aro experience. I can’t remember if I’ve ever talked about it here or not.

For the vast majority of my life, I had no idea that there was even a word for how I felt. It never occurred to me that people didn’t feel the same way as I did when it came to love. I always heard that women and men married their best friend; since I grew up in an overwhelmingly straight community, once I started dating, I basically lost touch with all of my other friends. My real best friends. It sucked, but I thought that was how it was supposed to be.

The problem was that the people I loved most were other girls. (I thought I was a girl, too, and that, again, everyone felt the same way I did. Autism makes life very interesting.) Still, I wanted to get married–I was supposed to, after all–so I stayed focused on boys, though I did ask a girl to my junior prom, because I’d finally come out as bisexual.

People called me boy-crazy, and oversexed, and obsessive. In actuality, I was trying my best to fit into a worldview I didn’t understand. Being in love didn’t feel any more important than being a good friend; when exes got pissed off that I moved on so quickly, it hurt. I got so much shit dumped on me in high school. College was worse, though, for basically the same reasons.

I finally started realizing that something about my view of relationships was different in my sophomore/junior year of college. When I was distracting myself from being incapable of focusing on my work (undiagnosed autism, ahoy!) I would lurk on news-aggregate forums.

The rest of this is going under a cut because of sensitive subjects. Trigger warnings for child death, sexual coercion, and spousal abuse.

Someone on the forum posted an article about a husband, wife, and their toddler who were involved in a crash and wound up going over a bridge. The wife and child were knocked unconscious. It was impossible for the husband to save them both; he chose his wife. His reasoning was that he couldn’t live without her, and almost all of the commenters on both the article and the forum agreed that he made the right choice, as terrible as it was.

I was horrified, because it made no sense to me. A spouse or partner could be replaced, after all. A child couldn’t. That relationship, to me, was sacred. I couldn’t–and still can’t–imagine any love greater than that of a parent to their child.

The more I thought about it, the more sense all of my previous romantic relationships made. I considered marriage sacred, but I never thought that a partner was irreplaceable. I felt so heartless, because I wanted someone to spend my life with. But I knew, deep down, that I could never love a spouse the way they apparently deserved to be loved. The line between best friend and life partner was blurred for me; paternal love made perfect sense, but romantic love was suddenly more confusing than it had ever been before.

I thought maybe, once I found the right person, it would change. I started dating someone I’d always considered a great friend, a confidante that I’d had since high school. It never meant more than friendship to me–best friends, and I did love him, even though it wasn’t the “right” way.

Once we were engaged, however, it quickly became apparent that I was supposed to change the way I acted around him. Dividing time equally among friends suddenly wasn’t okay. He wanted me to depend on him, on his friendship, then berated me when I didn’t ask friends for help when I needed it. I was constantly confused and bewildered, anxious and scared. Soon enough, I was dependent on him, because he knew how love was supposed to work, or so I thought.

Deep down, I knew something wasn’t right. I married him, anyway.

The more emotionally abusive he became, the less sexually attracted to him I was, but he always made me feel horrible for not wanting to have sex, that I wasn’t taking care of his needs, that I didn’t really love him. And I knew my love wasn’t what it was supposed to be, so I always caved in, even when I didn’t want to. He decided we needed to have a baby, so. Well. He made sure that happened. I didn’t know what to do, because I knew that when I had that child, that my husband was going to immediately take second place in my heart, which is exactly what happened.

He became physically abusive then (though I suppose there’s an argument to be made for spousal rape also being physical abuse). I knew I deserved it, because I was failing him as a wife. (Never mind that, by this point, I’d realized I wasn’t a woman.) When he scared my baby one night, I knew we had to get out. Within a week, we’d escaped. I still haven’t gotten a divorce, but that’s definitely my intention.

So when people say that aromantics don’t experience discrimination, that they don’t suffer “enough” or even at all? I get really fucking pissed off. I tried so, so hard to make myself feel romantic love, and I was hurt irreparably in the process, exposing myself again and again to abusive people and situations, all in the name of trying to be normal. If that isn’t queer trauma, then I don’t fucking know what is.

Long story short, if you don’t feel a difference between friend love and lovefriend love, there’s nothing wrong with you. Not one goddamn thing. Your feelings are valid; your experience is valid; your journey is valid. You are queer, and don’t you dare let anyone tell you otherwise.

I still consider myself bisexual, because I still experience sexual attraction to more than one gender. (Not to all genders, which is why I’m not pan. Also because I’ve identified as bi for so long; I’m kind of fond of the label, not to mention attached.) However, I am celibate, both out of practicality and the metric fuckton of baggage that I bring with me into the bedroom. The asexual experience is never going to be one that I innately “get”, since celibacy and asexuality aren’t the same thing. I like to think that I understand it, though, or that I at least make a definitive effort.

