“Hatori let me touch you.”

⊰ ♞ ⊱ —— “You wish to touch me?” Hatori whispered, his monotone voice no louder than the flap of a butterfly’s wings, and twice as fragile. The dragon regarded her warily, not used to Akito being the one to initiate such activities, after all, he knew her proclivity for denying that which most men would seek. It was that little inclination that intrigued him- Akito was a prize to be won, in his eyes, he had never considered her to be easy. He was sure there were others who would disagree, but he would never regard his God in that way.

Her word was law, and if she deigned to tell him that he was about to be touched by her, far be it from him to disobey. Lowering closer to the ground, the dragon kept his grey gaze trained on her as he shifted into the seiza position. Trembling fingers were already reaching up to tug at his suddenly much-too-restricting tie- a half-assed attempt to undress for her, but his nerves were making his diligent hands all but useless.

It was then that he felt a coldness against his cheek; one of her bony, chilling little fingers stroking the skin underneath the layer of thick bangs on his left-side. It was enough to shoot a shiver down his spine, that was, before he relaxed into her touch. Eyes fluttering shut, Hatori gave the happiest, and quietest of sighs, finding comfort in God’s touch- the likes of which an outside would never know, nor ever understand.

“Akito,” Hatori breathed, his twitchy fingers now reaching out and treading carefully as he tried to tug her into his lap. “Just like this. This is the kind of touch I would like tonight, I…” I just want you to touch me here, I don’t want to spoil this moment. “Just… Please, keep your hand right here.” Reaching up, Hatori placed his own much-larger hand over hers, cradling it against his cheek ever so gingerly. “Just like this.”