lazy afternoon

Their uniform's lay piled on a heap on the floor. There are two badges shining, sparkling atop the lamp table.
She doesn't talk to him much, and that makes him—somewhat, sad. A despairing kind of sad, because she's missing the woman??s fire and angry stare; he misses the way she attempts to land a blow to his face, using those skills he's been trained in the academy to unarm his opponent. It saddens him—this, and instead, he takes the young woman??s hand, shaking now with a kind of need, as if he??ll burst without the drug administered to his veins. He??ll lean down and tell her lady it??ll be over soon, and he's met with a faint recognition of the girl he once knew—where there was flash and lightning beneath her curled up growl. she is, for once, torn between pity and control. Where the latter takes over and he tries to maintain his dignity, without shoving himself upon her. She can take it, he knows, but holds himself back.

Slow at first, the strokes are steady, methodical, until the rising need makes him shudder faster,
He steadies himself for a bit, giving one last thrust, and pulls out silently, rolling over. she is still when he finds a moment to breathe. He just wants to rest, for the first time in a long time. She is beside him, her strong presence, gives him this deep pleasure. He hears her low sweet voice, then a steady, deep breathing that slowly dissipates into a soft, whimper of a noise.

It's hot here, and he's had the fan turned on in the other room, but this is good. Soon, there's the idea to consider, that he??ll someday give her back what she wants, to see the fire and anger blazing in those blue glassy eyes. For now, he wants to try another alternative. He likes it when She wraps his mouth around him, but for another time, soon. He just wants to hold her.