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Soft hands drift lightly a long his jaw.
"Have you not done anything like this before now?"
Breath hitches as her hands continue down, eventually resting gently on his collar bone.
"I have, it felt a bit different admittedly. Less invasive."
Her gaze is soft yet piercing, in a way that mangles anything negative that his head has been swimming in for months now. A touch of something else is there. Something he doesn't recognize.
"Would you like me to stop?"
He grins, enlarged teeth gleaming sharply. A reminder that pings her fight or flight distantly in her mind.
"No. You already know the limits."
She nods. 'No removing anything not already gone, no grabbing his horns, nothing below the belt'. A simple set of rules, a set that if broken he'll be gone faster than a lightning bolt.
The man sitting beneath her has many names, though he insists on being called Michael. He is, in many ways, akin to her. She looks into his eyes and her panic centers ring out again. So human, but so foreign, one is crystal sky blue, and the other liquid gold. The colors mix slightly, gold seeping into the bottom left side of his right blue iris, and blue doing the same in the upper right of his left.
That's not what truly sets it off though.
What really gets her is the fact that his irises are different shapes. His right a round, natural thing, and left a near sliver.
He has said before that it is just his primal visage seeping through, and she really finds that more uncomfortable to think about, though she'd never admit that out loud.
She's pulled out of her thoughts suddenly, his hands resting on her waist now.
"Are you alright?"
"Oh yes, just lost in thought."
He frowns a little at that. "Hopefully not a bad trial of it"
She grins, hard enough to show the dimples in her smile and laughs softly.
"It was nothing to worry about, just a little consuming."
He reaches up to run his hands through her flame hued hair, silently reveling in the softness of it.
Hands cupping her jaws, he studies her features like he's never seen her before.
Pale white skin, long and near curly red hair, and emerald eyes that show the determination and conviction within her at all times. She is a goddess in the northern parts of the world, having shown herself to many hunting and warring cultures.
She disguises herself as a fox, or a mix of both her human form and fox. That's how she earned the name Vixen.
The two sit on a wooden bench within a small building, once a home but now a crumbling reminder of whomever lived there before.
Vixen had done away with a majority of her clothes, quietly grumbling about how they felt on her until Michael relented and suggested she just do away with them for now. The two had been wandering the vast greenlands of northern Greece for a while now, either on two feet or four, not going anywhere in particular. Michael was technically there to hunt demons and other malicious entities and Vixen was just along for the ride.
"Michael?"
Michael startles for a second, snapping out of his thoughts. He flicks his eyes back up from his hands and makes eye contact again.
"I- Yes?"
"Are you alright yourself?"
His hands twitch, then slide gently down to rest his thumbs in the outer crease of her thighs.
"Yes." He chirps back.The corners of his mouth twitch up a little, a wry look sneaking into his gaze.
"Just thinking about where we ought to head to next. I'm thinking we should head towards the coast."
Vixen hums, and looks out of the window, contemplating for a moment before turning back to Michael.
"I'm not going to have to do this on foot right?"
Michael laughs quietly, the sound somewhere between church bells ringing in the distance and a forge in use. Just another reminder of what lies beneath that pale disguise of his.
"Of course not, you never can walk nearly fast enough."