[ Mako teases back, because his smile lights up her day and she knows it now -- she could see the happiness, pure and breath-taking, and he's changed so much since she'd first met him at the bar years ago, when he'd thought she had been a client and Mako had done nothing to dispel that misconception.
And here they are now, sharing the same bed, each such a large part of the other's life that it's impossible to extricate either one of them from it. She cups his face, leaning in to press her forehead against his. ]
I was thinking about how blue your eyes are. Or how your lips seem to be so naturally pink always. [ She leans to kiss his mole, that adorable one above his upper lip. ] You could put many women to shame.
[Raleigh laughs softly, and he nudges her a little so that he can get off his stomach and make it easier for her to kiss him, isn't he thoughtful. But it's also selfish because he wants to face her and slip his arms around her.]
You really know how to flatter a guy. Telling me I'm prettier than a girl-- how do you think I got any business before I met you?
[ Oh, he's so thoughtful. Mako's happily accommodating, because she'd accommodate anything if it means that she's got an easier time of kissing him senseless.
Her thumb gently smooths over his bottom lip, and not for the first time, she thinks that she's the luckiest woman in the world -- there would be so many who would kill to have him look at them the way he looks at her, so many who would want to be kissed by him. And here he is, in her bed, in her arms.
She smiles, before she gently coaxes his lips apart and gives him an openly sensuous, wonderfully french kiss, her tongue in his mouth and exploring him for a good few moments. Pulling out, she murmurs. ]
Luck, and reputation. Thankfully, I'm your very last customer.
[Any time she feels like waking up for something like this, he's completely okay with. Raleigh leans into the kiss, part of him tempted to push it into something deeper, more urgent, take it further but he holds off on that, following her lead instead. It's a wonderful kiss, open and arousing but it's just that right now-- a kiss. Exploring each other, coming back home, spending a few lazy moments together first thing in the morning.]
Not a customer. [And if she was, she clearly owes him a literal fuck ton of money for all the sex they've had since that first night.] You never really were.
[ ...Yes, well. If they had to count that all those times, the amount she'd owe him would be in the cushy seven digits. Mako sighs, contented and happy, delight and warmth evident in the way she looks at him. He's happy, very much so, and Mako runs her fingers up and down his side, tracing over the lines of his body, the curve of muscle, lean and powerful.
She's considering Tendo's words again, and she looks back at him, contemplative and hesitant. She's never asked this -- never thought that she needed to, but there are some things that ought to be spoken out loud. So she asks him the one thing lovers have always asked each other: ]
[That's something that Raleigh never expected her to ask, even though it makes sense they would talk about it, have to put words to it at some point. Does he love her? Did she not see everything in the Drift? Is the sky blue?
It doesn't bother him so much anymore, when Mako touches his side, brushes against his scars. He's got new ones, fresh ones from Pitfall that are still red and angry, layered with the ones from five ago.
Something's a little off this morning. The distraction of kisses aside, she seems more somber and quiet than she usually and that's saying something for Mako.]
[ Mako doesn't smile at that, because she has to know, because some things are better when spoken instead of known. Her fingers trace over his scars, old and new -- he's her hero even if he thinks otherwise, he's been through so much, and yet he still gives without complaint. Raleigh is a neat package of complications under a simple exterior, and her thumb lightly strokes over one of the newer scars, smoothing over the raised flesh.
She wears some of them herself, knows how sensitive it can be. Mako is quiet as she contemplates this simple, profound truth. Does she love him? How does she define it? ]
I don't know what it's supposed to mean. [ It's nebulous, undefinable and all-encompassing, and is she doing this right? Does she love him? ]
[So this isn't really a cute moment, it's more serious than that, Raleigh's gathering now because she's not smiling or laughing at him and he mimics her mood without even realizing he's doing it.
He moves to put his fingers through her hair, as she traces over his scars.]