Asexuals are exposed to the same kind of trauma as the rest of us queers. I’m not one to play oppression Olympics; it isn’t my job or business to assign one hurt as more important or greater than another. That being said, I 9000% believe that trans women get the worst kind of phobia and abuse. They’re exposed to the most adversity and danger and violence, especially trans women of color. It is our duty to protect and support trans women in all ways possible and by any means available. We must uplift their voices and make them feel accepted and safe within queer spaces.

But I think asexuals deserve protection, too, and acceptance, and understanding. I don’t think that should be a radical idea. It’s bullshit that people want to gatekeep–and yes, I am going to use the word gatekeep; it may not be the best term to explain community policing, but the concept and rationale behind it is similar. Asexual and aromantic persons are queer enough because they need to be, because they force themselves into the same kinds of molds and masks as other queer persons do to try and belong.

I’m tired of seeing y’all get shit when I understand how fucking hard it is out here, and it’s sickening that the only people who stand up for you are other acespec and arospec individuals. You matter, and I’m never going to stop saying that. You are here, you are queer, and folks need to get used to it.

Anyway. Even with all of the hate I’m getting (which doesn’t bother me, by the by), my inbox is always open to both identified asks and anons. If you need to vent or feel validated, and you don’t want to identify yourselves for painfully obvious reasons, I’ve got you covered.

This got really, really long. I hope it’s cool that I used your question to clarify my position. It was perfect impetus for me to do so. Again, thank you so much for your support. Feel free to keep lurking or to drop me a line any time. :D

[kinderwrath]

