❛ her thighs begged for a kiss. my lips made it rain. ❜ — Jan02.

The way she gave herself to him so freely, Silas adored and held great reverence for; for she showed him trust in no shape or form he knew of before he'd met her. Their trust in one another was one that needed no extravagant words nor professions---instead the simple act of unsheathing their desires in their rawest forms was enough to reassure him of her undying affections. He watched as she slowly fell apart, not in destruction but in utter, fleeting bliss. The quiddity of her pleasure fed his own, encasing him there in the moment with her as she cried out, his name. Her voice was made of the dulcet melodies musicians longed to capture in their symphonies, a haunting siren call that lured sailors to their unfortunate death.

And yet, he never felt more alive as they moved in harmony, her smaller body yielding and following along to the steady strums of his finger. "Look at how ing wet your is for me already. Do you want me that much, chérie?" he asked, husky voice barely reaching higher than a few decibels as more of her juices stained his fingers, now his palm with every . He was clearly , the bulge in his sweats giving evidence to his current state of mind; and when she reached for his hand, Silas all but smiled as he traveled upward, muscled torso hovering over hers. He locked gazes with her first before his eyes faltered to her lips where she -- on his essence-coated finger. Unwilfully, he groaned then, the sensation of her warm, wet mouth reaching his . The smile on his face now hung loosely, as if a pulled thread in one's favorite sweater. "Very good. I knew you would guess it correctly. Not on the first try, but you did. I'm impressed."

With an even wider grin, he lowered his head to press a tender kiss to her lips, one that he craved for after parting from them for what felt like days. The remnants of her honeyed substances decorated their kiss, and that brief, momentary taste of her on his tongue was enough to make him salivate. She was, indeed, a million and one more times exquisite than the things she baked. It was his turn now to take her hand in his, slowly sprawling her palm flat against the plains of his abdomen. Her touch nearly the air out of his lungs, but he longed for it. Silas swore it to himself that only she would have all of his permission to make him as weak as he did whenever she placed her hands on him. He further guided her hand passed his waistband, under his boxers until her fingers graced the length of his , causing his breath to hitch, his strength to waver--the muscles in his arm tensing as he held himself above her. It took him a moment to find his composure again, his own palm finally soothing over her smaller hand as he whispered into her ear, "Can you guess what this means?"

His shirt met every item of clothing they’d left back on the floor and Aspen watched with orbs that had darkened significantly from hunger as every inch of the skin on his torso came to light- watered further, wondering what it felt like to kiss his skin, to adore the sculpted body he often hid unless with her, the defined curves and dents of his chest and torso just like he kissed and adored her body. But she figured she would know in due time. They had all night after all.

The curse that fell from his lip, in its most raw form took her aback- she’d never heard him curse so loudly and irrevocably, the word far too crass but truth be told, it was enigmatic as strange as it was to hear it from his mouth. The same curse spilled out of her unabashedly soon after, the tremble in her tone a saccharine purr. “,” she murmured, her free hand falling to the bedsheets under her, it in a tight grip. His calloused fingertips tickled her folds, slipping into the velvet petals with an expert motion once he knew how she liked being touched best. She was sure of it, that his fingers had begun coating with a layer of her dews, messy and dripping like lush honey on a warm summer’s day. “T-that feels so good,” she moaned breathlessly, barely audible to even herself.

As he continued, the more of a free hold and reign he had over her body. Her hips began grinding against his fingers languidly, matching his rhythm in slow . She could feel how slick she was, how easy it was for him to slide inside of her and when his finger delved in, hitting that sweet and precious spot of hers, she cried out. “Silas,” she moaned, the sound almost raw as she jerked against his bed. The words of encouragement to urge him to continue, to get him to just love her even with his fingers died on her tongue, her lips falling open in an incredulous gasp.

Catching her breath, she raised herself on her forearm, enough so she could support her body yet her hand, the one that had found a cuff on his wrist to tug him to her. “You want to punish me,” she began with a purr, raising his fingers to her lips- Aspen dared, one of the rare occasions she felt bold, to open , placing his middle finger on her lower lip. Her tongue darted out to give the tip a kittenish , her tastebuds tingling at the taste of her juice before she took his entire digit in, giving it a gentle before pulling away with a loud pop, shooting him a sweet grin. “By making me beg for you to me, am I right?”

