[ his hands are warm. the thought is a brief flash of clarity in her mind as his hands skim over her back and legs, gently guiding her forward, angling her just so — and then that clarity's gone, replaced by a sudden awareness of need and what can only be described as a whine low in her throat.
it's not enough, and yet, daisy's head tips forward, ducking down until her forehead presses in firm to the sheets, the nape of her neck exposed to his gaze and the air above. her breath is hot against her own skin, the sound of her own panting echoing in the hollow space created by the shift in position. a hand lifts, curving tight around the back of her own neck, nails scratching in mottled red streaks of half-moon paths across her shoulder as he moves.
if it's a reaction he wants, daisy's never been one to hide hers, and now is no exception. her hips, arching by instinct alone into the touch for more, ought to tell him exactly what she wants if nothing else does. ]
[ does he react this viscerally, he wonders? he can't. he's never been the type to be emotive and though he's been with her more than he's been with anyone else in his life (a realization that pulls him up short for a second) and is comfortable around her, he's still quiet and low key when it comes to bedroom activities.
for a few moments, he's content to let things stay as they are. maybe it's the way she's breathing or the fingers on her shoulder but those few moments pass quickly and he slides back into action. he lowers himself down and mouths a kiss at the base of her neck, breath hot near her ear while he adds a second finger because she can take it. he knows she can. he knows she wants more.
she can take it and she can handle him pushing harder, rougher, letting a little more of his restraint drop away. she's all right, she's okay and he's not going to hurt her. it's a mantra he has to repeat even as his fingers press forward once again. ]
[ as much as illya wants to set the pace for her, to make sure she's comfortable and consenting to every touch, the pace is still maddeningly slow. she can't help but rock back against him, instinctively seeking out more of what he's been so teasingly providing; he increases the pressure and she groans out a stammered approval, a thank you across a low exhale, soft gasps rolling over silence the syllables leave in their wake. ]
God, [ less devout than it ought to be, perhaps, but sincere all the same ] don't stop, please...
[ the words repeat themselves, fading out into nothing as her arms stretch out to slid under the pillows and curve fingertips over the hidden edge of the mattress, securing a grip that leaves her feeling only marginally steadier. ]
[ she needn't worry, he doesn't intend to stop. he's pretty sure that if he tried, she might actually kick him. their positions were such that it would be easy for her to catch him with a heel to the chin so he was just going to do his best to avoid that.
his fingers, good as they seem to be doing with her, aren't really what he wants to use but with the way she seems to be reacting and writhing, he's not going to pull them out just yet either. could he add another, see how much she could take?
yes, he thinks he's going to do that while at the same time leaning over and whispering something in her ear: ]
Do you want me to keep going like this? Or should I do something else? Or...both?
[ not at the same time. but he wonders if she has enough in her to go back to back. she'd mentioned senseless after all. ]
[ the greedy answer, stammered out in between breaths, softened by an exhale that seems to take all the air from her lungs as she adjusts. it's strange, how slow and almost contemplative he is, and yet how demanding it feels — she'd expected ... well, not this. she's not complaining, not by a long shot, but she is surprised.
but it doesn't feel like it's the right answer. or, at least, not the full answer. that takes a little more courage, and so daisy lets herself pant, catch her breath, just enough that she can turn her head towards him and whisper back. ]
I want you to do what you want. [ full stop. ] I promise I want it too.
[ that should be obvious considering he's got three fingers inside her and she's still telling him she wants more, but hey. the man's occasionally in need of a little clarity. ]
[ one day he is going to have to really tell her how hard it is for him to do what he wants. he's used to orders, regimented and restrictive routines that he follows to the letter. day in and day out, that was his life so to come here and be given choice and freedoms that he's not used to is going to take some adjustment.
even now, when she's desperately trying to get him to loosen up and relax and drop some control, he resists because that's what it feels like he has to do. but, there's really no way to resist now, not when he's in this deep with her and she's not about to just let him back away.
he nods and twists his fingers inside of her, trying to focus there instead of the future, instead of what he's going to do next. he stops trying to be so precise and elegant and instead goes for deeper and harder, trying to work her up and work her over in a way that she enjoys and wants more of. ]
[ maybe both was overzealous. maybe she overestimated exactly how much she could withstand before she came apart, his name gasped out into the sheets as her body stretches forward like the bow of a violin. but it's a hell of a way to go either way, so daisy's not complaining.
