Wheeling Gull Isle wet

his preening brought her body calmness, as he'd planned to do. and though her mind whirred, she fell beside him easily as he pressed against her. and then, suddenly, he stopped, and rested his head upon her.

there is no shame in saying no.

he was right-- there wasn't. and if she wasn't ready to give up her flower to a total stranger, she didn't have to.  and it was only when he stopped that she began to sort through her own thoughts, trying to decipher what was a real, coherent thought, and was what merely there in the moment. her mind proclaimed that saying no was sound logic, and since her memory wasn't all there, it made more sense to her that she keep waiting. she wasn't ready-- not yet. but her body was not her mind, and it had learned to appreciate the touch of a man long, long ago. so, despite her logical thought process, aria could not find the words no. she remained silent, her head turned to study his expression as his head rested upon her back. he was not here to pressure her, and this choice gave her body even more power over her mind.

so, after a considerable amount of mental convincing, hormones won her over-- or, something of the sort. she nodded, whining again-- softer this time. this was okay, she was okay. whatever mental barrier stopping her was slowly crumbling-- and she was easing into the idea that this was okay. maybe it was him, how he was so gentle and not at all pressuring-- maybe that helped. that thought itself sent a wave of deja vu rushing over her-- though she couldn't pinpoint why.

in case her whine was misinterpreted, and perhaps a subconscious act of impatience, she pressed against him again, ears pivoting to cup forward. 

she was ready.