Nothing before had ever prepared him for this moment. He found it difficult to describe the emotion that bleed through his veins and clouded his sanity. Every inch of him yearned to have her, without a doubt. Craved for her like he'd never known of satisfaction. Satisfaction that would only fulfill him when there was no beginning to him and no end to her. When they’d become one. His hot skin crawled with a need to have her soft skin pressed up against his, so he sat up, peeling his shirt off and tossing it onto the floor along with her shorts, finally ridding of the darn thing. Silas’ slow and steady demeanor faded and arose the animal that laid dormant inside the barred cages of his hesitance. The more they revealed their skin to one another, the more his character bared itself to her. It was an act of nature.

His eyes trailed over her figure from where he kneeled. She was beautiful, stunning, gorgeous on the daily-- but by Merlin's beard, she was a piece of heaven stripped from the aurora skies, exposed skin kissed by the sun herself most graciously as she laid there open, all his for the taking. “..” he breathed softly, stunned, gaze falling between her legs. His fingers laxed, allowing her to take control and show him the way she longed to be touched. Silas swallowed down hard, watching, unprepared for the wetness that would coat his digits. If he could help it, he’d allow her to continue and use him to please herself as he’d soak in the sight of her, cheeks flushed, visage saturated with pleasure from her own doing.

“You have no reason to be this ravishing, chérie,” he intoned in a dark voice, lowering himself back down to her. His hand hooked under her knee and pushed her leg upward towards her chest, leaving her more vulnerable than she already was. “Now, let me have my fun.” He repeated her earlier -- but this time much more fluently. His fingers brush against her petal-soft folds, gathering up more of her silk lubricants before caressing her in long, lazy circles. Ah, yes. This was where his fingers were before on that cold winter night they spent together in the Astronomy tower. Limbs entangled, cores ricocheting. Nothing but the rhythm of their bated breaths and euphonious moans filling the air around them. “You still haven’t guessed my punishment. Should I do it more?”

The moment his question was posed, he dipped his middle finger down, easily pushing the length of it deep inside of her all in one go. A low hum rung from his chords as he thumbed her sensitive bundle of nerves, finger already slowly withdrawing from her core. “Any guesses?”

Aspen didn't know where and how he learned to be such a tease, the juxtaposition in behaviors almost giving her a whiplash if not made her core hotter and wetter by the minute. in all their times together, she'd never seen him be so crass, so bold and audacious with his words but here he was, spilling sins and promises of unadultered bliss to her in the most teasing ways. and the effect on her showed, her lips parted in shaky breaths and tongue resting against the parched corner. his kisses weren't enough- she wanted so much more.

"Touch me," she mewled lowly in a gasp, barely audible. and he did, palms and fingers ghosting over the span of her waist and further below over her thighs and pelvis until they rested right onto where she needed him the most. yet the only thing that separated her and his touch was the piece of damp fabric of her shorts. goosebumps rose on her skin, her s perking not only from the cold but the sultry growls he let out- she was his prey, a buffet of the most exquisite meals laid out for his feast. "Silas, my love, please touch me." The whine she let out came out more so as a beg, one for him to take her in any way he wanted- she craved his touch, truly. He was her ambrosia and finest nectar on a goddess's tongue, addicting and ever so blissful. Still, she was far too impatient, they both knew that.

Her chin tilted down to meet his eyes, her lower lip tucked between pearly whites as she reached between her thighs too, pushing the material of her shorts from her core. she knew what he saw there, glistening and clean womanhood, honeyed by dews of her essence. "I want you to touch me like this," she whispered, making a grab for his hand. ever so gently, she began guiding his fingers over her silkened folds, in a sharp breath of pleasure. her leg which had rose to accommodate him between her thighs went slack, resting on his broad shoulder, the spasms of ecstasy that ran through her beginning to rise by every breath she took. "now put your fingers inside of me, please."

Words failed her over and over again, it seemed, as he delved into his ministrations. Her pleas became incomplete prayers to which he longed to hear the ends of. What kind of fervid requests were running through her beautiful mind? Where did she yearn for him the most? Anything she wanted, he would gladly comply. She was ceol a chroÍ, the music of his heart, after all. Whichever note she ached for him to play, he'd strum, eager for euphonic melodies of pleasure to play from her lips.

"You taste so good on my tongue, chérie.." he susurrated in the midst of purling his tongue around her hardened . "I could just eat you up." The filter that safeguarded his mind, all of his most carefully kept thoughts and secrets, surrendered in complete to her vulnerability. Surreptitious words he wouldn't dare utter in the most casual of meetings divulged from his lips without an ounce of shame. She opened herself, body and soul, to his untrained regards. Her submission was a dangerous and reckless act of her doing. Even he did not yet know what he was capable of in these impassioned endeavors. If anything, seeing Aspen this way, the disparity from her girlish mannerisms to the breathtaking temptress she was now thrilled him to the bone. Finding those unexplored frissons that sent her body humming in euphoria was a shiny gold-medal reward enough. And he wanted to do more of it, he wanted more of her.

