There was a fleeting moment of tension in her stance, almost akin to a consciously restrained defensive reaction as his touch made contact. Her eyes narrowed slightly - Sirius is full of tales of what happened to overly curious strangers when they touched an Outcast in ways and places they did not enjoy. While her physical features might appear almost human-like on the surface, her Maltese heritage was unmistakably evident, particularly in the resistance her stronger facial muscles offered against his fingers. And even her supple, youthful skin, although meticulously cared for with a delicate lotion to counteract the strains of dwelling far from her homeworld, carried subtle distinctions.
"I am well aware that I have posed this question previously, Damien, yet it serves its intended purpose nonetheless."
Her demeanor maintained its poised politeness, the small hint of amusement resting comfortably behind her mask.
"The path before me gleams with promise. I envisage myself as a matriarch of my own piece of paradise, to raise my own children and guide their growth as diligently as possible. Yet, above all..."
Once again, she let her words linger in the air, punctuating the sentence with a momentary lapse into contemplative quiet. This deliberate cadence in her speech was likely a familiar trait for him. Her smile grew more pronounced, relishing these fleeting instants of tension that danced between them.
"But beyond all else, my intention is to relish and traverse the vast expanse of Sirius, to wander across numerous hospitable planets and navigate the chinks in their security. Life is far too expansive to be mundane."
His hand stayed in place, as if inviting or perhaps provoking some kind of a reaction which had yet to arrive. He was by all means smart enough to know that doing it was a risk, but apparently he didn't seem to care. "Somehow you've mastered the art of making something as humble as motherhood or travelling sound pretentious. And oddly enough, that's a trait your kin and these.. people have in common." He wasn't down and out yet, even if she'd put herself in the lead and hit him where his political sensibilities were.
After all, it was in his nature to intensify efforts the more outmatched his position seemed to be. And that much was certainly "Xeno" of him.
"Even the most ordinary, mundane and seemingly boring matters can be executed with dedication, refinement and attention to detail, can they not?"
Once again, her voice played like a mellifluous instrument, the subtle cadence of each word laced with a deep tone. Her left hand fingers remained intertwined with his, a tactile link woven between them. Leaning gently into the backdrop of the wall, adorned with panels of exotic wood, she executed a delicate maneuver to draw him nearer. It was a gesture executed as a mere suggestion, requiring no overt force.
Her right hand, encased in a silk glove of black and gold opulence, extended toward his cheek. With a calculated care, mindful of the ornate claw gracing her middle finger to prevent any inadvertent scratch, she caressed his skin. Even as her eyes held a soft squint, her touch bore another layer.
Beyond the tangible connection, something more insidious unfolded. Just as her distinctive composure had a way of permeating previous encounters, a different facet now sought ingress into his thoughts. Emotions, to be precise. Amusement rippled through, mingling seamlessly with an aura of detachment toward others. Yet, it was the subtle undercurrent, shrouded and elusive, that spoke of something hidden for now.
He said nothing, because he could say nothing, not while reeling from a sudden onset of discomfort from this trespass. While the sense of detachment towards the other occupants of the room felt so mutual that it was immediately accepted as something from within, the rest was certainly felt foreign. Amusement, at least in the form he was currently feeling it, wasn't of the same depth as this. It was an experience best equated to eating familiar food, but with a vastly different recipe behind the preparation of it.
The inability to make sense of this prompted confusion both as to the source of what felt like some kind of invasive presence, as well as uncertainty over how to react. But rather than back away or be distressed, determination surged above these encumbrances, and he moved forward as suggested. This shift brought them into more intimate contact, and to any onlooker, not that there would really be any in a den of vice like this, they would seem like a couple indulging each other.
Remaining this close was effectively a declaration of intent unto itself, with the ultimate discretion of what to do next being hers.
She leaned her head against the wall, her sapphire-blue eyes squinting with piercing intensity, fixed unwaveringly on him. There was a certain relaxed elegance about her, akin to a feline toying with its captured prey. Her demeanor exuded a calm confidence, as if she were fully aware of the effect she had on him and the intricate dance of emotions her psionic abilities were weaving within him.
