<div class="floatleft">(https://i.redd.it/qf3ohgvvtkj01.png)</div><strong>NAME:</strong>Helena: Huntress<br/><strong>WEARING:</strong>Oversized, white, off-shoulder tshirt (https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/51kmm1csi1L._UL1000_.jpg), Black boyshorts.<br/><strong>DAY:</strong>Friday, August 21<br/><strong>TIME:</strong>5PM EST<br/><strong>LOCATION:</strong>Back in Brion & Helena’s shared bedroom<br/><strong>CONTENT:</strong>Chilling with her roommate; a forbidden kiss<br/><strong>TAGGING:</strong>Brion; Closed<br/><hr/>Brion was being so.....confident, so sure of himself but without the toxic trait of arrogance woven within. He looked at her, made direct eye contact and never faltered, never hesitated in correcting her mental doubt. It was as if he didn’t need to pause and try to make something up, hesitate in a lie, and Helena found herself actually believing his words almost as much as he clearly believed in her. He brought up Batman but it was done in such a way that it didn’t rise her irritation or anger, and for the first time since she had walked out of that training room over two years ago she felt a moderate measure of peace. Brion was right: Batman was the epitome of what humans could do when their home was in danger and their resolve was unbreakable, and if such a man saw potential in her than she needed to stop being blind to it as well.<br/><br/><em><strong> “So if anything, I believe that you underrate yourself. We are all still growing and learning. If half your passion and commitment to fighting crime rubbed off on the team you'll have improved it immeasurably."</strong></em>His gentle ending brought a small smile to her face as her gaze dropped. Brion released her shoulder and took a sip of beer as he joked, and her grin expanded so high it actually reached her eyes. Looking back up at him then, those intense pupils under such thick jet-black lashes, she realized they were physically closer than they had ever been when not fighting.<br/><br/>Leaning forward, Helena pressed her forehead to Brion’s, branding a mental connection between them as her eyes closed and she exhaled smoothly through her nostrils. There was clear hesitation on her end, an act fueled by beer-induced inhibitions, his words of reverence, and the reigniting of a relationship that surpassed a level she had never really anticipated from him. Of course, Brion was a handsome man, but he was a Prince, a creature of immense power and wealth, and one with a pure heart for justice. Helena had never put any form of interest towards him because there was never one to be expected in return. She was a poor little orphan, abused and violated as a child, who lived alone in New York—they were worlds apart. But as their foreheads touched and the soft tips of their noses grazed the other, she began to put the pieces belatedly together.<br/><br/>The words, the commendations, the support, the patience, even the smaller acts of getting her snacks, and buying her the small gift of the sketching pad. They had all been missed actions with an underlying interest sent to her and rudely knocked down by her own stupid foolishness. Helena’s gaze dropped intimately to Brion’s lips and she inadvertently licked her own, the pink, wet muscle whetting the bottom and upper fullness of her mouth as she turned more fully towards him. And suddenly, everything about the moment.....everything about<em>him</em>..... was perfect, and just like that Huntress and GeoForce were in sync....or so she thought.<br/><br/>Without waiting for a look of permission, or invitation, Helena raised her right hand to Brion’s cheek and tilted her head upwards to connect their lips together in a soft, testing kiss. The part of her brain for logic and reason was whispering to stop, whereas the impulsive side, muscled and emboldened with hops, screamed for her to advance, to conquer and take, to no longer live with regrets or questioning doubt. Palm on his cheekbone, his facial hair lightly scratching at her soft skin, fingers curing along his ear, Helena held him tighter as if to prevent him from retreating from her and kissed him harder, now pressing the entirely of her mouth against his.<br/><br/>And he tasted delicious: like citrus and divine masculinity, Helena hardly wasted time in slanting her lips across his, tilting her head lightly to the side and rising a bit more on her knees on the bed to face him. Her other hand joined to fray to wrap around the back of his shoulders in a tight embrace, her naked breasts pressing against his chest through her thin shirt as she seemed to jump from Level 1 to Level<em>Fuck-Me-Now</em>in 5.7 seconds. But there was a thread of drunken bravery in her actions, made even more apparent when she parted her lips to deepen the kiss. A soft sound escaped her as she did so, inviting Brion to do the same, and if he did he would taste the malt of her seduction.