His eyes opened, attentive gaze on her. "Just..?" The ends of his lips curved up into that sinister smile before he nipped at the rosy peak in front of him, hand coming around to squeeze her other . Burying his nose into books and practicing his charms brought him a great deal of satisfaction but after meeting Aspen, he discovered that fun was found in other things too. Bringing her to the edge of her seat, was one of them.

"Just.. kiss you?" his obsidian gaze flickers up to watch her, just for a brief moment as he presses his lips flushed against her diaphragm, playing out his words. He lowers himself down the slope of her arched frame, the petite fem who trusted him with all of her heart to have her, take her. "Taste you..?" the volume of his baritone voice hushed. Lingering whispers were all part of the game he wanted to play. His tongue slipped against her toned stomach in respect of his words. Silas was growing drunk on the smell of peaches and cream, a rapacious growl building from the depths of his chest. "Touch you?"

The expanse of his palms traveled over her undulating curves, curves suited for an enchantress, a ethereal goddess such as she. She was perfect, in his eyes. Even with her seeming imperfections. Her naughty tongue and a gaze capable of making any person trip over their own feet should they find themselves looking into them. Silas had fallen in love with all of her but even this, he had not yet fully realized. He fitted himself comfortably between her legs, waist leveled with her thighs-- and he slowed definitely, his hand flat against her pelvis, thumb dipping to caress over her clothed in slow, grazing circles. The evidence of her longing dampened his thumb, and he forced himself to hold back a groan of approval-- though arousal heavily tinged his voice. "Is this what you want, my love? For me to touch you like this?"

By heavens, he was beautiful— her thumbs brushed over his high cheekbones, committing every dent, curve and bump of his features to memory. As a little girl, she’d always found fascination in the statues that littered the gardens of the Beaumont Chateau in her hometown of Saint-Tropez; somehow, the one in the middle of the gazebo had always looked like he mourned for love, the kind that only heavens knew with their massive span of wings and marbled visages set into expressive emotions. Aspen had always wondered what it would be like to be loved by an angel — by a god — and here she was, in the arms of a certain boy who was nothing short of.

The flames of the candles that adorned the room, tipped by dulcet moonlight that kissed their skins in blessing danced in the cool breeze that seeped through the little fixtures between the wall and the window, their light kindling a flame akin to the holiest of love in his eyes. Aspen had always found specks of gold in the orbs that stared at her with so much love, but right now, at that very moment, they looked at her with a hunger that burned her own spirit in the most delectable ways. Accentuated by a heavy set of brows and a strong nose, one Nana Beaumont would point out to be very auspicious, he was the epitome of Michelangelo’s David. Yet it was his mouth, that descended on her like the holy water on a sinner, the first raindrop in a desert, that drove her wild; swollen, bitten with arduous sentiments pressed against her skin, igniting her on fire yet was a soothing balm that eased her ache for more.

Her skin stung of love marks that littered from her neck to her collarbone, staining and bruising creamy flesh and she was sure it would last for days on end— still, she’d boast them proudly if it was from him. Pearly whites found her lower lip, biting on it harshly to hold back the lewdest of moans that threatened to spill as she locked eyes with him, watching as he kissed and abused every part of her exposed flesh he could see. Still, the bite was not enough, a small mewl rivalling that of a purr resonating in . “P-please…” she didn’t want to think, words and thoughts, other than him, fleeing her mind.

The cold nipped at the sensitive skin of her s, perking her s into buds of ecstasy that only spiraled the heat between her legs further at the wet sensation of his tongue on them. Her hips rutted against his in demand for more, her hands locking into his hair at the back of his neck to keep him in place— this was a piece of nirvana that she knew and craved. Her back arched off the bed, pressing herself into his mouth further; she needed him further down, where she ached for him the most. “Silas.. Please, my love. Just-”

Whenever she spoke his name, it was as if he was hearing it for the first time in his whole twenty-three years of living. No one before her had ever called for him in the way that she did, and he was glad it had not been another. No other in the world could replace the sweet french lilt that belonged only to her. Most times, he knew her to use 'monsieur Ciarán' or 'mon cœur', but his name seemed to be specially reserved for intimate moments like these. Moments where there were only the two of them, and she seemed to want nothing more but him, and him alone. The rise and fall of her mellifluous voice sounding the two syllables of his name breathed clysmic waves through his being-- yet this particular inflection was intricately laced with an ellipsis. If he was able to render her speechless with just mere kisses, what would become of her if those kisses were elsewhere.. somewhere only his lips alone could reach..? Silas was determined to find out.

