fe_male | memeboxing

[ It's something that she certainly quite enjoys, the knowledge that she managed to provide enough physical sensation to him that it overrode his ability to actually form coherent words, and given how very good he is at talking she feels that's a pretty good level of skill to have reached, even if it can still (always) be improved on. She comes back to herself a little after him, shifting to pull slightly free of him so that they don't have to move again for a little while, sinking into the mattress and keeping her arms around him, tilting her face into his neck and breathing out slowly.

She wants to thank him, for everything, for the distraction and the warmth and the way the memories pushed to the forward have receded again, enough to grant her a little peace.For the moment, though, she just presses her lips against his neck and keeps him close. ]

[ That's all good. He's more or less completely fine with that. She shifts to one side and he just enough to the other to mean that he can lie next to her, more or less. It's not a complete switch, but enough to where he's okay enough with relaxing completely, without worrying about smothering her or what-have-you. He doesn't typically worry about that sort of thing anyway, but even so. ]

More enough, right? [ Because he just can't not talk for long. Apologies. ] That felt like more enough.

[ She hmms a little bit into his skin and moves with him well enough, settling in next to him. There's a long pause and then she smiles slowly, nods. ]

More enough. [ Tilting her head back just enough to look at him. ] You're always more enough.

[ Excellent, good - he'd hate to lose the touch so quickly anyway. Getting so much and then going down to nothing? Sometimes that works. Sometimes it's the desired course of events. Usually, it just makes the low hit that much harder. ]

Usually I'm more than enough, anyway. And I don't even completely mean it like that.

[ He doesn't need to worry about that with her. The touching is almost the most important part of the intimacy, the being physically close to someone the thing she used to miss most and is always going to be looking for. She's not likely to leave him alone after sex unless it's something he decides he wants, and even then it'll be reluctant. She's far too fond of resting against him and feeling the warmth of his body to be happy leaving him.

A tiny snort of almost laughter. ] How do you mean it exactly, then?

Apply your imagination. You know what I meant. [ Handwave, some sort of gesture to accompany whatever it is he isn't actually saying with that, whether because he doesn't feel like it or didn't know where he was going with the train of thought anyway in the first place. ]

Mmm. Mr. Eloquent, right here. [ But she sounds more amused than anything, resting her head against him, fingers running gently back and forth across his bare skin. And after a long moment of silence, abruptly and more seriously. ] Do you ever wonder why us?

[ Yeah that sure was abrupt. He wasn't really expecting to suddenly get all existential or whatever she just did. ] Why us what?

[ Chewing over what she wants to say in silence for a long moment as she runs her fingers across his skin, decidedly not looking at him. ] Why we got all this shit to deal with.

[ He has literally no idea how to reply to that. ] Karma?

[ She generally prefers not to think of herself as quite that bad, but she has to admit it's not - inaccurate for her. (Not for him. Never for him.) ]

I don't think I like karma.

I don't think anyone particularly likes karma, except people who sell kitsch tchotchkes and maybe people who technically ought to be on the lower end of the scale. Everyone else likes to think it's their own hard work paying off, or - [ Hand wave. Who the fuck knows. He doesn't, and he certainly falls into the second category of people, except he doesn't, because he knows that and therefore doesn't like karma, but whatever. ]