It occurs to him, vaguely, as she brushes snow off his shoulder, that it might be rude to use such a word when he has a human in his arms like this—but he dismisses the thought just as easily. Astrid isn't shemlen, she's just human. She has nothing more in common with vile Tevinter magisters or petty Orlesian nobles than the shape of her ears.
He can't help her with his laces, focused as he is on keeping both of them upright, and he laughs into her mouth the more she fumbles. She doesn't want to stop kissing, but he wants his laces undone, so despite her protests he leans away, allowing her space to actually see what she's doing. Only when she's finally successful and his trousers loosen around his hips does Talin lean back in, kissing over her jaw.
"Now you, come on. I want to see you."
His breath fogs against her skin, warmer than the air around them, as he speaks. The cold is biting, but not so terrible this is a bad idea—so long as they stay pressed together, stay moving. He rocks his hips against hers, heedless of making her job undressing them more difficult, pressing them together in a slow drag, a teasing taste of things to come
😈
It occurs to him, vaguely, as she brushes snow off his shoulder, that it might be rude to use such a word when he has a human in his arms like this—but he dismisses the thought just as easily. Astrid isn't shemlen, she's just human. She has nothing more in common with vile Tevinter magisters or petty Orlesian nobles than the shape of her ears.
He can't help her with his laces, focused as he is on keeping both of them upright, and he laughs into her mouth the more she fumbles. She doesn't want to stop kissing, but he wants his laces undone, so despite her protests he leans away, allowing her space to actually see what she's doing. Only when she's finally successful and his trousers loosen around his hips does Talin lean back in, kissing over her jaw.
"Now you, come on. I want to see you."
His breath fogs against her skin, warmer than the air around them, as he speaks. The cold is biting, but not so terrible this is a bad idea—so long as they stay pressed together, stay moving. He rocks his hips against hers, heedless of making her job undressing them more difficult, pressing them together in a slow drag, a teasing taste of things to come
(her, if he does his job right.)