I'm already yours.

That cadence made him smile. He had expected her to resist, even just the slightest, but she gave in willingly. Perfect.. The corner of his lips curled gently in response, eyes faltering for a moment to her full brims. Her breath hitched, almost inaudibly, but his ears caught it. Heaven forbid--

Immediately, he fell into the kiss she stole from him. His hand that ran across her thigh came up to frame her jawline like she were a precious picture. She, who he wanted to both douse with the utmost care then rudely ruin with every ounce of fiery lust that alit his body. With fingers pressed against her neck, thumb brushing over that button chin of hers, he drank the honey from her lips, equally delivering plush kisses in return-- ones that spoke all the words better felt than said aloud.

The light graze of her teeth. Her dulcet tongue-- Jesus Christ. An impatient groan eased from his vocal chords, and he pulled away, lips wettish and slightly swollen. It was so easy to get lost when it was her, a vadon he never thought he'd walk through but glad he chose to. For not only did flora flourish resplendently there, he found that he was right at home. But now was not time for a relaxed stroll. He wanted to hear her wispy breath ridden with lewd anticipation as if running, running with him. Her moans, his new favorite melody he could play on repeat for hours.

More kisses, more hungry kisses he gifted to her. The corner of her lips, back down her vulnerable neck. A weak nibble, a harsh on a patch of skin near her collarbone. He left warm, open-mouthed kisses across the expanse of her shoulder then lifted his head to meet her eyes, as if asking for permission to continue. His own breath heavied. "Let's see if.." he spoke in a low tone, voice thick with devilry as a diminutive smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "..you can guess what my punishment for you is."

This was going to be fun.

His thumb hooked over the bunched up fabric of her cotton tee and began to tug it upward, slowly unveiling her s. His eyes kept focus with hers even as he lowered his head to one of her pert mounds, parted his lips, and enveloped her into his warm mouth. First, he kissed it. Then swiped his tongue against the bud with a bold, unrushed lave. God, she tasted so heavenly. Like crème garnished with ecstasy.. She was as scrumptious as the things she baked-- no. Even better. Lids fell over his eyes as he indulged, delivering a few more slow savored and before reluctantly withdrawing, lips flushed and famished, silkened with salivation.. then he moved to do the same to the other.

https://youtu.be/KWTxlxEUneg

Her eyes closed reflexively, giving into the way his mouth pressed kisses onto her body. They were gentle yet in their softness, a burning desire for more than just kisses washed over her, sending her entire soul into a frenzy of crave. parted into a gasp when her leg was nudged further open, hooking onto his waist- the pressure, just like that of a feather’s touch on her most intimate part left her breathless and her hand fell onto the bed sheet, grasping it to force herself not to rut against him. This was so different compared to their first time, the night under the stars and whispered praises that screamed volumes; this particular moment was something they both dived head first into- into a pool of ultimate bliss and give to the other.

She sighed a blithe sigh, nimble fingers that were in his hair tightening unconsciously. “Silas,” she whispered, a holy prayer on plump parched lips. She couldn’t find words to speak- to tell him how he always left her breathless and how he filled her with nothing but joy. She wanted to tell him about the butterflies in her tummy, about the way her heart had long begun beating for him, how his name was the one she would always want to say. But words evaded her then, as usual whenever she was in his presence.

He wanted her.

Aspen’s eyes opened, hands reaching up to cup his face. “Then have me. I am already yours.” Until the skies fall and rid the dark canvas of it’s stars, until the rivers and seas run dry. She didn’t say it, words dying on her tongue as he palmed her thighs, ghosting over areas hidden deep; she was ticklish there and it showed in the way they pressed into his touch further. Her breath caught in as she placed on his into a languid kiss, putting every single meaning and synonym of yes into it; plump tiers took his into pecks of affection before it turned heated, teeth grazing his lower lip before she it soothingly in wait- what would he do?

Her dainty fingers in his hair, curling through every raven lock, was a better feeling than the arrival of the warm spring breeze. That cherished wind that moved through lush, swaying meadows and awakened blossoms from their beds could not compare to the dulcifying touch of the aingeal who laid with him. Any which way she touched him, even he could not deny the reality of it, Aspen's hands had become his nepenthe. A salubrious drug that induced him into a complete state of tranquility and made him forget his worries-- though it had, equally, the power to rouse the most primal of needs in him. It left him starved for her, and he was more than eager to sate his—her cravings.

