gentlemenpreferblondes: (On your humble flat)
J. M. Austen ([personal profile] gentlemenpreferblondes) wrote in [community profile] thisavrou_log 2016-10-12 08:30 pm (UTC)

She had hoped that the bone she threw to him in her last remark would have been enough to steer the conversation towards them instead of focusing more on Aurelia. She wished that it would have been enough to catch his sense of humor or cheekiness and make him joke about being a knight in shining armor for her or something like that. Something more lighthearted than his ramble about Aurelia.

She presses her body against his back and moves her hand away from his and lets it to run across his stomach, toying with the fabric of his shirt as she places more light kisses on his neck. To be honest, the thought of running into Aurelia terrifies her. Not only just because of her threat, which J knows to take seriously but also it'd mean she'd have to actually face what she had done. Their relationship has always been a strange one, each of one their encounters surrounding around death. First with the hunting trip back on Ceta and then meeting her in Del Pascia covered in blood of her victims. The only thing that's changed is that now she's the one who's --

-- a murderer.

J stops her hand movements when he says that word out loud, feeling the weight of the truth on her shoulders. Guess she really takes after her mother more than she first thought.

does it bother you what she calls me? She eventually writes to him while still keeping her arms around him. you dont like the idea of me being a murderer?

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