omnivoracious | Honeymoon Suite;

Entry tags:

!honeymoon suite

Honeymoon Suite;

Welcome to the Honeymoon Suite. Not only is it a spacious suite with a massive, comfortable bed, rose petals scattered all over the place, and quite a view of the island?

Check out this sweet-ass tub. It even has jets!

All in all, it's the perfect place to CONSUMMATE YOUR LOVE.

The walk-in closet and nightstand contain everything one might possibly need to properly enjoy some alone time, unless you are Cyrus, there are no ancient texts or tomes to be found here. What the hell is wrong with you.

Congratulations, Perfect Match!

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[His brow furrows when, the longer he waits, the longer there's silence.]

Could . . . ?

[He is genuinely at a loss.]

... Have you tried out the bed yet?

No, not yet. Are you somnolent?

[somn... sleepy? She thinks?]

No... that's not it...

B-beds can be used for more than just sleeping, you know...

Yes, some rest in it as they partake of their meals.

[That still leaves him puzzled. It's too early for dinner, unless she's saying that she's hungry.]

[CLOSES

HER

EYES.]

[okay douki-chan

you knew he was like this.

You have to ganbare harder!!]

Um, yes, I suppose... sounds kind of unsanitary.

... But I had, um--something else in mind...?

[He angles his head, hoping to catch her muttered words, but straightens at the wobbly assertion.]

Is that so? What is it?

[SHE TAKES A DEEP BREATH

and fails to spit the words out.]

Can you just... go sit on the bed or something? Just for a minute? And close your eyes.

[?]

. . . Very well.

[Cyrus trusts Aoko that closing off one of his senses is more intriguing than cause for alarm. He turns around, exits the bathroom, and goes to sit on the edge of the bed, where he folds his hands on his lap and closes his eyes, waiting—counting down a minute in his head, because that's what she said. Perhaps she wants him away for something private.]

[she is not aware that she only has a moment--but what she is aware of is that she immediately feels a rush of fondness when Cyrus doesn't question her, and instead listens to what she asks for.

That's... that's exactly what he did before, too.

That's exactly why...

She pauses to press her hand to her cheeks, feeling how warm they are, before she closes her eyes tightly. Okay... Okay! If she can't spit it out, she has to get it across to him in a different way.

So her fingers go to the buttons of her blouse, undoing them as quickly as she can without fumbling, face bright red. After the blouse, it'll be the skirt and stockings. It's fine. She's wearing the red lingerie underneath. She's been on a mission all day.

Surely even Cyrus can't miss the memo this way.]

[Tick-tock, tick-tock. Approximately a minute passes. Cyrus opens his eyes, yet Aoko is nowhere to be found. He doesn't yet move to leave the bed, though he does crane his neck toward the bathroom doorway.]

Aoko . . . ?

[Oh. That's all the time she gets, huh?

No time like the present--

She takes a deep breath, and...!

Steps into the bedroom.

In red lingerie only.]

[

]

[Never has Cyrus resembled a deer in the headlights so.]

A-Aoko . . .

["What happened to your clothes?"

No, that's an absurd question. She's clearly shed them. Cyrus thinks long and hard about the picture unfolding before him. As ever, Aoko looks lovely. But where else has he seen this sort of display? Ah, yes.]

. . . I didn't realize you were so eager to try out the jets.

[She gets hopeful for a moment--the expression on his face is clearly stunned, and he even stutters when he is usually so eloquent and ready to speak, and--]

[... oh.

For fuck's sake.

She thought he'd at least know the difference between lingerie and a swimsuit.]

[Now she's standing in the bedroom, nearly naked, as he sits there and thinks and--]

... That's not it. That's really... really not it.

[A beat, and her dour expression slips off and is replaced with a bit more concern. Maybe he's... really not interested? She doesn't want to force it on him if he's not...]

Um... U-um...

[She has to spit it out.

She's trying so hard.]

