She was affected by him, and it was pleasant to watch her skin awaken under his touch, the same way it had calmed for the glass she'd given him. He drank more as she went along with him, like petals on the lake, moved in the whirl of the koi. Her hand felt like a trophy, like he'd lassoed in something vulnerable and trusting. The play they'd left between them fled when she asked him an always present question. The glass stood on the floor, by some volition, and his eyes darkened. One became obscured by the hair she'd unsettled with her caress. Tilted Cyclops, having brought her to his cave. Why should she be afraid, indeed.<br/><br/>"Aren't I?" he asked back. From this intimacy it might as well have been a sweet nothing, but the offended wrinkles around his nose, an awakening wolf's face, was not so adoring. This was an old problem that they'd never solved. His hand locked harder onto hers, and the other caught her other before it could leave him, pressing it to his cheek. He tried to have some comfort while he looked at her with displeasure. He was trying to read her in some new way. Maybe to find an anchor as the deep swells in his diaphragm became roaring.<br/><br/>"Then you're not seeing me." he said, and it was supposed to be a saddened exhale but it became something ground out between teeth. He was becoming the other thing that he was. A fatigue over their drawn out conflict stole some of his resolve to keep her safe from his other faces, and he pushed into her, and locked his arms around her after letting go of her hand. "Isn't all civil things just for the people outside?" he asked, and the issue made him fantastically mad. "It's not for us. I don't feel civil. I don't even feel decent."<br/><br/>His eye narrowed as he lifted her to set her onto his hips, so he could carry her. With her legs around him, she became unforgivably drawing. He had vengeance and her insides on his mind. He tossed her into bed and it might have felt like passion to her, but he had other hungers too. Roan stood by the edge and then pulled her ankle toward him. Towering spirit of neglected impulses, burning bright, finally. He was being rough, he would be leaving bruises. He laid over her, and the impact might have left her without breath for its force.<br/><br/>"Maybe I'm this man." he said, looking at his own mind and the flaring thoughts. He took two hands to her collar, and started ripping it. His eyes were saddened and infuriated to see her skin uncovered, like he was parched for her breaths and owed her touch. Out of nowhere and unstoppably, like the lick of water over the dock during turmoil in the sea, his hand rapped over her face. His breath was faster, and what apology lived in his eyes was eaten but dark delight. He breathed, again through incisors. "I can bear it, you know, but I need you to see me." he muttered, hand in her hair to pull her head back, deeper into the bed. "Why can't you just admit that there's badness here, between us?"