Pearl's hips still. She whimpers with the effort of keeping them so. Ungraceful in the way she's folded up in Rose's lap, but as tense and focused nevertheless, as if she was holding a pose for ballet. With Rose as her only audience. Her audience and her strictest coach, even if the touch and the words are relentlessly soft now.
A small quiver runs through her frame as they kiss. For all that Rose is being gentle, it still overwhelms her like a breaker wave, roaring in her ears. Gorgeous: Rose thinks she's gorgeous: she wants to be that gorgeous pretty girl, that sweet toy. It's like Rose has her soul between her teeth, tugging and pullling, wrung out gently. And that's melodramatic, maybe, but fuck: if Pearl has one thing to be melodramatic about in her tragicomic piecemeal of a daily life, it's this.
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Pearl's hips still. She whimpers with the effort of keeping them so. Ungraceful in the way she's folded up in Rose's lap, but as tense and focused nevertheless, as if she was holding a pose for ballet. With Rose as her only audience. Her audience and her strictest coach, even if the touch and the words are relentlessly soft now.
A small quiver runs through her frame as they kiss. For all that Rose is being gentle, it still overwhelms her like a breaker wave, roaring in her ears. Gorgeous: Rose thinks she's gorgeous: she wants to be that gorgeous pretty girl, that sweet toy. It's like Rose has her soul between her teeth, tugging and pullling, wrung out gently. And that's melodramatic, maybe, but fuck: if Pearl has one thing to be melodramatic about in her tragicomic piecemeal of a daily life, it's this.
"Yes," she says again.