[ How best to say this? She's sure that there isn't any easy way to start this conversation, especially when she'd been mulling over it for the longest time.
Brushing her fingers over a particularly nasty one that narrowly skirts a nipple, Mako finally says, ]
I was wondering if I loved you. Someone told me that if I didn't, I should let you go.
[Raleigh tenses, more so than he already has, and he reaches to catch her her hand, make her fingers stop doing that because it's distracting. They haven't really talked about it, have they but he thought it was so obvious and she can't leave, that's not an option, he won't accept it so she must love him.]
[ Her hand stills in his, and she stops to look at him, bereft of her distraction. It's only when she looks into his eyes that she gains more of an awareness, an understanding, perhaps. She doesn't want to be without him; he's so much a part of her that she doesn't know what to do with it.
It should terrify her, but it doesn't.
She breathes. ] I don't know. But no, I'm not. [ The thought of sending him away makes her tighten her fingers on his. She leans closer, hesitant. ] I don't want to let you go.
[He's still not really appeased by that answer. Raleigh doesn't relax, telling him that she doesn't want to let him go-- that doesn't really solve what's really bothering him. Because he doesn't want her to stay because she feels obligated to.]
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[ Mako teases back, because his smile lights up her day and she knows it now -- she could see the happiness, pure and breath-taking, and he's changed so much since she'd first met him at the bar years ago, when he'd thought she had been a client and Mako had done nothing to dispel that misconception.
And here they are now, sharing the same bed, each such a large part of the other's life that it's impossible to extricate either one of them from it. She cups his face, leaning in to press her forehead against his. ]
I was thinking about how blue your eyes are. Or how your lips seem to be so naturally pink always. [ She leans to kiss his mole, that adorable one above his upper lip. ] You could put many women to shame.
no subject
You really know how to flatter a guy. Telling me I'm prettier than a girl-- how do you think I got any business before I met you?
no subject
Her thumb gently smooths over his bottom lip, and not for the first time, she thinks that she's the luckiest woman in the world -- there would be so many who would kill to have him look at them the way he looks at her, so many who would want to be kissed by him. And here he is, in her bed, in her arms.
She smiles, before she gently coaxes his lips apart and gives him an openly sensuous, wonderfully french kiss, her tongue in his mouth and exploring him for a good few moments. Pulling out, she murmurs. ]
Luck, and reputation. Thankfully, I'm your very last customer.
no subject
Not a customer. [And if she was, she clearly owes him a literal fuck ton of money for all the sex they've had since that first night.] You never really were.
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She's considering Tendo's words again, and she looks back at him, contemplative and hesitant. She's never asked this -- never thought that she needed to, but there are some things that ought to be spoken out loud. So she asks him the one thing lovers have always asked each other: ]
Do you... love me?
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It doesn't bother him so much anymore, when Mako touches his side, brushes against his scars. He's got new ones, fresh ones from Pitfall that are still red and angry, layered with the ones from five ago.
Something's a little off this morning. The distraction of kisses aside, she seems more somber and quiet than she usually and that's saying something for Mako.]
Yeah. Do you really even have to ask?
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She wears some of them herself, knows how sensitive it can be. Mako is quiet as she contemplates this simple, profound truth. Does she love him? How does she define it? ]
I don't know what it's supposed to mean. [ It's nebulous, undefinable and all-encompassing, and is she doing this right? Does she love him? ]
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He moves to put his fingers through her hair, as she traces over his scars.]
What's bothering you?
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Brushing her fingers over a particularly nasty one that narrowly skirts a nipple, Mako finally says, ]
I was wondering if I loved you. Someone told me that if I didn't, I should let you go.
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Do you? Are you going to?
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It should terrify her, but it doesn't.
She breathes. ] I don't know. But no, I'm not. [ The thought of sending him away makes her tighten her fingers on his. She leans closer, hesitant. ] I don't want to let you go.
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How do you not know if you love me or not?