[The glint of teeth catches her eyes, and the moment she notices those points Rin's eyes grow wide with recognition. Rather than surprise, fear, or disgust, her expression simply says, "I knew it." A grin spreads on her own lips before she takes advantage of the kind way D obliges her.]
I think no matter the outcome here... it'll be you who loses in this room, D.
[Tohsaka has no doubt that if he killed her on the spot he'd be saddled with guilt. Yet, even if this "peacefully" comes to its conclusion he will suffer in another way. Loss to a Zenite, yes, but also because Rin doesn't consider herself a good partner in intimacy. The taste of her skin likely reflects the bitter, herbal medicine she has been taking for as long as she could remember. Her scent, though obscured by her perfume, cannot be completely obliterated. Rin considers herself like a Monet — better if observed at a distance.
All the same she takes those soft lips. Tilting her head to find a comfortable way to slot against him as her hand moves from his face to the nape of his neck — into that cascade of dark hair that falls forward and curtains them like a haunting veil. How unfair. How cruel. His beauty is like that of the moon; serene and perfect in all its silver splendor. Juxtaposed with her, she is nothing. She is foul, flawed, and disgusting.
The disparity between them sparks that urge within her again. To take, and to rule, and to lord over him. The hand in his hair curls to a fist. Pulling at his silken locks until there's a tug at his scalp. Meanwhile the way she kisses him becomes more fervent. Frenzied. Passionate with the desire to overtake and overwhelm.]
no subject
I think no matter the outcome here... it'll be you who loses in this room, D.
[Tohsaka has no doubt that if he killed her on the spot he'd be saddled with guilt. Yet, even if this "peacefully" comes to its conclusion he will suffer in another way. Loss to a Zenite, yes, but also because Rin doesn't consider herself a good partner in intimacy. The taste of her skin likely reflects the bitter, herbal medicine she has been taking for as long as she could remember. Her scent, though obscured by her perfume, cannot be completely obliterated. Rin considers herself like a Monet — better if observed at a distance.
All the same she takes those soft lips. Tilting her head to find a comfortable way to slot against him as her hand moves from his face to the nape of his neck — into that cascade of dark hair that falls forward and curtains them like a haunting veil. How unfair. How cruel. His beauty is like that of the moon; serene and perfect in all its silver splendor. Juxtaposed with her, she is nothing. She is foul, flawed, and disgusting.
The disparity between them sparks that urge within her again. To take, and to rule, and to lord over him. The hand in his hair curls to a fist. Pulling at his silken locks until there's a tug at his scalp. Meanwhile the way she kisses him becomes more fervent. Frenzied. Passionate with the desire to overtake and overwhelm.]