Post by Sigrid Arsenievna Romanova on Oct 27, 2021 17:03:23 GMT
[attr="class","main1"] Loving hands applied gentle pressure to exhausted shoulders. Tender kisses eagerly found home along a partially exposed collar. Crimson nails tugged at the fabric obscuring precious skin from deserving attention. His attention had strayed from the book in hand and weary eyes had closed by whispered instruction and partial bliss. Siri stood behind his chosen chair for the evening, heavy copper locks cascading over her shoulder and onto his as warm fingers tangled lovingly in silk curls. ”I hate that Grandmother couldn’t be here long enough to watch all the things we’re about to do.” She hushed, a strange sense of regret resting atop bright features as a hand slipped between warm fabric and the soft skin of his chest. At least she would be rightfully buried alongside her family and not kept in cold storage like Maria and Alexei. ”In just a few more months we’ll be reuniting her with Maria and Alexei and removing the church from power. We’ll be settled back into Alexander Palace where we belong. Think of all the trouble Thea will get into in those gardens.” Gentle laughter passed between husband and wife as she placed a kiss on his cheek. ”And us- we’ll be enjoying the lights of St. Petersburg in the distance from our bedroom. . . while preparing to hold our son in our arms finally.” A delighted smile forced its way across cherry lips as she waited for him to put the pieces of what she’d said together.
Post by Feodor Ashur Romanov on Oct 27, 2021 18:04:44 GMT
[attr="class","main1"]Taunt shoulders bound bones and flesh together in a vice of strict posture - the pressure of literal obligation in the movement of bodies and forces from one camp to the next - one he wasn't afraid of instructing at his own hand. How Grandmother would've expected him to sit idle in an ivory tower and issue orders was beyond him and entirely out of his character. Not when blood on a blade shone a far more violent, lush crimson when brought from cold skin at his mercy. He would not leave his revenge to soldiers without names. No, the price was his to claim. Still, it didn't do well for the posture not the mind as quiet moments grew few and far between. There never seemed to be enough time to devote to an adoring wife and the light to his shadow. His sun to his moon, and everything inbetween. The soft moan of relief at her touch and the pull away from academia at the sight of copper curls settled his heart and every muscle from neck to shoulder.
"It is a shame." A prideful smile laced with pure adoration and admiration turned upward at her words, her ambition unmatched by anyone other than himself as the pair shared a dream that would rattle the world. Fingertips tangled together at the shoulder in tender reply at the mercy of laughter and kisses to crimson nails against cool hands. A kiss to the side of slender palms as she hushed words of their future with delight.. His response equal in vehemence his smile grew wide and bright at the sight of hers, the instant shuffle form merch and onto feet so he could place both hands about her naval eager yet steady as their eyes met in the space between crimson walls and marble floors. "Our son?" A breath of exuberance and excitement as frozen blue crashed into liquid gold. "Are you sure?" He breathed with hopeful inquiry,, knowing through logic a seer would have granted them the truth but fears for a future without her grace and companionship remained forever a fear behind typically stoic features. To Sigrid, however, remained a sort of vulnerability and fear about a future without fired curls and heavy breaths upon conquered lands.
He brought her close with the steady pull of arms about her shoulders, laughing quietly as he pulled her closer for a kiss. His words hushed and sweet, like honied whiskey on ice. "We'll have everything we dreamed off." A kiss to her temple that lingered heavily with pulled breath. "A world at our mercy... the world as it should be." He brushed aside a copper ringlet to reveal the perfect porcelain beneath - starlight captured in the evening air. His palm lay to the opposite cheek of another kiss as words fell quiet into whispers and honeyed purrs at the ear. "With you at my side." Parted fangs pulled at exposed skin, Fingertips trailed the exposed beneath soft fabric to pull her close, halted laughter cut short by widened smiles at the rise of bliss. "Я тебя обожаю" The edge of his thumb sought to part cherry lips to meet his own. "Душа моя" They shared breath. "mой свет." and once more, "mоя жизнь." His weight lowered down, to meet a heightened bump growing heavy with life. Bundles of dress fabric taken gracefully in patient palms. "Take it off." To the trail of touch to show what lay beneath. Arms removed from around shoulders and to wide hips so they could rise with the return to full height once shoulders became exposed, and so bodies could meet without prisons of fabric to keep them parted.