Ahoy! Here's Chapter 8-Natures Flame

I don't know if I dreamt while I slept. The only thing I could remember was hearing Nissa voice and calm stilling my thoughts. I didn't see the fires of Kaladesh or hear the battle The Gatewatch fought and I wasn't visited by the temptresses version of Nissa either. Just calm. When I woke she was there sitting next to me cross legged meditating, her hand resting on my hip. Outside the horizon was starting to lighten. How long had I slept? All afternoon and thought the night? Had Nissa been sitting like this the entire time? The calm, that explained it. She had been there wrapping me in her calm. I felt disquieted at the fact that Nissa sacrificed her sleep for me, although I appreciated it. She always seemed to know what I needed without me having to ask. I had seen Nissa meditate more times then I could count but it always amazed me how still she was. She looked like a porcelain and emerald statue, and even thought she looked so delicate I knew how strong she was. I admired her for that, somehow making it look effortless. Breathtaking really. In that moment I felt like my heart was wrapped in white hot flames, not from lust but the need for us to never be apart. I could see our life together laid out in front of me and there was nothing I wouldn't do to maker her happy. I felt tears prick the corners of my eyes and my mind and heart were engulfed with emotion. Like a switch her eyes opened falling on where her hand lay. "Chandra." She whispered my name almost a question on her lips. "I'm here, I'm sorry you didn't sleep..." "What were you doing just now?" She asked so urgently I thought she was angry. "I uh nothing, just watching you." I answered nervously. "I felt you." "I'm sorry what?" I asked trying to understand. "Your emotions. The raw heat of everything you were feeling. It was so overwhelming I couldn't hold onto my connection with nature." She said looking astonished. I really wasn't sure what to say. "Wow" It wasn't the most clever response but it was all I had just then. "Wow is right. Do you realize that would be like if I could extinguish your flames with a touch?" "Well you pretty much can. I haven't felt myself go all ragey at all when your with me. Even when Liliana was here, normally I would have turned this place to ash. And I was beyond angry, but the fire wasn't there."  "It's like we draw off each other's energy. I've never heard of this happening out side of two Jorgan before." She paused thinking. "Whatever our sparks are made of, yours and mine are the same." She looked both overwhelmed and awestruck. "I guess we will have to just wait to see if this helps or hurts us." I said with calm in my voice. "Aren't you worried at all?" She asked. "Nope. It will be ok as long as we are facing it together." I sat up and scooted closer to comfort her placing a kiss on her cheek. She smiled sweetly. "Your right, thank you." "You may not want to tell me I'm 'right' I might take advantage of that." I joked hoping to brighten the mood. It worked. "I will keep that in mind. How does your shoulder feel today? Did getting some rest help?" She asked "I does feel a little better yeah, thank you for that by the way. I think that was the best night sleep I have ever had. I don't think I even moved." I answered stretching the muscles in my back. "No you were pretty still the whole time." I raised a eyebrow. "I thought you were meditating. Or were you just ogling me all night?" I asked. "I may have done some ogling yes. How could you expect me not too? I love it when you wear these." Her elegant fingers played with the hem of the fabric of my too short shorts high up on my my thigh. She was sending little shivers through me, making it very hard to focus on anything else. "When have ever seen me in these? You never stay to watch me and Gideon spar, your always off doing something else." I asked in a effort to compose myself. "Yes I usually like to take that time to enjoy a bath at the stream. It's quite with no one else around." She slid one of her fingers under the edge of my shorts and saying the last part seductively drawing out the emphasis on being alone. I moved to grab her and kiss fiercely but she was up and out of my reach faster then I would have imagined. She smiled at me teasingly. "Damn elf! That was just wrong." I pouted and leaned back on the bed trying to cool off. "I'm sorry, don't pout." She climbed up and laid next to me on her side. If it helps I was only teasing you a little, I was being honest mostly." I opened one eye squinting at her. "What part was the teasing bit?" I asked. "That's not the only time I steal off alone." She answered. "And how is knowing 'that'! Suppose to help exactly?" She laughed hard at that. I couldn't help it her laugh was infectious and I joined her. Once we calmed down a bit I beamed at how much I loved the moments with her. A question pulled at me and I had to know the answer. "Not that I want to bring up old romances or anything but can I ask a question about her? Nis." It didn't seem to phase her at all. "Feel free, for you I'm a open book." She answered. "How was She even able to walk away from you? I mean even if it had only been a physical relationship, with how sensuous and seductive you are you must have drove her insane." I hoped I hadn't said anything to make her uncomfortable. Some times I really didn't have a filter. "It was and I was never like this with her." She said simply. "Umm ok, not that I'm interested in hearing about you being with someone else, but what do you mean?" She laughed understanding. "Things were always 'good' between us in that department but I was young and so guarded emotionally. By the time I had the courage to let he see that side of me she was gone. But with you I am completely incapable holding anything back. After this morning I understand why that is more. Our connection to each other is so strong on so many levels you would be able to feel if I did anyway." She clarified. "That actually makes a lot of sense.  Thank you for being open with me." I said content with her answer. "Well if we are asking questions I have one for you..." she asked sitting up. "Ask away." I said sitting up as well tucking one leg under me. "I wanted to ask yesterday but it really wasn't the right time." I nodded "I don't want to be to direct, but how do you keep every inch of you so smooth?" She asked, the tips of her ears going scarlet as she traced a small circle on my knee.  "It's part of being a Pyromancer." She looked at me confused. "I would be naked by the end of every fight if I wasn't." I said closing my eyes letting my hair slowly turn into tendrils of bright flame and then smolder back. When I opened my eyes Nissa was staring at me with a look of reverence and desire. "That is so unbelievably sexy." She rasped "I think I can control the energy that fuels it now." I said tentatively, willing a single flame from my index finger. She watched me eagerly as I reached out and traced her collar bone and dipping down pausing just above the swell of her breast. I let the flame go out then, waiting for her reaction. She let out a little whimper when the heat left her skin. "And that was just one finger?" She asked, I nodded. "Well I guess I won't be teasing you anymore, you have a unfair advantage." She laughed shakily. "Oh yes because you are so innocent aren't you?" "We could go round and round on who is better at that..." She said fidgeting anxiously. "But could you just be kissing me right now?" She sounded so vulnerable and eager I didn't even answer, I just pulled her to me my lips crashing into hers hungrily. I had wanted to be gentle and tender like she had been, but honestly 'gentle' isn't something I'm known for. This time I was setting the pace so I used what felt natural. It was raw, emotional and intense. She pulled herself closer until her slender legs were on either side of mine. I let my hands roam her back feeling the way her muscles flexed. I trailed them down low on her hips and lifted her slightly cupping her backside in my hands. Her hips rocked against me then in reaction to my touch. Instinct took over and in one fluid movement I turned us pressing her against the bed. I leaned my body into hers our hips touching, my weight fully against her. "Careful of your arm..." "Don't care." I muttered, lightly biting her lower lip. She shivered mumbling "Okay." I could worry about the pain later. The only thing I wanted to think about right now was how perfect Nissa felt against me. Her mouth was warm and tasted sweet, I couldn't get enough of it. My hand teased down her side and across her stomach. I broke the kiss then to look at her. Her creamy white skin was a stark contrast to the deep green soft leather half shirt she was wearing. Her back arched trying not to loose contact with me. Her breasts strained against the laces holding the shirt together giving me a small look at the valley between. This part I wanted to slow down for, I remembered the feeling of her from the other night, but now I wanted to see her too. She started to squirm a bit underneath me the not enjoying me making her wait. "Nissa? How fond are you of this top?" I asked, needing to feel her naked skin. "This? Hate it. Never liked it at all." She stammered pulling at the tie on the lace in front. With a quick movement I snaked my fingers underneath the bottom lace and snapped it effortlessly. "Your. Way. Much faster, damn your strong." She managed to say haltingly as she kissed at my neck. I pulled the rest of the lace free, her top falling open. She was truly exquisite and I lost myself starting at her for what must have been to long. "Do you like what you see?" Nissa asked seductively. My hand turned to fire as I cupped her breast and we both let out small moans in almost unison. My thumb grazed her sensitive pink peak as I massaged and she rocked hips against me again. This time she hooked her leg around my hip pulling me closer looking for friction. I could feel how turned on she was the way she was pressed against me, so very warm. She tilted her head to kiss me again and when our lips were almost touching I said "kissing your lips makes me wonder what the rest of you tastes like." After seeing the needy look in her eyes I began to trail open mouth kisses down her neck, over her collar bone to her breast wanting to feel that pink peak against my tongue. The closer I got the more frustrated noises Nissa made. Finally reaching my destination I swirled my tongue around it make her making her jerk. I let out a small laugh and my breath caught the moisture making her peak tighten more. I couldn't resist I captured it with my lips, pulling it into my mouth and flicking it with my tongue. Nissa said something in Jorgan that I'm sure was a curse word and tangled her fingers in my hair. "Don't stop doing that. Ever." She groaned. I had just opened my mouth to respond when there was a heavy knock on the door. "You have to be kidding me!" She whined her head dropping back in frustration. The knock came again. "Nissa? It's Gideon are you in there?" The flames from my hand extinguishing I untangled myself from Nissa reluctantly. "I hope you won't miss Gideon too much because I have to turn him into a ball of fire now." I heard Nissa mumble "Makes two of us." as I walked to the door. I pulled it open roughly. "What can I do for you Gids?" I huffed. "Just came to see how your healing and see if you and Nissa would like to join us for dinner at the inn tonight?" He asked cocking a eyebrow at my expression. "Nissa is taking great care of me, I'm actually bouncing back pretty quickly." I said rolling my shoulder carefully for emphasis. "As for dinner? We should be able to make it. Really have to see how the day goes... and all that." I said "Ok then. Chan you sure things are good? Jace said you and Nissa were acting a little off the other day." He asked trying to see around me inside. I moved trying to block his view, I wasn't sure if Nissa had covered herself and I was feeling protective. " Ya. No things are fine. She was just teaching me to meditate and stuff. " I hoped my answer would make him go away. He wasn't getting the picture. "Really thought I should get back to that. Before Nissa turns one of us into a tree or something. But tonight is a for sure maybe, ok? Ok bye Gids" I said closing the door in his confused face. "Well he's lucky I'm in a good mood." I said turning around crossing the room back to the bed. Nissa's face looked troubled and I hoped I hadn't made a mistake or been to eager. "Hey? You ok? If I did...." I stammered not sure what to say and feeling insecure. "Do you think Gideon would hate being a tree?" She asked looking up at me and then laughed at her own joke. I settled down heavily next to her on the bed. "Are 'you' ok baby?" She asked. "Ya. I'm mean besides Gids ruining the moment. I was more worried I was too pushy or all over the place. I just wanted you to enjoy it." I answered. "Oh I enjoyed it a lot, I'm sure you could tell. The Being interrupted part, that I hated. Let's skip that next time." She said taking my hand in hers. "So, you would like there to be a next time huh?" I asked teasingly. "There better be!" She squeaked and I laughed "If I didn't know better I would think you were lying about me being your first." I blushed. "I feel like a bumbling idiot. Promise me Nis, if I'm doing something your not okay with or don't like you will tell me. And like right then, not later. Promise?" I asked earnestly. "Yes I promise, you have to do the same though." She replied "Deal." I agreed. "I would love to pick back up where we stopped, but now I'm all worried someone else will come knocking. Gids looked pretty unconvinced everything was ok. Maybe we should actually go to the inn tonight, put peoples minds at ease." I said. "That's a good idea really. And for safety." She agreed. "Safety?" I asked. "Yes, because if that happens again I am going to turn them into a tree and you are going to burn said tree." She stated matter of factly. "Your wish is my command." I smiled.