Warmth emanates of her, an alien heat you've never felt. Her skin is tinged crimson through smooth clear grey and for a moment it feels like nothing you ever experience will come close to this moment shared in silence with the most important person to you. The intimacy of your arms wrapped around your matesprit is a sensation, and you take in her essence- the smell of wild berries and thick black curls that flow of her head in a cascade, and you want to bury your hands in it and curl it but the natural ungroomed look she carries around is beautiful already, so you stay quiet and press yourself closer to her. Others scorned you and acted disappointed for taking a member of the lowest caste as a matesprit, and eventually you had to leave the highblood areas where you lived and moved further into areas populated by humans to avoid harassment- but it was worth it for the feelings like this, warmth and comfort and intimacy and one thousand words compressed into the silence of an evening of roses and candles. Nervously, hoping not to disturb the comfort your matesprit found in the velvet sofa, you press up closer to her and tentatively wrap your arms ever so gently around her waist. Her eyes flicker- gorgeous eyes with long eyelashes and passionate red, and she closes her grip on you ever so slightly causing tyrian pink to dust your cheeks while you sink deeper into the cushions and crook your head against hers.
You're honestly not sure how this happened- but you're certainly not complaining. Never had you thought of yourself as someone worthy of the presence of a heiress let alone the presence in one's quadrants, and it almost giddies you to feel her coldness mingle with your warmth and blend to become a silky medium. It feels good to have her there, speaking nothing, only the pressure of her silky, perfect skin on yours. The colours she dresses in are foreign and beautiful, vibrant opposites to the chrome tones you adorn yourself with, and the jewellery she wears accentuates her passionate clothes and personality leaving you breathless at her beauty. You search for her hands under the blanket and clasp them in yours, beginning to trace the lines on her fingers with yours, and her smile twitches and you hear a faint ticklish giggle from her. You trace the lines faster, and the giggles become louder and longer, and you begin laughing in turn with her.
"A-aradia, that tickles!" she splutters under giggles and wheezing
"Do you like it?" You inquire as you begin to tickle between the gaps of her hand and she nearly erupts in laughter.
"Well, if this is how you want to play it, I declare a tickle war!" she shouts, and before you can form a coherent response she worms her fingers to your neck and tickles it furiously, and you do nothing but begin to squeal uncontrollably as you lose grip of her dainty, flexible hands.
"You made your coffin!" she yell as soon as you let any leeway and before you can react she begin to move her hand over the back of your neck while you burst into jubilant laughter, smiling one of your wild big-grinned smiles you know she loves so much.
"No fair!" you cry out, and you topple you over, searching for her weak spot until you identify it as her elbows, and begin tickling there relentlessly, as she meanwhile tries to find your vulnerable point- eventually ending up with you in a massive tangle of hair and limbs and exhaustion and laughter as you find your limbs from behind her back, and reach over to her neck to plant a slight kiss at the base.
"Red for you, Aradia."
"Red for you too, Feferi.
