- Invitation Status
- Not accepting invites at this time
- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per day
- One post per day
- Multiple posts per week
- 1-3 posts per week
- Online Availability
- I have Thursdays off between two jobs. I am usually available on Wednesdays and Sundays, too. I will usually respond in the evenings, if I can, on the days I work.
- Writing Levels
- Adept
- Advanced
- Prestige
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Female
- Primarily Prefer Male
- Genres
- Fantasy, Romance, Medieval, Futuristic, Apocalyptic, Sci-Fi, Modern, Action, Adventure, some High-Fantasy, Lord of the Rings, Pacific Rim, King Arthur, anything Game of Thrones-esque
She feels her face warm as his finger trails over her skin, but Ana doesn't move and she doesn't stop him. She'd like to say she's used to such gestures by him now, that she understands them, but the truth is she doesn't. She doesn't know why he does them when they are clearly not gestures of friendship and they are not in front of an audience, and her body reacts every single time. Sometimes it is in a strong reaction that leaves her reeling - not a bad way, but still - and other times its subtle. Like now. She could still feel the lingering affect of his touch long after he'd gotten off the bed and Ana is calmed by it, a warmth blossoming in her middle that is...nice.
It reminds her of fire and well, she loves fire. Especially Oran's fire, though, she will not tell him that.
At his call, she scrambles out of bed, less than graceful as she tumbles to the floor, but making up for it as she rolls to her feet and grins sheepishly, coming out with him onto the balcony. The waves enchant her instantly and Ana grips the rail as she rests against it, smelling deeply the salt air as it comes to play with her hair again, messing up any progress Oran might have made with the fiery mane a minute ago. She looks at her husband with a wide smile and laughs as her stomach growls nearly as loudly as his had done before they'd gotten here.
"I think that might be wise else I might turn into the dragon that purple Tellian thought I was and eat you."
She chuckles at the thought, moving back inside, her fingers working to unbraid her hair and let it tumble in waves down her back. Her tail caresses Azule where he has fallen asleep on the floor, at the foot of the bed and Ana stops briefly in front of a mirror hanging on the wall, tilting her head as if she can't even really recognize the woman staring back at her. She feels this way all the time and dismisses it, turning to look over her shoulder at Oran as her fingers trail over the decorative shells worked into the wood of a dresser.
"Oran...why don't you like the ocean?" She had told herself she wouldn't ask and if he reacted negatively, she would leave it be, but her curiosity had gotten the better of her this time.
It reminds her of fire and well, she loves fire. Especially Oran's fire, though, she will not tell him that.
At his call, she scrambles out of bed, less than graceful as she tumbles to the floor, but making up for it as she rolls to her feet and grins sheepishly, coming out with him onto the balcony. The waves enchant her instantly and Ana grips the rail as she rests against it, smelling deeply the salt air as it comes to play with her hair again, messing up any progress Oran might have made with the fiery mane a minute ago. She looks at her husband with a wide smile and laughs as her stomach growls nearly as loudly as his had done before they'd gotten here.
"I think that might be wise else I might turn into the dragon that purple Tellian thought I was and eat you."
She chuckles at the thought, moving back inside, her fingers working to unbraid her hair and let it tumble in waves down her back. Her tail caresses Azule where he has fallen asleep on the floor, at the foot of the bed and Ana stops briefly in front of a mirror hanging on the wall, tilting her head as if she can't even really recognize the woman staring back at her. She feels this way all the time and dismisses it, turning to look over her shoulder at Oran as her fingers trail over the decorative shells worked into the wood of a dresser.
"Oran...why don't you like the ocean?" She had told herself she wouldn't ask and if he reacted negatively, she would leave it be, but her curiosity had gotten the better of her this time.