illie, sap sipper
she/her
26
september 23rd
snowpoint city, sinnoh
bi curious
geneticist
head professor
oh, drunken gods of slaughter, you know i've always been your favorite daughter.
TAG WITH @illeana
illeana reyes
what you won't do for luvdisc [m]
POSTED ON Mar 4, 2020 21:53:24 GMT
he comes closer, quick and agile in the water. the scientific monstrosity stays in place, simply idle and oddly unblinking as it waits for its trainer to come back. the woman stares, confusion beginning to etch itself onto her features. why is he swimming back? she's holding him down, about to drown them both. why would he come back instead of just leaving her? it's a little funny, really... she hadn't pegged him for the caring type at first glance, not with how his features rarely display anything other than composed dignity. this is a different side than one she has been shown before, one that she isn't familiar with and it's perplexing more than anything. in her study of him, she doesn't notice the fabric beginning to shift. the string lays limp in her hands, pulled and pulled until it finally gave way to her distracted fingers. perhaps in this moment, he really might be wishing she had worn a wet suit instead. her mind doesn't catch up as quickly as his, doesn't even register the top beginning to move away from the rest of her body. no, she's still staring at him, still confused and utterly at a loss for what to do. she watches him come closer, however, watches him register something and his features twist accordingly. is that... surprise? she doesn't understand the emotion that's sprawled across his face nor his hurried pace to reach her. her mind can't understand it, can't wrap itself around the motives behind his actions. a soft gasp escapes her, then, as he wraps himself around her. his arms circle her body and she goes rigid, face lighting up with embarrassment in a mere moment. what? what's going on? why is he doing this? is he okay? the notion that fabric on skin brings her mind back from its previous course, earning a squeal from the dark haired woman. she practically flounders against him, arms and legs flailing in an attempt to get away, to immediately leave the entire region. this is awful, embarrassing, mortifying. her top is shifting in the current, free and unashamed as it leaves her uncovered. if not for his quick thinking, the sea creatures would've gotten a show! "i'msosorry!" the words mesh together as they leave her mouth in a panicked whimper, unable to even breathe between the amount of sheer anxiety that has now latched onto her throat. hide, hide, hide! she shrinks against him, chest heaving as she struggles for more air. his hands brush against her back as they move, searching and searching for the abandoned strings while her own hands tremble, clutching at his wet suit in vain. if her anxiety wasn't bad before, it sure is now! oh god, this really had to happen today? how is she even supposed to look him in the eye now? that thought alone is enough to make her squirm more, hips effectively bucking into his painfully. her fight or flight mode is in high gear and really, she's one wiggle away from hightailing it out of there. he speaks, then, and she stills in his arms, wide eyes focusing in on his own calm ones. breathe, take a deep breath, you're okay. it's all comforting, all aimed for her well-being. she's not a burden, not weighing him down. she won't drown him, not if he can allow it, and that's enough for her to shakily inhale. "i," she tries, unable to fully put together any words in this moment. her mind is reeling, jumping from thought to thought. breathe, ohmygod, chest is practically bare, heistouchingyouohlord, you're fine! it's all a jumble, mixing together into a frenzy. and yet, she tries to speak anyway, tries to save herself from making this situation worse. "thank you."her entire body screams fluster, screams embarrassment, and yet she stays there, stays pressed against him. is this contact too long? is she making him uncomfortable? oh god, what if he's mad? quickly, the woman leans toward him a little, as if analyzing his face will somehow give her the confirmation that she needs to continue. "i'm really sorry," she offers, voice a soft whisper. "i didn't -- i didn't mean for that to happen..." it did, however, and she's not sure where to go from here. absentmindedly, her hands clench against the fabric of his suit and she bows her head, as if hiding in his chest will make any of this better. it won't and she just feels stupid... is he going to think less of her now? is she no better than another scantily clad girl who can't do anything? god, if her embarrassment doesn't kill her then her mind surely will.
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