Inspired by my own shortcomings.

Mass Effect and all associated characters belong to Bioware. I make no money from this fanfiction.


She's so sensitive she can hardly stand it.

He comes to bed, fresh from a hot shower and burning with desire. She pretends to be asleep.

"Siha," comes his soft whisper, a warm palm restign on her shoulder. She doesn't stir, but he knows. He can tell by her breathing that she is avoiding him under the guise of rest.

With a quiet sigh, he shimmys down by her side in their bed. She's not in the mood tonight. It's been weeks since they made love and in moments like these he scorns both her and himself. How selfish that she denies him her body. How even more selfish of him to think he's entitled.

Many times she's said it's not him. He is no less desirable than ever, and yet his touch nauseates her.

He recalls the last time, his lips moving over her breast, her forced murmurs of pleasure. He can hear the pain in her voice when she whispers for him to stop. "Don't worry about me," she soothes, a sad smile on her lips. Slowly, she parts her legs for him, strokes his length, wills him to get something from their failed intimacy.

So he does, his body wills him to, but his regret in the aftermath is overwhelming. He doesn't understand why it feels good for her then, how she cries out beneath him and clutches desperately at his shoulders, but doesn't climax. Doesn't even come close. Every woman is different, this he knows. But how is he to handle her? It tears her up as much as it does him. Two souls struggling for everything in the midst of war, and he can't even please her.

He loves her. Every day he fears to share with her this revelation, afraid that she doesn't feel quite the same. For him, for all drell, a person is only whole when the body and soul are in harmony. He feels her disconnection, her unease and shame as she shifts beside him, still awake, still pretending she's not. In the end, it's not just his physical intimacy her body refuses, but his heart as well.

All she has to do is let go. Let go of the anxiety her body brings her, let go of her fears and just be. But these are things she holds close, he knows. As afraid to live without them as she is to live with them.

She is not ready to let go tonight. Maybe another night, but not this night. His arm settles across her waist and he pushes a soft kiss into her hair. He will be ready when she is.


Thank you for reading!