[Aoko's face oft showcases the many emotions running through her at a time. It's one of the things Cyrus appreciates about her. Irritation is a helpful indicator of his failings, but this downcast display is different. His lips part and brow furrows in growing worry as he stands and walks over to her with measured steps, poised to reach out.]

What is it, my dear . . . ?

[She stands there, horribly aware of just how exposed she is, and wondering why she thought this was even a good idea--

But.

She hasn't even... given him a chance to properly respond.

She still hasn't managed to spit it out.

She shuffles in place awkwardly, threading her fingers together in front of her, staring fixedly at the ground.]

What do you... want? What do you like? I--I don't want to j-just... focus on what I want, because I really, really l-l--

[DEEP BREATH.]

I really like you...!

[Ordinarily, he would place a hand on her shoulder. He wonders as to the wisdom of doing so when she's so bare and touching her there would only serve as a reminder of that fact. Instead, he comes in low and cups her joined hands in his.]

I like you as well.

[This, he says sincerely without hesitation.]

. . . Truth be told, I don't know what I like.

[The who is clear. He's been endeared to her from the start. He likes her, and keeping the premise of the show in mind has helped him clear out the potential misunderstandings before his ignorance could grow them.

That being said, it hasn't prevented all of them.]

However, I do know that I want what's best for you. Pray forgive my ignorance: It appears I've mistaken your intention for something else . . . but that is my failing to reflect upon for another time. I suppose what I want now, then, is to ask . . . what do you want, Aoko?

[His hands are warm over hers, and as ever, he's so, so considerate. Isn't this how it always is...? When it really matters, he's the most reliable person here, and Aoko knows what she's weak to.

So quietly, she sighs, and her shoulders slump--but there's a tiny smile on her face despite how red she is, so it seems she's not disappointed in his response in the least.]

... I want to experience everything I can with you. While we're here, and we have all of this time and this space and nobody can interrupt us and...

[Is that still too vague? She doesn't want to be crude. This goes beyond just not being able to spit it out now--she wants to preserve at least some of the romance of the situation.]

Not just... spending time together. It's--physically.

... If... you're okay with that too.

[Dense though he may be, indifference to the subject till now is different still from ignorance. It takes a moment, then realization of what she means dawns with yet another realization that he's completely out of his depth. Aoko's hands weigh down on his as Cyrus puts together the pieces he seems to have foolishly missed.

She didn't dress down in preparation for the tub. No, she meant to entice him. And he can't say that he finds the sight of her, slender and fair-skinned with the vibrant contrast of bewitching red to paint another side of her he hadn't seen before, undesirable. On the contrary, she's as lovely as ever.

The sort of desire of which she speaks is foreign to him, yet her words send his heart pounding. It's the symptom of his anxiety, of his fear that he'll fail to satisfy her and make her feel like the fool from his bumbling. It's the byproduct of his mind as it scrambles to recall everything he's ever learned about copulation in his youth, setting his nerves alight. It's the thrill nestled between each heartbeat that starts off small, then swells at the thought that she wants to embark on a journey of such intimacy and the discoveries therein with him.

His rapid thoughts slow after what feels like an eternity in the moment. Finally, Cyrus raises their hands to the space between them at chest level while the slack features of his face gather into a gentle smile.]

. . . Life is a joy when we experience something new every day. That is, I would like nothing more.

[The moment feels like an eternity to her. He doesn't recoil away from her, doesn't drop her hands, but... this is the bluntest she's ever been about what she wants, and--she really, really likes Cyrus. She doesn't want to lose him. And while she doesn't think he'd be the sort of person to be so offended that he no longer wants to be around her, anxiety doesn't listen to logic.

He raises their hands, and she can barely bear to raise her chin--

And then he smiles, and his words are soft and gentle and slowly, ever-so-slowly, she breathes out a relieved breath, and smiles back.]

... Th-thank you.

[What else can she say, really? He's willing--with her, and that... feels like so much more than any of her daydreams or wishes or hopes. It feels... warm.

So she leans in, and tilts her chin up, and he is so, so tall but on her tiptoes, she's able to gratefully brush their lips together.]

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