It was dimly lit in our command tent. Me and Ralof had decided to pick the same tent. I felt the most comfortable with him, as I knew no one else. Ralof looked deeply into my eyes, shifting his hand over onto my arm left. I couldnt help but feel reluctantly aroused by his advances and hesitantly gave in. I was intimidated, but also captivated by his masculine image, as he pulled me closer and whispered in my ear. I want to give you my sword comrade. If you should accept it, we can come to a truce but, should you not and I shall receive my sword back... it shall start a war. I drew back from him, but subconsciously had backed up onto my sleeping bag as if to accept his proposal. By the blonde eyebrow he raised, he thought this to be true, leant over me and breathed on my neck. The warmth of this breath was sweet respite amongst the cold winds of Eastmarch. And right at that moment, pinned to my sleeping roll, the fight against Ralof in my soul gave out, my arms dropping to my sides. (oh dear shit.)
Posted on: Sun, 01 Dec 2013 00:11:18 +0000
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