As he drew closer to her, the sensations intensified, saturating his senses like the lingering notes of a haunting melody. The world around them seemed to recede, the ambient sounds and surroundings fading into insignificance. The resonance of his own emotions dimmed as her aura enveloped him, casting a captivating spell that left him entranced.
Closing his eyes briefly, he could still sense her presence, her intense gaze leaving an indelible imprint on his consciousness. The boundary between reality and perception blurred as he grappled with the enigmatic question: Was she truly delving into his mind or was this an intricate play of sensory manipulation? In that moment, it felt as if her essence had interwoven with his own, eclipsing the outside world and its concerns.
A wry smile played on her lips, a subtle amusement flickering in her gaze.
"Confusion suits you, Damien, as does a touch of apprehension. It is a novel experience for someone of your mettle."
Her soft words reached his ears, a whisper carried by the air laden with intrigue. Her fingers, adorned in ornate gloves, gently traced the contours of his face that emerged from beneath his mask. The touch was almost affectionate, leaving a trail of tantalizing warmth in its wake.
She spoke softly, her voice carrying a melodious cadence that resonated with an enigmatic allure. Her presence, her words, and the currents of emotions she wove seemed to paint a world where vulnerability was both alluring and disconcerting, a realm where the boundaries of control blurred and the unexpected reigned.
Impulsively, and without thinking whatsoever, his hands rose and were placed atop her own, forbidding any intention she might have had to withdraw them. It was a compliment to be sure, but it betrayed the exact level of appreciation he currently had, and that frustrated him if only slightly. Seeking to recover control over the situation, he tried to fall back on quick wit. "If you like how I am now so much, then maybe you should put me in this situation more often." Unsurprisingly, he found that this didn't help and that the feeling hadn't gone away, or even lessened, it had instead become far more pronounced.
Feeling more than a little overwhelmed, he swallowed nervously, perhaps for the first time in his life. He was sure what he felt needed to happen next was a terrible idea, but quickly brushed it aside along the pang of shame that tried to fester and take root. Battling some hesitation initially, he leaned in and eliminated what little space remained, confirming that to some extent this charade had indeed died or simply spilled over into genuine attraction.
As their lips united in an intimate embrace, her eyes fluttered shut, and her head tilted slightly to create a subtle angle of connection. The intimate act was infused with an undeniable sense of control on her part, shaping the rhythm and boundaries of this tender communion. Their kiss conveyed a delicate promise, a sensuous suggestion of deeper connections beyond the shared schemes of their criminal endeavors.
Amidst her composed exterior, potent emotions emanated from her, infiltrating his own consciousness. A fleeting pause was detectable just before their lips made contact, a momentary uncertainty that dissolved almost instantly, giving way to an affirmative sentiment.
Within that fleeting second, he seemed different. He experienced a shift, a transformation. He was in the same scenario, kissing the same woman - or was he? She felt closer, softer, her eyes less piercing, her features gently contoured. Love flowed between them - a fusion of souls bound in two bodies. The air bore a crisp chill, typical of early mornings, with the sun dawning over the golden-orange flora and the lush green of alien foliage. The specifics of the scenery mattered less than the sensations, the emotions.
Same place, same woman, altered man? An alternate world. A distant era. Was it fact or mere semblance? The surroundings held no importance; solely this present instant held significance. Or did it? Did emotions create imagery, or was it the other way around?
A surge of vulnerability pierced his being, akin to a dark lance. Grief, loss, and a profound emptiness enveloped him. He grappled with an abyss within himself as the dark fabric covered his entire being.
The cascade of thoughts dissolved as her free hand gently pressed against his neck. Her face retreated marginally, and for an ephemeral second - a fleeting blink - he swore he saw a glossiness, a hint of moisture, in her eyes. From her expression, it seemed an unexpected, unanticipated response. Despite the static tranquility of her countenance, the stirring undercurrent of cogitation was evident within her gaze. Yet, those who knew Fiorella more closely could predict only one conceivable conclusion.
"I do apologize."
