[private] There's the rub [Warrick]

[Ceara]

let me pick your brain, girl.
and tell me how they got that pretty little face on that pretty little frame.

She cannot helped but be charmed by him. The ever adoring uncle—except he was not blood related to her in any way. She had always admired him from a far, watching him exercise his goodness and strength for others, seeing how he cared for them. And she had waited for the time that she could approach him not as a child, but as a woman.

And now that the time had come, she finds that she is pleased. His physique is perfectly matched to suit her own. He is large and broad where she is lithe and lean. He is cut and corded, where she is soft and curvy. And those shining blue eyes that lay under an unkempt mop of thick black hair—eyes that were finally resting on her body with an appreciation that she knew her body pleased him. She smiles coyly, playfully nipping at his shoulder as she prances lightly in place. His thick voice murmurs quietly to her, and she draws close to him again, suddenly quieted, her facial features resigned. “You are so serious, Warrick.” Her voice is thick, her mood exaggerated.

She is teasing him.

She kisses his cheek lightly and steps back, unable to believe what she has just done. A warm flush rises over her face and settles in her toes—but her eyes are ever vigilant, trained on his body. She does not know what she is doing, but she knows what her heart is saying….and she suddenly feels sick to her stomach. “I know you will do a fine job. You would not have been chosen for this great honor if you were not ready.”

Her eyes are shuttered, and she finally remembers herself as a child of two former rulers. Warrick has wisely changed the subject, kindly enough to let her out of her embarrassing situation… though it should be obvious to him now that her secret childhood crush is a secret no longer. Her breast rises and falls, and he asks after her.

Nodding, she smiles, her nostrils flaring. God, he smells good. “I am very well, thank you. The days are getting longer and I find that I often come to the beach just to stare at the waves. It is something my mother often does.” Suddenly he asks her to swim, pumping his corded muscles forward in her direction, asking her to join him for a swim in the waves. Ceara’s throat goes dry, and her heart is in her ears when she hears herself agreeing reluctantly.

Swimming. With Warrick. She was going swimming with WARRICK!

Somebody pinch me!

ceara

offspring x reagan, smoke healing & fire negation