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“Maybe,” Laven replied, pressing a kiss to his temple she relished silently in the fact that she had, for once, made him flustered. It was a feat in and of itself because Wolframite was usually Mr. Suave who took control of a situation with ease; it was an art form really. Then again he did have a more dominant personality between the two of them.

There was no quip comment about teasing or that she was just joking. Instead, she nuzzled her cheek against his she leaned to the side and reached behind him to turn the burners off and switch the oven on low. “Maybe not…” she added.

She had no idea how far this moment would take them but if there were a time and place to take another step forward then this would be the best opportunity for that to happen rather than miss out on a precious moment and have regrets later for it. Her plan was to wear the fancy sleepwear and lingerie for if they decided to continue their relationship beyond the three months, but… such is life and plans were always open to change.

“If you would like to join me...” Laven ran her palms along his arms, from shoulder to elbow, then took a reluctant step away. “I will be in the bedroom waiting. Join me once the oven is heated so the bacon stays warm?” It was more of a question than demand but it would, hopefully, allow her the time to get change and maybe put a braid or two in her hair so she at least felt pretty for him rather than like a lazy bum with the normal pajamas she wore and bed head she woke up with.

When she heard the sound of floorboards creaking, Laven quickly kicked the black gift bag the cloths had been in, under the bed then leaned against the corner of it, feet crossed at the ankles with her fingers laced together in front of her.

In the time it took him to come up to their bedroom, she had changed her clothes from the cotton paisley patterned pajama bottoms to a deep purple negligee with a black lace top and trim around the base to match. The fabric appeared to be a satin or silk in texture but it was semi see-through allowing him a slightly obscured view of the fancier lingerie she wore underneath.

She felt both nervous and apprehensive when the door handle turned and nearly jumped across the room to slam it shut and say she wasn’t ready.

What if he didn’t’ like it? Or thought she was trying too hard to be something she wasn’t? What if it wasn’t as flattering on her as she thought it was when she glanced at herself in the mirror. Her scales were, for the first time, in full view. None hidden beneath in article of clothing or her uniform; what if he found it disgusting? All he had mentioned was hating the color pink...

All these thoughts and more ran through her mind in the seconds that passed between him stepping over the threshold and their eyes met. Then, all seemed to go silent as she all but held her breath almost terrified of what his reaction would be and yet she managed to smile, albeit shyly.

Laven was the first to break the kiss. Breathless as she was, she leaned her forehead against his and closed her eyes.

“I take it… you approve…?” It was more of a question than a statement as she turned her head to the side to nuzzle her face against his affectionately. One hand rested atop his wrist that had held her chin in place while the other, she reached up to cup his other cheek tenderly.

Brushing her thumb over his jawline Laven feared that he could hear how hard her heart was beating with how close he was but that nervousness did not stop her from purring as she had been before they came upstairs.

“I only knew what color you didn’t like,” she admitted. “I forgot to ask which ones you did.” Purple just seemed like a safe bet or green perhaps, but this one just felt right.

Distracted by his gentle kisses and careful touches she nearly missed his question and although Laven’s lips parted, not a word fell from them.

Instead, the back of her fingers brushed against the side of his neck and came to rest against the soft fabric of his shirt right above his heart. She pushed against him slightly, if only to give her enough room to breathe, to think, to process what he was asking.

Despite the thin fabric that covered far less than her normal clothing, she felt warm but not uncomfortably so. Then again, that was likely due to his nearness, their breath mingling together in the small space between them. Her hand closed, sharp claws snagging on the cotton weave as eyes the color of crushed glacial ice found themselves lost in his soft yellow, seemingly pupilless gaze.

The ball of nerves unwound themselves releasing a rogue wave of excitement and apprehension crashing into her senses.

For the last four months, they had been sharing a bed, and despite their nearness, there were always bedsheets or clothing between them. Her head tucked beneath his chin or his arm draped over her side, they fit somewhat comfortably beside each other yet boundaries were respected. They had agreed to a three month trial period, to see if a relationship between them could work and although many people may see this as a desperate attempt to keep him, for Laven it was anything but.

She trusted him, pure and simple.

Wolframite was many things and even though his past was still an enigma to her, she trusted him implicitly. Multiple times he had saved her life, held her when she was scared, and never pushed her beyond what she was comfortable with.

Which brought them to this moment. If there was ever a place or time, this was it. And so she nodded her head, a nearly imperceptible action and if it wasn’t that he was so close, or his hearing was no better than a normal civilian’s, it’s likely he would have missed her quiet reply.

“Yes.”

Laven nodded but made no move to remove her clothes. “In a moment,” she replied, head leaning to the side as her eyes traveled down his torso in a mix of curiosity and wonder rather than disgust as that was likely the reaction he had been anticipating.