no, he fucks her — because how else do you say it, how else do you describe the unrelenting speed he picks up, the sharpness of his hand gripping around her hip, holding her in place, the heat of his breath against her back? — and she comes apart, arousal slick around his hand as she trembles, body falling slack and slumping into the mattress after a moment or two to gasp at a mouthful of air.
give her a minute. let her rest, let her heart rate slow down just enough to manage thinking about words, and then she'll roll over onto her back, peering up at him with a giddy, breathless smile. ]
Hi. [ hands lift to reach for his shoulders, pulling him in for a lazy, open-mouthed kiss. when they part, foreheads touching, she offers a little encouragement. ] Was that good for you, because it was pretty good for me.
[ pretty good. next time he will have to aim higher, do something different, set a better goal. just be glad he does not go so far as to maker her critique his method so as to completely ruin the mood of the evening. ]
I like seeing you enjoy yourself. [ and he wasn't so clueless that he thought she'd had a bad time. maybe he could do better but she certainly hadn't had a bad time. ]
So yes, it was good for me. [ very good for him in that regard. one corner of his mouth even lifts, a barely there smile appearing while he watches her come down and gradually settle after everything. ]
[ pretty good is a figure of speech. he'd gotten her off, hadn't he? granted, she was mostly just laying here for a reprieve, not begging off completely, so he doesn't need to be too worried about his final judges' score just yet.
unless he wants to be. that might be a disappointment. ]
Yeah? Good. [ with the blood finally settling in her body, she pulls herself upright, sitting up to face him. that small smile gives her all the encouragement she needs. ] But I happen to remember you asking me if I wanted something else, too.
[ much. he doesn't tease much. maybe he's found the ability to tease her once or twice a week but it is definitely not something he peppers into everyday speech with just anyone. how she has brought that side out of him in such a short amount of time he does not know.
he doesn't know how she's done a lot of what she's done to him but he's not questioning it either. it's there and he greedily doesn't her to take it away. not when he's never really felt like this before. ]
I meant what I said. When you are ready.
[ he absolutely knows what's going to come out of her mouth next. ]
[ he knew she'd say that from the beginning. she's been ready for a long time. wanting him to show her how much he wants her, wanting him to let go of the control that held a vice grip on his heart and his head, wanting him — that's been a truth for a long time. longer than daisy's truly ready to admit.
for right now, she offers the most immediate truth, and hopes that's enough. ]
[ maybe one day he wouldn't be surprised that she still wanted him. maybe he'd even learn to accept that this wasn't going away and maybe it was even growing stronger (on his side of things, at least).
he closes the gap between them and kisses her, soft and gentle and longing, before pulling back and opening his eyes to look at her. ]
I don't usually do this sort of thing. [ let go. lose that control when not in situations that required violence and bloodshed. ] But, I'm going to try. I want to try.
I know. [ quiet, soft; a tenderness to her voice that seems to only make an appearance in moments like these, when their bodies are so close anything else would feel like shouting.
she's seen him lose control in other ways before. she's seen anger take over, the way his whole body tenses, as if shedding some preordained rule of composure in order to accomplish a mission. that's not what she wants. that's not what she's asking for, and so she tries to clarify. ]
Sometimes, it feels like you hold back when you touch me, and I know — I know it's not because you don't want to, it's because you're afraid you'll hurt me … but, Illya — [ she exhales, a hand reaching up to brush over his jaw, her thumb skimming over the corner of his mouth ] I know you're not going to hurt me.
[ a small smile, quiet and reassuring, punctuates her words. ]
You don't have to ask my permission to touch me. You have it. Tonight, tomorrow … whenever you need to, I'm right here. If you want to, I want you to.
[ just like she wants to kiss him, sure and full of promises that they know better than to make right now, her palm still cupping his face. ]
[ he hopes that's obvious. she doesn't seem to be questioning his desire, thankfully, but more how he goes about things. how he touches her versus touching her in general. ]
It's not something that I realize that I am doing. It just happens. [ he holds back because she is too good and he doesn't want to ruin that, ruin her. he closes his eyes when she kisses him, sighing and staying just like that when she moves away.
eventually, he does open his eyes again, exhaling quietly. ]
You trust me more than I trust myself. [ because he knows what he is capable of doing. he knows what some doctor has labeled him as and he knows what words describe him in a file somewhere. ]
[ someday, they'll have a long conversation about doctors and diagnoses and files. it'll probably happen in this bed, too, after a long day, tangled up under sheets and voices so low they might as well be whispers. but it won't happen tonight.
tonight, daisy just shakes her head, a quiet chuckle escaping between her lips. ]
Plus, you know I can take you. [ in the ring, in this bed. doesn't matter. they're well-matched in that regard. ] I'd kick your ass from here to Moscow if you tried anything stupid and you know it.
