"You're certain that you're comfortable with this Aya?" Yusuke's voice was gentle, soft; so much so that she may have mistaken it for his slightly hitched breath had he not have been stood so close to her. His fingers hovered above her pale skin, patiently awaiting permission to touch.

It had always been like this.

Even back during that first encounter, when Morgana had hurried through Madarame's shack to open the gaudy door, leaving Aya to distract the young protégée; he had been the same. Quiet, gentle, considerate. Never turning around until she shyly whispered she was ready, always stopping himself a moment before took her hand, his deep dark eyes probing her pale one's for consent even as he guided her long limbs into whatever pose he envisioned for that day.

No matter how many weeks passed, no matter how many times she laid herself bare before him, Yusuke remained as tender as ever.

"Please Yusuke, don't mind me, I'm fine. Really." The timid reply seemed enough for him, as with a satisfied grunt he began to work.

He began with her arms, his touch so light it sent goosebumps shivering up Aya's side, as he guided it over to her round, pert breast. A small smile graced his otherwise serious face as she moved to cup it, her fingers already understanding which position he would find most appealing. Slowly he began brushing over her hand with his fingertip, carefully tracing the shapes left between her fingers, nudging them just slightly further apart so the point of the small, hard nipple was exposed. Unconsciously Yusuke began to hum in satisfaction, his small smile growing into a full, seductive smirk.

Aya felt her own small smile grow at the sight of that, the same way she always did when Yusuke showed his approval. There was just something about that smile, the way the corners of his mouth just gently teased away at his seriousness until it had no choice but to fall away. She loved those lips, the way they pressed together when he was focused, the surprised way they parted when he laughed, how soft they would feel pressed against her sweet spot.

Could he know the effect he had upon her? The way his sudden touch teased her senses, how his intense, unwavering gaze caused a unbearable heat between her thighs. Did he do it in purpose? Aya mused, did he draw out this process in order to torture her, knowing that her budding frustration would lead her back here, ready and desperate to pose for him, again and again. Surely he had to have noticed the growing wetness that was slowly beginning to encroach from her thighs to slide down her long legs.

No matter how she tried, no matter how many times she convinced herself she was there only for the sake of art, could she shake the image of yusuke from her mind. At times like these, where he worked diligently to perfect her modelling, she thought, not of how she should stand, or of what expression he'd like to see, but instead how magnificent it'd feel if instead of tracing her breast with his fingers he took her nipple in his mouth instead. if instead of guiding her legs slightly closer together, he plunged his fingers deep inside her, assaulting her walls with his strong, dexterous movements. If instead of asking her to model, he pinned her against the wall and fucked her hard and fast, his fingers digging sharply into her hips as he desperately thrust into her, before he moved them to assault her clit. She pictured the fire in his eyes as he groped her waiting breasts, the seriousness fall off of his face, replaced instead by snarl as he pumped harder and faster, she heard his deep throttling moans and the screams he would elect from her. If only-

-"Aya, are you alright? You look a little uncomfortable." The heat from her core rose suddenly to her face instead, how much had he noticed? Flustered she stepped back, abandoning her pose to cover herself instead, desperately trying to distract him from the sheen that had settled not only over her thighs, but also down her legs. How could she have been so stupid, thinking about such things as he stood right infront of her. God, if he ever found out about her creepy little obsession, he'd laugh himself silly, if he didn't avoid her completely.

"I'm sorry Yusuke." She choked out, her voice strangely strained. "I-I have to go."

"Aya? What's happened, did I do something wrong?" He sounded puzzled, and reached out to grab her small hand as she turned away from him. But Aya was already grappling with her clothes, desperately hiding her shame behind their folds. "I'm sorry, Aya, if I offended you just tell me how and I will avoid it in future," he pleaded softly, a note of hurt infringing upon his bewilderment.

"It's fine Yusuke," she mumbled, pulling her arm away from his grip, "I just-I just forgot, my mother said...I have to go." Tearing away from his grip she bolted towards the doorway.

"But Aya you've forgotten your-" But the small girl was gone, her footsteps were slowly fading into silence, leaving Yusuke stood in his doorway, dazed and holding her black, lacy bra.