Silas felt her wriggle in his grasp and being the larger of the two, he took the liberty in further fitting himself between her legs, groin pressed up against the most delicate parts of her. The heat that emanated from her was reassurance enough, and he smiled into her neck, the tip of his nose playing a game of its own against her trapezius. His hand on her waist smoothed down and leveraged her leg up to hook up upon his hip. "I.." he continued for her. "..can't stop thinking about you." His lips whispered hot against her golden skin and trailed a lazy line of soft, wet kisses down the side of her neck, as if she were fragile piece of exquisite glass, a fastened rope he wanted to become undone slowly.. coil by coil, inside of his hands. "You've bewitched me." His careful kisses moved south, nearing her bone, each one lingering and heavier than the last. Yes.. this was what she did to him. Entranced him in this colorful web of libidinous desires. It was theirs and theirs alone. "Aspen.."

"I want you."

He rose up to bring himself face-to-face with her, his forearm near her head bracing him for what he'd find in her chocolate gaze. Even though their bodies may have already hinted at their unsaid needs, he wanted to be honest with her. She had to know just what the sweet tremble of her breath did to encourage the daring man in him to surface. Their first time was his first taste of such a piquant act of passion, and now every inch of his skin steeped with a similar kind of acrasia, except this time it was much more potent and unruly. He gazed into her eyes, almost gently, though his words suggested less inconspicuous things. "If you want me too.. there's something that I think would help us warm up quickly. Just tell me the word, chérie." The calloused tips of his fingers d languorously over the back of her thigh as he awaited for the words to fall from her lips.

She found home in his space, unintentionally invading his bed with everything she had- from her scent to the very essence of her soul. Maybe in a way, she was instilling herself there, imprinting her heart where it had found home and planting her seed into his mind, forever growing there like one of the many aspen trees in the forest back home. Aspen found solace in his scent, that of oak and tonka- it was something no perfume could produce, something so personal to him, to her, that it always made water. In the unholiest of ways.

Her lips parted to make another coquettish remark or banter but the words died on her tongue as she watched him- he looked like a beast stalking it’s way to the prey that was her, a lion waiting for the antelope, as he pushed himself off the floor to begin making his way to her.

“Uh oh,” she breathed, placing her elbows down onto the bed to raise herself. Alas, she had nowhere to go- she was trapped between his looming presence and the bed. Just like the antelope in the lion’s seductive trap. Even as the door shut with a bang, reverberating through the walls of his bedroom and the doors locked, trapping herself inside with nowhere to escape to, her heart still beat for him, a hummingbird’s wings beating against the cage that was her ribs.

Her legs parted to allow him to settle himself between them just as her breath hitched audibly when he sank down in front of her, pools made of dark embers bearing into hers. And Aspen couldn’t help but fall back against the bed, fingers finding his locks of hair at the nape of his neck, stomach flexing as he began kissing his way up.

The cold bit at the skin on her tummy, creating goosebumps down her spine that tingles all the way between her legs. She realized she’d worn just her tshirt and a pair of lace that hugged her hips but she didn’t have time to be modest or shy; he looked at her with fervor, as if gazing at the holiest creature in the world, like a blind man seeing color for the first time ever or a parched nomad befalling an oasis of cool water. Yet it was with so much desire that not only heat pooled between her legs in desire but her cheeks reddened, coupled by a of her lower tier to wet. An attempt to hold back the thirst for him.

The peck that carved a searing heat on her lips wasn’t enough, even when he buried his face into the crook of her neck- it felt like deja-vu, except it had been she who infinitely. Surely, perhaps maybe even, she had tickled the dormant lion’s whiskers. She wiggled into his grasp as he gripped into her waist, pressing herself closer to his body in search for… more. “P-punish me? H-how, Silas?” she asked, breath shaky and quivering with want. “P-please, I... “ she what? Loved him? Wanted him? Ached for him? All of the above.

She pulled away from him.

He was about ready to kiss her again, to draw her back onto his lips right then and there on the dorm floor and feed her the ustulation of desire that coursed through his very being, and she pulled away from him-- and along with that, took the heavy anticipation that bated his breath. How cruel, how mischievous. But that, he should have known. In the days they spent together, her coquettish nature was something he was still learning how to gauge through, and this time it left him winded as he sat there with sad lips flushed, torso reclined and polarized between rising from the floor or falling back to the bitter cold surface. His hands were rid of her treasured warmth, and they atoned for the loss by pushing himself off of where they fell. He had fallen to the ground a few times before in his life, but this particular fall was the most tragic of them all.