[ but she doesn't have to worry about that, because she trusts him. because he's proven, time and again, that he'll do anything to keep her safe, that he cares about her, that he wants her to be happy. hurting her doesn't accomplish any of those things. ]
no comment but he's pretty sure he hasn't out and out admitted that she could take him in the ring or in bed. or maybe he has admitted that she could take him in bed (in more ways than one) but in the ring is a different story. ]
I do not know if that's true. [ he slides forward, leaning in to press a kiss against one of side of her mouth and then the other. ] I do not know if you can even reach my ass.
[ was that a short joke? yes and it had just come out of his mouth. he's pretty proud of himself, if he's honest. ]
Wow. Wow. [ a poor attempt at deadpan, a failure mostly because she can't keep the laughter out of her voice. ] You're so funny, babe. I guess I'll just have to use the step-stool, then.
[ you know, the one in the kitchen that she has to use to get the dishes off the top shelf when he won't get off the couch to help her? that one. ]
Or you could stay here, you know. I can reach everything just fine from here.
[ like his mouth, or the line of his jaw, or the rough scratch of his beard against her palm. the latter especially. ]
I cannot stay in bed just so you'll be the same height as me.
[ much as he was enjoying what she was doing while they were on the same level. he turns his face into her palm, letting the stubble scrape a little more firmly against her hand. he's still not sure about this beard but she seems to like it so that's incentive enough for him to keep it.
for now. ]
But even if you cannot reach me, I can reach you just fine. [ he does his best not to jostle her hands while reaching one of his own up to push some of her hair back behind her ear before trailing two fingers down her cheek and neck over to the slope of her shoulder. ]
Why not? [ it was nice and warm in bed, she was relaxed, he was clearly in a good mood. they could just stay here forever, right? (wrong, but let her daydream for a hot second, she deserves it.) ] This is more comfortable than standing on a ladder.
[ which is admittedly ridiculous. but it's what he gets for being eleven inches taller. ]
I do like when you reach me, though.
[ hummed out over a low exhale as his fingers skim over her skin, tracing a familiar path. not quite goosebumps, but her eyes close all the same, content to let him linger in that quiet softness for a little bit longer. ]
[ because it was clearly a fault on her end and not his. there were plenty of people who were as tall as him and while he had only seen one other who came close, there bound to be others. he was not an anomaly. ]
There is a lot of you to reach. [ considering she was still completely naked and he was still half dressed. he lets his eyes skim over her, going from head to toe and back up again before another smile makes its way onto his face. ]
You're lovely. [ she knows that, right? he hopes she knows that. ] Very lovely.
she knows he finds her attractive — obviously — but she doesn't expect the quiet appreciation that seems to come with his words. her eyes flutter open, a surprised smile curving over her mouth as she peers up at him. there's a long beat of silence in which daisy just smiles, warm and soft and inexplicably fond, as she lets a hand reach up to tangle with one of his. ]
You're not so bad yourself.
[ not by a long shot. ]
Edited (wow i am really good at words today) 2019-02-26 02:01 (UTC)
That is usually not something people notice about me.
[ it was true. but, it was probably true because most of the time illya either kept himself to the shadows and no one ever saw him or he was confronting someone with a flurry of violence thus making his physical appearance the last thing on their mind.
he gives her hand a squeeze and then shifts, moving to lay down on his stomach beside her. he knows he's supposed to be doing something else and he will get to it but she's smiling and it is a nie thing that he wants to enjoy for a moment.
she smiles with her entire face and he is both enthralled and fascinated by the whole thing. by her. by everything about her. ]
[ she's nearly forgotten their agreement. her body is relaxed, flushed from exertion and still a little jello-y post orgasm, and in the sweetness of their conversation, daisy's one-track-mind seems to have diverted off course in the nicest of ways.
she's not complaining.
no, she's all too happy to squeeze back, to scoot just that much closer as he lays next to her; her free hand dips to trace the line of his jaw, enjoying the sensation of that growing-in beard beneath her fingertips. ]
That was the first thing I noticed, actually. [ she hasn't told him this before. it comes out a confession, whispered, a hint of something blooming on her cheeks. ] I ... honestly, I saw you and I just really wanted an excuse to say hi so I could stare at you a little more without being a weirdo across the room.