A faint smile played upon her lips as she curtsied down with her eyes for a moment in a quiet gesture and whispered those words softly - then, her eyes narrowing in an almost playful manner. No trace of sorrow or vulnerability lingered within her gaze.
It took him a moment to reset, silently blinking as if surprised he was caught up in this scene of vanity again. It was a harsh transition to be sure, but judging by his amused exhale after he'd reacquired his bearings, he evidently managed without too much discomfort. "Don't." He urged her to not apologize with a single worded plea initially, taking a second to gather the words needed to proceed. "That was-" He paused abruptly. While he had tried to gather the words needed, he now quickly found there were none. "Let's just say beyond words." It sufficed as being the most accurate way for him to express himself.
Somehow his instincts told him she knew exactly what all of that was, but he couldn't be sure. And while he didn't want to demand an explanation, the way he looked at her embodied a silent request for clarity. But, his eyes while as focused as they usually were, would occasionally cast a glance down at her lips. As fraught with hesitation as he was, he would more than certainly do what he just did again if given the chance. In the locked room inside his head however, Damien's mind was racing to determine if those vivid experiences and feelings had come from within, but they couldn't have. Even if they did, why now? It was rare that he felt entirely out of depth in life, but perhaps there truly was a first time for everything.
She tilted her head slightly, leaning it gently against the wall, her back already in close contact with its surface. A deliberate, unhurried blink swept away the last vestiges of moisture that had clung to her long lashes. With this methodical gesture, any traces of her prior vulnerability dissipated, leaving behind a gaze that was once again sharp and penetrating, albeit softened by her apparently good, even upbeat, mood.
"I perceive a multitude of questions swirling within your eyes. Understandable, yet..."
For several prolonged seconds, she allowed the promise of a conclusive response to linger, stretching the tension between them into an uncomfortable stillness.
He began to feel a peculiar transformation once more, as if she surrounded him, observing from an infinite array of angles, each perspective converging upon him. The sensation was so potent that he almost imagined her presence in his peripheral vision. His eyes retained their awareness of the external world's movements, yet was his own mind linking these flickering sensations to her silhouette - or was it hers doing?
When he endeavored to focus on these sensations, they dispersed like morning mist before the sun, fleeting and evasive, waiting for the next lapse of his attention.
"... I shall withhold those answers from you. Curiosity, like all other emotions, should be savored fully, stretched to its limits. It must be stoked to such intensity that it compels every intellectual fiber of your mind."
She spoke unhurriedly, her deep voice resonating with the moment, each word chosen with care, each syllable articulated deliberately by her lips. Her tranquil, almost soothing tone bore a hint of playful, yet cruel mischief.
"Only then, my dear Damien, do you earn the privilege of receiving an answer."
His lips parted as if to make way for words, but there was nothing he could say in response. And without a clear line of thought, instinct took the helm, and he leaned back but stopped himself just shy of her lips this time. The structure of his face was briefly and quite dramatically pronounced by how firmly he clenched his jaw shut, as if he might have actually bit her on impulse given all the provocation.
After that, he just laughed, softly at first and then a little louder. She had him, his attention, and his interest. "Fine." One word, and all he could manage for the few seconds after the laughter. He was evidently preoccupied, split between curiosity, uncertainty and attraction. The lattermost of which was beginning to strip away the burdens of its competitors for dominance in the thought hierarchy.
While his mind raced through all of this, every sensation seemed to ramp up in intensity. Her skin felt softer, making him feel like he needed to hold on tighter, as if she might fall through his fingers. It was uncanny to say the least, coupled with an escalating notion that this was definitely uncharted territory for him. His better sense would have normally steered him away from this, but what was currently happening simply couldn't be compared with any of his previous life experiences. This stood by itself, with frightening amounts of allure, he wanted to both walk away and get lost in this experience at the same time.
With this renewed internal conflict, instinct once again served to replace inaction, drawing her towards him. This gesture, coupled with a few steps backward were part of a silent request that they leave this place and go elsewhere.
![[Image: GAy6bGA.gif]](https://i.imgur.com/GAy6bGA.gif)