The intimation of coyness laced within her question stirred him from his daze, and then it clicked. He knew that she knew exactly what she was doing to him— or playing so with innocent allure. Slowly, he turned to face her. And behind him, with a diminutive motion of his hand, the door that laid ajar sealed into its rightful place, its tarnished lock fastening shortly after. "Muffliato," he recited loud and clear but with a gentle buffer as his eyes fell to her seraphic presence nestled upon the home that sheltered many of his restless nights. One haven which cradled his worries and woes with comfort. She looked perfect there. He knew that if he wasn't careful, his bed would grow to yearn for her too. On wistful nights, it'd cry out for the feather weight of the wingless angel who once saturated its cold sheets with her heavenized warmth. But in truth, he did not mind. He'd long for her too. For her to fill him with her sweet serenity and share the same bed with him, even if they did anything, everything but sleep.

Each quiet step he took brought him closer to his lover. He was filled with stealthy silence like a hunter drawn to his game, dark eyes focused. Cautious. Once his target was within his reach, he lowered himself to her, fingertips grazing the tops of her honeyed thighs, thumbs gripping at the innermost flesh as his knees knelt into the mattress and body fitted with hers. The delicate scent of peaches and cream was overwhelming, but it belonged to Aspen. Never would he ever forget that. Her body was a tree bearing lush fruits, to which he couldn't help but wish to grapple each temptation with his bare hands and take a bite of her piquancy. With nervous heart hammering against his sternum, he dipped his head down to her core, nose nudging away the shirt that stood in his way. And with unrushed care, he sought upward to finish what he intended to do on the floor just seconds before she removed herself. His lips traced petal-soft kisses across every inch of unveiled skin, hot breath tinged with ardor as he stopped just below her s. He then peeled himself away from her to meet her gaze. Out of all the creatures he had come across, the one before his eyes was the one which riveted him the most with just a mere glance. Who allowed her to do such a wretched thing? To take him and shake him up in the most violent of ways in where he no longer understood himself? He only saw himself with her, and everything made sense without making much sense at all. And he delighted in the thrill that came.

"You forgot something on the floor, Ceol Mo ChroÍ." His lips stretched into another smile before he leaned down to return what she had left. A light kiss unto her lips, one of his hands now finding home on her waist. Now it was his turn to bury his face into the space between her neck and shoulders. He groaned with feigned annoyance. "How dare you leave me all cold and alone. I ought to punish you for your heinous crime, Ms. Beaumont."

“Yes, he’s quite a charming man!” she laughed— Aspen didn’t realize she spoke in such a muggle way until she’d come to hogwarts and while she often shied from it, he’d always been more than willing to know that part of her too. It had always been her insecurities, some that he knew of, that made her shy from her true nature, the simple muggle girl who was adopted into a family of pompous pureblood but she liked to look on the brighter side; without the magic world, she wouldn’t have found one of her love in it. “Are you saying that Einstein made me trip and fall? If it’s for you, then sure I agree. But I am only a girl, mon coeur.” she chuckled, cheeks reddening a shade further.

She was plain, far too so comparing to the girls around the school but being told such things made two things clear: her confidence which she’d built over the years rose exponentially and her heart skipped a beat at his honeyed tone. One would think it was empty words, made to pamper and spoil her rotten but she knew he wasn’t a liar- in her time with him, he was a man of actions and words from the soul and nothing less. Huffing a little sigh, she pulled away, instantly regretting losing the warmth that encompassed her body. Her palm placed flat on the parquet floor, face merely an inch away from his and her hair fell to the side like a dark curtain that smelled of peaches and spice. He looked so handsome in the candlelit moonlight, the silver slivers slipping through the gaps between the curtains, warmed by the flames of the candles that littered the room. From up close, she noticed how his gaze was almost liquid pools of chocolate, speckled by ethereal flecks of gold and Aspen found herself almost getting lost in them had it not been for his lips on hers.

Oh, that mouth- the mouth that smiled grins that shamed the sun, that recited poetry and stories to her at whim, that whispered her name like a sacred prayer and that kissed her and every bit and inch of her soul and body.