[ so she'd strong-armed him into a game of checkers, because that had been a logical choice. ]
[ he has never known anyone to be so fascinated by facial hair. but it seems like every time he gets close, she has her hands on his face, stroking them up and down his cheeks and chin and neck. he's not complaining but if there was ever a good argument as to why he shouldn't save, it was this right here.
he leans into the touch, humming quietly because the walls he keeps up to keep everyone out don't seem to exist with her. she has a key. ]
You...did?
[ genuine surprise. he remembers their first meeting, of course, but he'd thought she'd come over because of how noticeable he was in just being new. the hair, the look of confusion, and just how generally out of place he must have appeared. ]
[ she could have picked out any number of new arrivals looking bewildered and confused, after all. she had, in fact; daisy had spent a lot of time around then meeting new people, introducing them to the safehouse and offering assistance where she could. but illya... well. she'd been detoured when she'd spotted him. and now look where they were. ]
I wasn't going to tell you then, obviously. It would have been weird.
[ actually, it probably would have been more normal than bullying him into a game of checkers and then provoking him into losing, but. well. daisy wasn't very good at normal people things, obviously. ]
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it's not enough, and yet, daisy's head tips forward, ducking down until her forehead presses in firm to the sheets, the nape of her neck exposed to his gaze and the air above. her breath is hot against her own skin, the sound of her own panting echoing in the hollow space created by the shift in position. a hand lifts, curving tight around the back of her own neck, nails scratching in mottled red streaks of half-moon paths across her shoulder as he moves.
if it's a reaction he wants, daisy's never been one to hide hers, and now is no exception. her hips, arching by instinct alone into the touch for more, ought to tell him exactly what she wants if nothing else does. ]
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for a few moments, he's content to let things stay as they are. maybe it's the way she's breathing or the fingers on her shoulder but those few moments pass quickly and he slides back into action. he lowers himself down and mouths a kiss at the base of her neck, breath hot near her ear while he adds a second finger because she can take it. he knows she can. he knows she wants more.
she can take it and she can handle him pushing harder, rougher, letting a little more of his restraint drop away. she's all right, she's okay and he's not going to hurt her. it's a mantra he has to repeat even as his fingers press forward once again. ]
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God, [ less devout than it ought to be, perhaps, but sincere all the same ] don't stop, please...
[ the words repeat themselves, fading out into nothing as her arms stretch out to slid under the pillows and curve fingertips over the hidden edge of the mattress, securing a grip that leaves her feeling only marginally steadier. ]
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his fingers, good as they seem to be doing with her, aren't really what he wants to use but with the way she seems to be reacting and writhing, he's not going to pull them out just yet either. could he add another, see how much she could take?
yes, he thinks he's going to do that while at the same time leaning over and whispering something in her ear: ]
Do you want me to keep going like this? Or should I do something else? Or...both?
[ not at the same time. but he wonders if she has enough in her to go back to back. she'd mentioned senseless after all. ]
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[ the greedy answer, stammered out in between breaths, softened by an exhale that seems to take all the air from her lungs as she adjusts. it's strange, how slow and almost contemplative he is, and yet how demanding it feels — she'd expected ... well, not this. she's not complaining, not by a long shot, but she is surprised.
but it doesn't feel like it's the right answer. or, at least, not the full answer. that takes a little more courage, and so daisy lets herself pant, catch her breath, just enough that she can turn her head towards him and whisper back. ]
I want you to do what you want. [ full stop. ] I promise I want it too.
[ that should be obvious considering he's got three fingers inside her and she's still telling him she wants more, but hey. the man's occasionally in need of a little clarity. ]
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even now, when she's desperately trying to get him to loosen up and relax and drop some control, he resists because that's what it feels like he has to do. but, there's really no way to resist now, not when he's in this deep with her and she's not about to just let him back away.
he nods and twists his fingers inside of her, trying to focus there instead of the future, instead of what he's going to do next. he stops trying to be so precise and elegant and instead goes for deeper and harder, trying to work her up and work her over in a way that she enjoys and wants more of. ]
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no, he fucks her — because how else do you say it, how else do you describe the unrelenting speed he picks up, the sharpness of his hand gripping around her hip, holding her in place, the heat of his breath against her back? — and she comes apart, arousal slick around his hand as she trembles, body falling slack and slumping into the mattress after a moment or two to gasp at a mouthful of air.
give her a minute. let her rest, let her heart rate slow down just enough to manage thinking about words, and then she'll roll over onto her back, peering up at him with a giddy, breathless smile. ]
Hi. [ hands lift to reach for his shoulders, pulling him in for a lazy, open-mouthed kiss. when they part, foreheads touching, she offers a little encouragement. ] Was that good for you, because it was pretty good for me.
