If she were every afraid to get close to anyone, it would be Vulpes Inculta.
He was cruel and merciless, rough, callous.
But she had limited options, especially since she was compromised.
"You look ridiculous."
"And whose fault is that?"
He flinches as she tugs on a particularly tough knot holding his breastplate to his skin and she takes satisfaction in the small show. He glares at her and she chuckles, rubbing the spot harshly with her thumb. He relaxes, the pain agitated out of his skin by hands that would rather be wrapped tightly around his throat, choking the life out of him - and back to the fact of being compromised.
"Your doctor wants you to come in tonight," he shrugs off the cuirass, discarding it on the desk nearby.
Gehenna straightens her back, digging a knuckle into the small of her back and arching into it. "Thank God he called in a night visit," she straightens herself the best she can, face uncomfortable as she runs a hand over her swelling belly. "I couldn't leave the tent today, it was too hot."
He hums as he places his boots to the side, running a hand over his buzzed skull. He looks back as she gives a barely audible whine of pain; she had only begun that over the past month. She eagerly takes his hand when he offers it, stomach fluttering when she thinks of what he is offering. Caesars orders, obviously, she knows he would not do it otherwise. Caesar wants no stress and gentle care for this baby, wants to breed a fine warrior from his best spy and the greatest asset.
"Ah yeah," she groans, feeling the gentle press of his thumbs run up her spine; a tingle shoots across the back of her neck.
She can almost see him roll his eyes.
He didn't like soothing her pains, her aches. But he had magical fingers. And that brought on a whole 'nother tingle. As did the firm yet gentle suckle he placed to the back of her neck. Her eyes flutter and she leans back into him. He also had a magical mouth, something she had admitted proudly to Arcade, who was equal parts jealous and angry.
Oh wait, Arcade.
She groans, peeling his hands from her ribcage; the air hits the wet spot left by his mouth and she instantly hates Arcade.
"No fair," she grumbles, angrily putting on her sandals.
Vulpes watches with mild amusement, wiping away the shine from his bottom lip. "Do you need an escort?"
She shakes her head. "I just need you to be here when I get back," she points at him.
And there's that smile, the one that scares her. Because its genuine and sweet and she wants to rip it off of his face. She's scared because she thinks she loves him. Because he does things like this, he smiles at her so openly, touches her so tenderly. But she should know better - she does know better. She doesn't need to get attached and he doesn't love her.
...he never will.