[Reminder: This story contains explicit sensual content, violence, mature themes, and references to trauma/abuse. Reader discretion is advised.]
Salīa's head ached at the thought of having to recollect everything she absorbed. It was all so stimulating to each part of her senses.
Even though she cleansed and relieved herself before coming up to the room, there was a strange sensation that stayed, that she wasn't quite sure what to make of.
"Yes, but I'm too tired to talk about it. What about you on your journey?"
Bazil sighed, rubbing his head.
"Yes, but I'm too tired to talk about it."
Both stayed awake, with many thoughts still swirling through their head, but neither was willing to share just yet.
As if to keep some distance as a sign of decency, Bazil sat by the dwindling fire he'd made and took to reading a book.
Salīa instead opened the book that Salazā had filled. It had been her first time glancing at it, but the thought of reading it at this moment had her groaning.
She instead flipped all the way to the back and pulled out some graphite while eyeing the small Prophet painting beside it.
Each time she looked at it, she found a word to write in the book. Soon, without realizing, she began singing those exact words.
"If I ever chose another but you, wound me so deeply that I'm cast into the next lifetime.
Then scatter many trials so that I may pass through its gates, only by shedding all my sins and shearing my ego.
For I will seek you, but I do not deserve to find you unless you let me."
Each word was given its own tune, whether closely bundled or spread out. Life breathed into each line, repeatedly.
Once the peak had been reached and simmered, she found Bazil was now sitting across from her, his gaze no longer averted.
"I love when you sing," he dared to touch her hand. "Sing for me again."
Salīa flushed at the spark in his eyes.
She wasn't sure if it was admiration or hunger, but his stare sharpened. Her skin heated at the warmth of his essence.
Having been surrounded by such suggestive performances and vibrant beauties, it seemed something sparked within her, too.
It definitely didn't help that she was now alone in bed with someone who she'd been having curious thoughts about lately.
Bazil's lips moistened, and he licked them quickly, wary of exposing his own curious thoughts. Both quickly said, "We should sleep."
Having agreed, Bazil laid his coat on the floor and rolled his bag up as a pillow, only to have Salīa shaking her head. Instead of wasting words, she yanked him onto the bed.
Before he could protest, she pressed her head to his chest. His heart beat as fast as her own. So, all there was to do was wait until both calmed.
She pulled the shriveled thread blanket over them.
A giggle escaped her when she realized his feet were still poking out. And once she threw the blanket far enough to cover them, his shoulders were left bare.
I guess he's always been quite tall, but he'd always sit or bend to talk with me, so I'd never have to strain myself. Yet I wonder if such an act has been straining him?
As the thought dawned on her, she kissed his cheek. He froze, uncertain of what to do. Wanting to balance it, she then kissed the other cheek. Still, Bazil said nothing.
She felt the heat of his face travel down, causing her to hug him even more.
Salīa was not one to freely share the bed, but he was worth cozying with. Yet it didn't help that more devious thoughts were starting to flow.
Without him scolding her, she let that indomitable spirit of hers lead the way. Her lips found their way to the side of his jaw.
He gulped, but stayed still, his breathing rising again.
Next, she kissed near the nape of his neck, feeling him soften into the bed. In moments, her mouth had trailed all over his neck and collarbones, peppering kisses right up to his ear.
His breath hitched as she reached a particularly sensitive spot just behind.
Part of her got bolder as she tended to his forehead, nose, and cheeks. Lower and lower and lower. A breath from his wet lips, she leaned in.
Her jaw was locked in his grip as she hovered above him, close enough that their lips could brush, yet he used all his might to never let it.
His face had a light sheen of sweat, his eyes hardened, and his arm was trembling as he tried to find all his resolve to hold her.
Some of that resolve had faded as a hardened part of him rose between his thighs.
Having forgotten shame, she let her body become heavy, willing to sink onto him.
"Līa!" he yelled, having flipped her back onto the bed, his other hand still gripping her jaw.
She glanced up at him, her eyes glazed and twinkling, her expression inscrutable. He stared hard, fighting colliding thoughts.
After heaving heavily, Bazil rolled to the far side, facing away. She knew if she tried her luck again, he'd get up, so she remained still.
The Protector is known for their erotic prowess? Yeah, right. An earthworm has a better chance of seducing him than I do.
"Sleep well," he said softly, his breath still shaky.
"You too, Bazil."
Her lids got heavier and heavier. But just before her eyes closed, she could've sworn she heard him whisper, "I'm sorry, Līa."
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