Her hand reached up to cup his face, thumb brushing over his high cheekbone as he slipped his hands to her tshirt. “Do you want to take it off for me, Silas?” she asked, leaning in further to whisper against his tiers in a dulcet purr. She would have asked for her desires to be sated right then and there on the hardwood floor but she was a vixen of the most innocent kind, she’d been made known this her entire life. “But you might want to close the doors first, yes?” she asked, abruptly pushing herself off of him and to her feet, practically skipping to his empty bed and plopped down on her back, nestling herself quite comfortably amidst his sheets and pillows.

"Einstein? Albert Einstein, the Muggle genius?" Silas knew a fair amount about the man, but he never expected that his name would come up in conversation outside of Muggle studies. Though he remembered that Aspen was not a pure-blood, nor a half-blood in the same way that his mother was a Muggle-born witch too. He had first learned about Mr. Einstein through his mom, and she often compared her son's aptitude in questioning everything to the brilliant man's exhortations about keeping an inquisitive nature. "I can be sure that if Einstein had it out for you, it would only be because he has foreseen that you are bound to do incredible things, ceol mo chroÍ." Now he was, indeed, flattering her. Though she rightfully deserved it. His adulation for her did not stem from blind faith and admiration, no— Silas was pragmatic. And in the budding of their relationship, he had seen the resilience in her that ultimately earned his affection.

He had pondered about it before, during one of those nights they spent without the other, how easily Aspen had penetrated his sphere of social comfort. Although hard-won at first, her unexpected kisses and the way she grabbed for him--as if he were a part of her that had drifted to far away from its home-- it began to comfort him in the best way possible like the warmth to the cold and the cold to the warmth. But as for more titillating matters, like the lingering pressure of her lips he felt on his neck and the current position she had settled herself into— which would give her full rein to do as she pleased. And whether that meant straddling him and grinding herself down and against him in all the right places.. or simply holding her aloof lover captive and stealing all the kisses she could get before he took matters into his own hands; Silas was still a little hesitant. Not because he didn't want her to do all of which she desired, but because he was afraid of what would happen if he allowed his desires to flow from him so unabashed. That kind of intimacy did not come easily for him, simply due to the fact that he was still learning.

But what more did he have to lose? She was there with him now, and he'll be gone, on the train going back home in just a few days. He was always so bold-- at times, calculating-- but SO intrepid he often was. Where was that courage now?

He broke the intonation of her laugh with an abrupt kiss, shortly after her chaste one. And more. It echoed into his thoughts. What she meant by 'more', he did not know but perhaps it was what had already been on his mind since their call. He kissed her softly at first then more fiercely. One of his hands found its way into her hair, fingers languidly slipping through her wet tresses while his other hand clung to the loose fabric of her tee. He hoped it was enough to hint her in but just for safety measure, he smiled and mumbled against her plush brims. "Let's stay here for just a little while longer.."

“Or maybe einstein’s ghost wanted to pull me to you, who knows?” she gruffed playfully followed by a giggle, her breath warm on his skin. There jesting banters filled her with warmth, the swarm of butterflies that laid dormant when he wasn’t around beginning to raise riot again. Somehow, it seemed like such a natural thing, to have those little moments that made her breath hitch in and her heart to skip a beat- then again, it felt natural to be here with him. Even on top of a cold floor.

But she was cozy, a snuggle bug who was addicted to his heat and scent. A little sweet groan resonated in at the squeeze, pressing a kiss to his neck right below his ear where his pulse beat in reciprocation. “I miss you too,” she whispered, nipping at the skin there for a brief moment before she allowed herself to pull away from doing much more damage. “And you sound like such an old lady when you’re nagging. It’s cute but can you really blame me for wanting to be in your arms? You’re right though, you did promise cuddles in bed. And more.” she laughed, lifting her head enough so she could press her lips onto his, pecking him gently yet in that one little gesture, laid such heavy nuances.

"Is that why you're all the way down here, aingeal?". Whether his question was posed to or charm her, it was unknown. It could have easily been both, and it probably was. His expressions were like that, in respect to ambiguity. Nothing was ever as it seemed, and words were no different. It was those who spoke them that had the power to instill and produce meaning in the things they said. The pout that fixed itself onto her cherubic visage, he found adorable and wanted to kiss it away, but she began to move and he took it as a cue to move and get up off the floor too.