He was a warrior.

A fighter.

A survivor.

And her youma side seemed proud by what it saw which is why, when she reached out to touch them only to pause just a hair’s breadth away, it all but demanded she not pull away. Instead, Laven’s pupils pulled into tight slits while curious fingers traced the raised path that raced over his ribs and down his well-toned sides.

His scars wove a story of a past she knew little about and while the incidents that caused them may have helped shape who he was, they didn’t define him or the man he was trying to be.

She knew that he had been captured by the Blood Moon Court and that a woman, a senshi with orange hair, had burned him badly. However, the only scars she was aware of had been the ones she felt when she carded fingers through his hair. The rest she had remained oblivious to because his glamour hid everything. But seeing the full scope of the burns made her fully understand why he reacted the way he did in the shadow realm when the dragon appeared and they were all surrounded by a wall of fire.

Two natures converged into one, albeit briefly, as Lavendulan trailed soft kisses from his jawline down to his collarbone as he had done to her upon entering the room. When finally she pulled away, long enough to take a breath, the two sides split and while her more human emotions almost pulled from her parted lips words of an apology, the youma within her growled out a word of warning in the back of her mind.

Wolframite had once said that youma were simple creatures, that they want what they want and take it and so she said nothing. Instead, Laven turned around and lifted the silken fabric over her head to reveal the scaled hourglass pattern along her spine that was broken by a diamond shape in the center. The small blue plates went from the nape of her neck, over her shoulders, and curved over both hips but the ones that protected the curve of her back were more like larger v-shaped plates.

Unlike him, her scars were minimal, restricted to the stab on her back from their time in the rift, the two bites he'd already seen from the shark on her calf and gremlin mark on her heel, then there was the mark he had left her with from their initial spar which became more visible when she pulled her hair over the other shoulder for him to see.

Worrying her lower lip, she remained facing away from him since there were none on her front aside from the few that wrapped around her ankles or those that were on her face.

Laven’s sleek blue scales were unique in that while they offered protection to more vulnerable areas that were otherwise more difficult to defend or protect, they also desensitized certain sensations while heightening others. Pain was still very real if they were to break or if she were hit hard enough that they fell loose, but here, with Wolframite that was not something she had to worry about now. Textures were lost upon her unlike temperature changes which were noticed near immediately.

Accompanying the soft tic tic tic sound was a gentle pressure traveling along the curve of her spine. She knew by the width of it, and the warmth that passed through her scales, that he used the side of his hand or palm rather than the pointed tip or back of his claws which would have traveled a more narrow path followed by only noise.

Wolframite’s heated breath against her shoulder where he kissed her tenderly above his scar radiated outward and like a wildfire it sparked an excitement that was tampered by the slow ripple of nervousness that chased after it. It was an intimate gesture but the mark he had left her with almost half a year ago, where lighter blue scales reformed in an almost crescent shape, served as a sharp reminder that the man behind her had a more dangerous feral side.

Then again… so did she.

However, the fear and apprehension she felt derived more so from the unknown than it did from, or of, him. Laven kind of knew what to expect from previous conversations with friends; but that was when she was still a human. Things had definitely changed since then in ways she was still discovering.

His movements and words drove her to near distraction but skin to skin she leaned against him and placed her hands on the back of his. She moved them so wrapped around her, holding her close to him while the other, she raised to cup her cheek. Laven closed her eyes then nuzzled her face against the rough pads on his hand and nodded her head in a wordless approval.

For several moments she laid there beside him in silence, watching his chest rise and fall with each breath. His claws coming through her hair methodically, lulling her into a calming state of mind. Beneath her fingertips, Laven could feel the beat of his heart pounding against his ribcage, a staccato rhythm, just as hers was.

“Mmhmm,” she replied, nuzzling her face against his shoulder.

Yes, there was a lingering soreness, as she knew there would be, but aside from she felt… well… she felt a lot of things. A mix of emotions that culminated into a quiet calmness as she curled against him with one leg lazily draped over his while she traced the pattern of scars down the length of his side.

Laven shifted beside him to press a kiss against his shoulder and a second along his collarbone before laying her head back down again. “Are you ok?” She asked in return, looking up at him with a satisfied yet relaxed expression.

“Is that a good or a bad thing?” She asked, feeling a seed of worry start to take root she reached up with a tentative hand to brush stray strands of hair away from his face. “Tell me what you’re thinking, please?”

He had been her first kiss, her first relationship, her first time; none of which she regretted. But for him it was different. He had the experience where she did not; however, they had been with men.

“I can’t tell if you regret it.” Worry knitted her brows together in concern.