[He's right, that is better. And just like that, the gown is off, and the air feels just a touch more brisk and chill now than it did before, but she lowers her arms and looks at him, just as softly and intently as before.
She's a mess, really. Not just from the bandages on her arms and the bruises on her ankle, but from the other bruises and scrapes she'd picked up over the course of the week. He'd forced her to use her magic, sometimes, so that he could siphon it away; sometimes she didn't want to, and the marks of her punishment for her reluctance are littered all over her skin.
She knows how bad it looks. But she doesn't curl up in shame, and she doesn't look away. She keeps her eyes on Adrian — golden, perfect, beautiful Adrian — and waits.]
no subject
She's a mess, really. Not just from the bandages on her arms and the bruises on her ankle, but from the other bruises and scrapes she'd picked up over the course of the week. He'd forced her to use her magic, sometimes, so that he could siphon it away; sometimes she didn't want to, and the marks of her punishment for her reluctance are littered all over her skin.
She knows how bad it looks. But she doesn't curl up in shame, and she doesn't look away. She keeps her eyes on Adrian — golden, perfect, beautiful Adrian — and waits.]