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L has been keeping to himself, more or less, since his leg healed, but regular trips to the largest of the libraries are always on his agenda. As such, he spends much of his time reading. Tonight it's I, Claudius, which isn't holding his attention as well as he would like.
He rests in bed, propped up on pillows, his legs stretched out in front of him. Misa sprawls next to him, reading a magazine that she's managed to find somewhere. It might be any time of day, but his body and the lack of false daylight streaming in through the windows in their bedroom both tell him that it's probably closing in on midnight -- the moonlight, as fake as everything else, is silver in a dark blue velvet sky.
He shifts position, rolling on his side to face Misa, shifting the pillows that support his head. Before resuming his reading, he pauses to look at her. He likes the curve of her eyelashes against her cheek. As such, he tugs at the top of the spine of her magazine, then cranes his neck to try to kiss her forehead. He takes care to exaggerate the forlorn quality of his facial expression.
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firm_detective and misamisal. Adult content in its second half, but no smut tags. Translation: Hope is the anchor of life.
With regard to the injury mentioned here, it was an IC explanation for L's absence from the main community: he fell on some ice in one of the winter rooms and sprained his ankle and knee, and it took several months to heal.]
He rests in bed, propped up on pillows, his legs stretched out in front of him. Misa sprawls next to him, reading a magazine that she's managed to find somewhere. It might be any time of day, but his body and the lack of false daylight streaming in through the windows in their bedroom both tell him that it's probably closing in on midnight -- the moonlight, as fake as everything else, is silver in a dark blue velvet sky.
He shifts position, rolling on his side to face Misa, shifting the pillows that support his head. Before resuming his reading, he pauses to look at her. He likes the curve of her eyelashes against her cheek. As such, he tugs at the top of the spine of her magazine, then cranes his neck to try to kiss her forehead. He takes care to exaggerate the forlorn quality of his facial expression.
[Thread is private to
firm_detective and misamisal. Adult content in its second half, but no smut tags. Translation: Hope is the anchor of life.With regard to the injury mentioned here, it was an IC explanation for L's absence from the main community: he fell on some ice in one of the winter rooms and sprained his ankle and knee, and it took several months to heal.]
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Date: 2010-07-25 10:09 am (UTC)From:With her hands caressing him, then finding their way under his shirt, he leaves off exploring the satiny ruffles of her underthings. "This is interesting, Misa, but I would rather look at it than take it off of you before I've seen it." As he whispers to her, he moves his hand back to her waist, then tugs the skirt higher. "Please."
He can't lift the dress any further without her assistance; his own shirt will hardly be any more convenient to take off in their current positions. His pajama bottoms can wait.
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Date: 2010-08-06 04:12 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2010-08-27 06:21 am (UTC)From:At first, he leans back on his elbows, staring up at her, memorizing the details. She's wearing a black satin bra and matching knickers, both covered in black ruffles with red ribbon trim and bows. The knickers lace up on each side, but the ribbon he has already untied trails down her leg. Disarray is more tempting than perfection; it makes him want to unlace the panties further, but as he lifts the end of the ribbon between his fingertips, he changes his mind and lets it fall back against her thigh.
He curves his spine to bring his face closer to her, then wraps his arms around her waist and presses his lips to her abdomen, then higher, then higher again. The tumbled ends of her pale hair are brushing against his forehead. His breathing is regular, and when he reaches the bow at the center of the bra, he stops, then inhales a few times, turning his head to the side and nestling against her. He is certain, beyond doubt, that the bow is the source of the strawberry scent.
"Found it."
He sounds pleased with himself.