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I like seeing you enjoy yourself. [ and he wasn't so clueless that he thought she'd had a bad time. maybe he could do better but she certainly hadn't had a bad time. ]
So yes, it was good for me. [ very good for him in that regard. one corner of his mouth even lifts, a barely there smile appearing while he watches her come down and gradually settle after everything. ]
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unless he wants to be. that might be a disappointment. ]
Yeah? Good. [ with the blood finally settling in her body, she pulls herself upright, sitting up to face him. that small smile gives her all the encouragement she needs. ] But I happen to remember you asking me if I wanted something else, too.
[ a quirk of her brow, a slight challenge. ]
You weren't just teasing, were you?
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[ much. he doesn't tease much. maybe he's found the ability to tease her once or twice a week but it is definitely not something he peppers into everyday speech with just anyone. how she has brought that side out of him in such a short amount of time he does not know.
he doesn't know how she's done a lot of what she's done to him but he's not questioning it either. it's there and he greedily doesn't her to take it away. not when he's never really felt like this before. ]
I meant what I said. When you are ready.
[ he absolutely knows what's going to come out of her mouth next. ]
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[ he knew she'd say that from the beginning. she's been ready for a long time. wanting him to show her how much he wants her, wanting him to let go of the control that held a vice grip on his heart and his head, wanting him — that's been a truth for a long time. longer than daisy's truly ready to admit.
for right now, she offers the most immediate truth, and hopes that's enough. ]
I said I wanted you. I meant it.
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[ maybe one day he wouldn't be surprised that she still wanted him. maybe he'd even learn to accept that this wasn't going away and maybe it was even growing stronger (on his side of things, at least).
he closes the gap between them and kisses her, soft and gentle and longing, before pulling back and opening his eyes to look at her. ]
I don't usually do this sort of thing. [ let go. lose that control when not in situations that required violence and bloodshed. ] But, I'm going to try. I want to try.
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she's seen him lose control in other ways before. she's seen anger take over, the way his whole body tenses, as if shedding some preordained rule of composure in order to accomplish a mission. that's not what she wants. that's not what she's asking for, and so she tries to clarify. ]
Sometimes, it feels like you hold back when you touch me, and I know — I know it's not because you don't want to, it's because you're afraid you'll hurt me … but, Illya — [ she exhales, a hand reaching up to brush over his jaw, her thumb skimming over the corner of his mouth ] I know you're not going to hurt me.
[ a small smile, quiet and reassuring, punctuates her words. ]
You don't have to ask my permission to touch me. You have it. Tonight, tomorrow … whenever you need to, I'm right here. If you want to, I want you to.
[ just like she wants to kiss him, sure and full of promises that they know better than to make right now, her palm still cupping his face. ]
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[ he hopes that's obvious. she doesn't seem to be questioning his desire, thankfully, but more how he goes about things. how he touches her versus touching her in general. ]
It's not something that I realize that I am doing. It just happens. [ he holds back because she is too good and he doesn't want to ruin that, ruin her. he closes his eyes when she kisses him, sighing and staying just like that when she moves away.
eventually, he does open his eyes again, exhaling quietly. ]
You trust me more than I trust myself. [ because he knows what he is capable of doing. he knows what some doctor has labeled him as and he knows what words describe him in a file somewhere. ]
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[ someday, they'll have a long conversation about doctors and diagnoses and files. it'll probably happen in this bed, too, after a long day, tangled up under sheets and voices so low they might as well be whispers. but it won't happen tonight.
tonight, daisy just shakes her head, a quiet chuckle escaping between her lips. ]
Plus, you know I can take you. [ in the ring, in this bed. doesn't matter. they're well-matched in that regard. ] I'd kick your ass from here to Moscow if you tried anything stupid and you know it.
