[ Shadowheart remembers few details of her undercover missions for the Cloister, but she senses a hazy echo of them in what the two of them are doing, here. She knows she's slept with marks, before; she knows detachment serves her better than any kind of earnest interest.
But Shadowheart is interested, even if she manages to smooth her interest into something cool and coy on the surface. The wine sparkles on her tongue, not too sweet, and she observes Silco with mild curiosity as he sifts through the racks of clothing.
She supposes the set he chooses must reveal something about him, or at the very least reveal something about what he thinks of her. Truthfully, it's similar to pieces in her wardrobe here: sleek, flattering, and simple, as he says. There's not much to glean from it, at least at first glance. ]
Not a bad choice. I like the back. [ She sets her glass down so she can touch, though she doesn't take the garments from him, rubbing satin and then mesh between thumb and forefinger.
Shadowheart could tell him to sit, or ask him to turn around, or retreat behind one of the velvet curtains to change. She considers each, and instead unhooks the panties from their hanger, leaving Silco with the bustier. ]
Would you hold onto that, for a moment?
[ Less of an active role than lacing her corset or helping with a necklace clasp, but Shadowheart doesn't think he'll be disappointed. She turns her back to him and bends at the waist, stepping into the bikini with her heels and dress still on. As Shadowheart pulls it up her legs to sit snug at her hips, her skirt bunches up with it, revealing pale thighs and the sweet curve of her ass--well-muscled, but a little softer for having spent a month in relative comfort, no longer walking miles on foot each day. She lingers in the reveal, a moment, before she arches her back to stand tall again, and smooths her skirt back down. ]
no subject
But Shadowheart is interested, even if she manages to smooth her interest into something cool and coy on the surface. The wine sparkles on her tongue, not too sweet, and she observes Silco with mild curiosity as he sifts through the racks of clothing.
She supposes the set he chooses must reveal something about him, or at the very least reveal something about what he thinks of her. Truthfully, it's similar to pieces in her wardrobe here: sleek, flattering, and simple, as he says. There's not much to glean from it, at least at first glance. ]
Not a bad choice. I like the back. [ She sets her glass down so she can touch, though she doesn't take the garments from him, rubbing satin and then mesh between thumb and forefinger.
Shadowheart could tell him to sit, or ask him to turn around, or retreat behind one of the velvet curtains to change. She considers each, and instead unhooks the panties from their hanger, leaving Silco with the bustier. ]
Would you hold onto that, for a moment?
[ Less of an active role than lacing her corset or helping with a necklace clasp, but Shadowheart doesn't think he'll be disappointed. She turns her back to him and bends at the waist, stepping into the bikini with her heels and dress still on. As Shadowheart pulls it up her legs to sit snug at her hips, her skirt bunches up with it, revealing pale thighs and the sweet curve of her ass--well-muscled, but a little softer for having spent a month in relative comfort, no longer walking miles on foot each day. She lingers in the reveal, a moment, before she arches her back to stand tall again, and smooths her skirt back down. ]