A/N: This was written some months ago, and later given to Nuitsongeur on livejournal as an apology for being late with her gift for the Princess Tutu LJ community's Secret Santa Exchange.
Sometimes Rue is surprised by the changes in her Prince, since he regained his heart. Certainly, he is still the same person she has loved since she was a child clothed in black feathers and he a piece of story that could walk by her side and chase away the crows. But there are details, now, to the theme she's known for so long. She wants to learn them by heart, so she pays extra attention when he catches her off-guard.
For instance: the way his eyes are glazed over, bright with need, when he half-opens them as she breaks the kiss so she can lean her forehead against his and catch her breath.
She moves over him uncertainly, still not used to fitting herself around him quite like this. Her hands slide up his arms to his shoulders, as she thinks of nudging him back a little for better leverage. But Mytho is already leaning back, and his palm is warm against her spine as he gently takes her down with him. That's new too.
When they've finished, he's flat on his back, still clutching her hips with fingers that tremble from the exertion, breathing hard enough that his own hips keep rocking softly into her, echoes of their previous movement. Rue lets herself sink into him, heaving deep breaths of her own, and lets go of her grip on the pillow next to his head so she can brush the sweat-soaked hair away from his face. She studies his flushed cheeks and the way his lips curve up, and thinks of the time she took him and hid him away, wanting to make him hers alone, only to see a lifeless puppet when she asked him if he loved her.
She traces down the side of his face, and he threads his fingers through her hair so he can pull her down and press a smile against her cheek. Rue sighs into the skin of his neck, and reflects on how much she likes the changes in her Prince.