[ For how expertly composed Fenris was in wearing his array of masks, he was surprisingly expressive to the trained eye and boy, had Hawke studied hard over these years to pick apart the inconsistencies. Right now however? He probably would have aced the test even without all that studying. A soft, lax mouth, the slightest flutter of eyelashes and a telling pitch in the steady draw of breath… he’d been hoping to nudge one of Fenris’ heavily protected buttons, but he certainly hadn’t planned on ramming directly into one either. This thing between them, this unnamed attraction, was always shifting, always changing, going from ice cold to molten liquid within a matter of seconds; confusing at best, the cues for more were there, but they were scattered and more often than not, brushed under the rug after one badly timed joke. Nonetheless, he’d never gotten here. Potent and promising, the desire was heavy-laden, and with the careful arch of the other’s body, Hawke had to admit that maybe the beads weren’t as adolescently misplaced as he’d previously thought. They’d only needed a catalyst, a reason to breech the obvious and talk about it but then there was an unintended shift and he almost felt like buckling with it.
Blue.
Inhaling sharply, his mind was suddenly crowded, silent yet loud, empty yet full, suffocated with emotions he, for a moment, almost believed were his own. Mixing and intertwining with the frayed ends of his thoughts, there was a word below it all, he could sense it hidden there, but blotted out from the excess of feeling, the syllable was muted, fuzzy, the emphasis starting and ending with that first letter. Narrowing his eyes, and knitting his brows, he tried to work through the rush, wanting to understand it; it was reluctant and determined, awkward, heavy and all encompassing, the different shades all tangled up in one large mass of wanting. It made him light-headed and oddly addicted, starved on a feeling he’d locked away for years.
And then it was gone. The line severed and he could suddenly breathe, everything locking back into place and leaving him… not empty, but largely aware of how long he’d been waiting for even a hint of that mutual craving. And now that he had it? Blinking lazily, he eyed that poor attempt of a frown and while instinct told him to back off, to leave Fenris alone as he’d always done when he’d pushed too hard, his mind was still buzzing, far too caught up in what this could become, to shy away from what it already was. So he set the white bead back down, and dug through his mind, knowing it came down to two possibilities; finding a black and a blue, he ran the tip of his finger over the tops and then guessed, pressing the shape into the elf’s palm as he found his gaze again. ] Blue? [ And his face softened with the thought, his smile warm, albeit a tad drowsy. ] Why blue?
Hawke will gladly take that too. herp derp, take.
Blue.
Inhaling sharply, his mind was suddenly crowded, silent yet loud, empty yet full, suffocated with emotions he, for a moment, almost believed were his own. Mixing and intertwining with the frayed ends of his thoughts, there was a word below it all, he could sense it hidden there, but blotted out from the excess of feeling, the syllable was muted, fuzzy, the emphasis starting and ending with that first letter. Narrowing his eyes, and knitting his brows, he tried to work through the rush, wanting to understand it; it was reluctant and determined, awkward, heavy and all encompassing, the different shades all tangled up in one large mass of wanting. It made him light-headed and oddly addicted, starved on a feeling he’d locked away for years.
And then it was gone. The line severed and he could suddenly breathe, everything locking back into place and leaving him… not empty, but largely aware of how long he’d been waiting for even a hint of that mutual craving. And now that he had it? Blinking lazily, he eyed that poor attempt of a frown and while instinct told him to back off, to leave Fenris alone as he’d always done when he’d pushed too hard, his mind was still buzzing, far too caught up in what this could become, to shy away from what it already was. So he set the white bead back down, and dug through his mind, knowing it came down to two possibilities; finding a black and a blue, he ran the tip of his finger over the tops and then guessed, pressing the shape into the elf’s palm as he found his gaze again. ] Blue? [ And his face softened with the thought, his smile warm, albeit a tad drowsy. ] Why blue?