But before the expanse of his palms could even plant itself onto the ground, he fell back down with Aspen still on top--although this time, the impact of their bodies was not as catastrophic as the first. Rather it was gentle with her bringing them together again and snuggling up comfortably. Silas follows suit. His fingertips find the small of her back before he winds his arms tight around her, pressing their cores up against each others'. "During that short time part? I did," he confessed in an amused whisper. "Your nose is cold-- Are you not freezing in just a t-shirt and shorts? You really were pinning me to be the one to warm you up, hm?". She was naught but a koala, clinging onto its tree for dear life. He didn't mind at all, now that she was here inside his arms. "Although— trying to get warm on the floor probably isn't the best idea.. It's going to get colder, and I'm not sure if we're going to survive the night if we just lay here-".

the thud was loud, an impact done due to their both weights combined and she winced as she felt the floor brace against his back, eyes shut tight. Was he hurt? the laughter that bubbled from his lips, rumbling in his chest in soft roars, she lifted her head from his chest, cheeks reddened not only from the cold but from embarrassment. “hey, not my fault gravity hates me!” she pouted, removing her wet hair from his face. maybe she should have actually gotten dressed properly.

“But I’m okay now,”she nodded, the pout not lasting for long— it never did, with him around. a small smile crept at her lips, body shifting slightly so her knees were at his side and she could nestle quite comfortably on top— as if cradling a big teddy. “Warm and cozy.. missed me?” she purred, leaning forward to kiss his cheek once before burying her face into the crook of his neck. ah, this felt so good!

"Ohp--"

They toppled over with a dull thud.

What he thought would be a gentle tug discommoded them both as they found themselves on the floor, having toppled over in the rapidity. Perhaps he had pulled a little too hard. But what with Aspen nestled safely atop of him after their mishap, the pain that came from his back colliding with the cold, hard stone floor was nothing but a light nibble from saoirse whenever she was cross with him. a light singe, albeit bearable.

His arms were tucked around her smaller waist to secure her in place, which must have happened instinctively during the fall. A few damp strands of her sable dark hair scattered over his face and neck. Oh, how silly this entire situation was. While the door hung abandoned, slightly ajar, a gruff laugh erupted from Silas, his lungs recuperating after having the wind knocked out of him. "Are you okay?" he susurrated with a chuckle, reaching up to remove her hair that covered his lips. "I know I said for you to surprise me, but I didn't know you'd do it like this."

The door opened, revealing his entire looming presence. Silas had always towered over her in several heads and while it was sometimes intimidating, the gaze and charisma he came with, she found it cute how he did resemble a tree at most times. Her very cute comfort tree.

“H-hi!” she exclaimed in a shiver, breath coming out in a fog of warmth- the cold nipped at the tip of her nose and plump cheeks, reddening them as if the ripest of tomatoes. It was such a juxtaposition of her usual peachy flush but then again, she’d decided to foolishly brave the cold. She didnt have time to say much, his hands making a mad grab at her to pull her in. his urgency was valid- they couldn’t risk getting caught but in the rushed dash, none of them were looking where they stepped.

Aspen blamed her two left feet, but it might as well have been gravity- the force he’d used to pull her in was rough which made her crash into his chest and the impact itself was enough to cause them both to tumble back down onto the floor, her petite body framed against his. “Oof!” her arms wrapped around his shoulder, face buried into his chest while her eyes shut close, bracing herself for the impact— oh god, this would be so embarrassing!

The moment the call disconnected, Silas doubled checked his desk to assure that none of his notes or books were out on display for her curious eyes to see by chance. Then he went to work on clearing the floor. Piles and rows of books lined the shelves that he and his roommates shared when they were here. Luckily they had all gone home for the break.

A few filed papers neatly tucked away and a tossed stray sock in the hamper later, the room was finally presentable. Not too clean, not too shabby. Just as he was about to question where she was, she knocked on the door, and he flew to open it-- a bit too hasty, but Silas towered in the doorway with his usual stoic mien.

"Chérie--" he greeted. Then his gaze fell to her minimal attire. Jesus. She was close to bare in this 2 degrees fahrenheit weather. He reached from her hand and quickly pulled her inside after doing a split-second scan of the hallway. They couldn't risk getting caught.

Indeed, the trip to his room was short- she remembered his roommates being gone for the holidays so she wouldn’t have been teased by them much less have had to sneak around with him but still, there was strict rules in place- she wasn’t able to fraternize like she did this late at night.

Her feet were bare, bare legs bared to the cold and no matter how much she pulled her oversized tshirt around her body, she was still too cold. Her arms were wrapped around her torso and she was hopping from foot to foot in an attempt to rid the cold but alas.

She quickly made sure the charm was off of her, glancing around to spy on any prying eyes and satisfied at her own spy agent abilities, she raised her knuckles, rapping thrice on the wooden door in wait. Hopefully, heat came soon.