[ but she doesn't have to worry about that, because she trusts him. because he's proven, time and again, that he'll do anything to keep her safe, that he cares about her, that he wants her to be happy. hurting her doesn't accomplish any of those things. ]
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[ when had he admitted that? was it true?
...
no comment but he's pretty sure he hasn't out and out admitted that she could take him in the ring or in bed. or maybe he has admitted that she could take him in bed (in more ways than one) but in the ring is a different story. ]
I do not know if that's true. [ he slides forward, leaning in to press a kiss against one of side of her mouth and then the other. ] I do not know if you can even reach my ass.
[ was that a short joke? yes and it had just come out of his mouth. he's pretty proud of himself, if he's honest. ]
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[ you know, the one in the kitchen that she has to use to get the dishes off the top shelf when he won't get off the couch to help her? that one. ]
Or you could stay here, you know. I can reach everything just fine from here.
[ like his mouth, or the line of his jaw, or the rough scratch of his beard against her palm. the latter especially. ]
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[ much as he was enjoying what she was doing while they were on the same level. he turns his face into her palm, letting the stubble scrape a little more firmly against her hand. he's still not sure about this beard but she seems to like it so that's incentive enough for him to keep it.
for now. ]
But even if you cannot reach me, I can reach you just fine. [ he does his best not to jostle her hands while reaching one of his own up to push some of her hair back behind her ear before trailing two fingers down her cheek and neck over to the slope of her shoulder. ]
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[ which is admittedly ridiculous. but it's what he gets for being eleven inches taller. ]
I do like when you reach me, though.
[ hummed out over a low exhale as his fingers skim over her skin, tracing a familiar path. not quite goosebumps, but her eyes close all the same, content to let him linger in that quiet softness for a little bit longer. ]
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[ because it was clearly a fault on her end and not his. there were plenty of people who were as tall as him and while he had only seen one other who came close, there bound to be others. he was not an anomaly. ]
There is a lot of you to reach. [ considering she was still completely naked and he was still half dressed. he lets his eyes skim over her, going from head to toe and back up again before another smile makes its way onto his face. ]
You're lovely. [ she knows that, right? he hopes she knows that. ] Very lovely.
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she knows he finds her attractive — obviously — but she doesn't expect the quiet appreciation that seems to come with his words. her eyes flutter open, a surprised smile curving over her mouth as she peers up at him. there's a long beat of silence in which daisy just smiles, warm and soft and inexplicably fond, as she lets a hand reach up to tangle with one of his. ]
You're not so bad yourself.
[ not by a long shot. ]
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[ it was true. but, it was probably true because most of the time illya either kept himself to the shadows and no one ever saw him or he was confronting someone with a flurry of violence thus making his physical appearance the last thing on their mind.
he gives her hand a squeeze and then shifts, moving to lay down on his stomach beside her. he knows he's supposed to be doing something else and he will get to it but she's smiling and it is a nie thing that he wants to enjoy for a moment.
she smiles with her entire face and he is both enthralled and fascinated by the whole thing. by her. by everything about her. ]
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she's not complaining.
no, she's all too happy to squeeze back, to scoot just that much closer as he lays next to her; her free hand dips to trace the line of his jaw, enjoying the sensation of that growing-in beard beneath her fingertips. ]
That was the first thing I noticed, actually. [ she hasn't told him this before. it comes out a confession, whispered, a hint of something blooming on her cheeks. ] I ... honestly, I saw you and I just really wanted an excuse to say hi so I could stare at you a little more without being a weirdo across the room.
[ so she'd strong-armed him into a game of checkers, because that had been a logical choice. ]
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he leans into the touch, humming quietly because the walls he keeps up to keep everyone out don't seem to exist with her. she has a key. ]
You...did?
[ genuine surprise. he remembers their first meeting, of course, but he'd thought she'd come over because of how noticeable he was in just being new. the hair, the look of confusion, and just how generally out of place he must have appeared. ]
I did not know that.
[ because she hadn't told him, duh. ]
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[ she could have picked out any number of new arrivals looking bewildered and confused, after all. she had, in fact; daisy had spent a lot of time around then meeting new people, introducing them to the safehouse and offering assistance where she could. but illya... well. she'd been detoured when she'd spotted him. and now look where they were. ]
I wasn't going to tell you then, obviously. It would have been weird.
[ actually, it probably would have been more normal than bullying him into a game of checkers and then provoking him into losing, but. well. daisy wasn't very good at normal people things, obviously. ]
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