So, a bit of history on the plot and relationship between the nord Sindri and the khajiit Khepri. In the time mine and Stary's role play starts its already been a month or so since Sindri took over leadership of Riften's guards and rooted out those with connection to the thieves guild. Or at least suspected to. And in the start, Sindri is quite racist towards the beast races (khajiit and argonian). He was raised like that after all, nords aren't kind to non natives really. But between him having more interactions with a mix of different races his bigotry is perma killed (especially when he starts to realize his is so far gone in his attraction to Khepri it gets hard to think). I'm sure my friend and i will explore nord racism onces Sindri is actually introduced in the role play. And that will probably lead me to writing out drabbles about it.
As for their romantic relationship Sindri is quite the romantic, if a bit innocent and honest. Khepri, being far more cold and cynical finds it hard to comprehend or get a handle on Sindri's pure feelings towards her and lashes out through her prickly nature and teasing.
Not for the first time he looks upon her feline face, her arched and eerie eyes and the sway of her hips as she stalks towards him and fights the urge to run and hide, or fall to his knee's. Instead he looks on, enraptured and trapped as always whenever the Khajiit looks his way.
Sindri swallows thickly, his adam's apple bobbing. She is so close and this is so very, very public. The argonian bar keep is eying them from across the room with a shake of her head. And he almost screams, pleads for her to help him because oh Talos she's touching him, her hands are uncovered. It was her off time and she isn't dressed in those fine, worn leathers of hers.
She wears a cotton blouse and quilted vest that lifts the valley of her-oh god, no, he isn't looking at them, he isn't!
Sindri shoots his sight to the ceiling and clumsily hits his head on the wall Khepri has pushed him against. She's still looking at him in that way she does that send his heart thumping against his rib cage and leaves his stomach doing flips. He doesn't dare look down at her as she give him that all too familiar smirk. She has him exactly where she wants him and it is both horrifyingly embarrassing and makes him feel things he's never felt before.
"Khepri is curious pale-face," there is a mocking tone to her gods be damned attractive accent. He feels the heat on his cheeks, his neck, he knows she sees it to. His blush is obvious on his pale skin. But she calls him that derogatory name anyways, a payback for all the slurs he's called her since learning the infamous Skyrim Thieves Guild Master was a dirty cat.
"I wonder what your precious followers would think if it got around you spend your free time following around Khajiit women all day?"
He grits his teeth and glares down a her, he curses the damned woman.
"I do not-"
"The Bee and Barb is under Khepri's control. Keerava reports any unusual activity to my people." the spotted Khajiit hissed, though it wasn't threatening. "She has mentioned a man coming in, always at this time and staring at her Khajiit customers."
Sindri tries to hold back a shudder as the hand holding him down by his chest as it crawls up, he can feel her claws through his own tunic. The brush of her soft fur as it cups his neck. His blush deepens as her claws scrape the back of his neck harmlessly.
Her eyes twinkle is some devious emotion when he bites his lip to keep a pathetic sound from escaping and shudders, as always when she dares to touch him.
"Tell me, were you waiting for Khepri, or have you simply discovered a new kink?" she murmurs.
Sindri doesn't answer, can't answer. She's closer than ever, her body pressed against his as she stands on the tips of her toes to reach his face. Her scent of leather and pine overriding all thought. His mouth is left a gape and unable to find the words to answer.
Her gaze is overwhelming.
He doesn't know why he was here anymore. She does this too him. Makes him lost for words, all manners and common sense. Control is foreign to him, she plays him like a lute and he has no idea how to fight it.
"I-I...uhhh..."
She chuckles and he feels it down to his very core. He feels hot, everything is too hot. He breaths in nothing but the scent of pine and leather.
"Cat got your tongue, Sindri?" she purrs, purrs.
His skin is on fire he feels an uncomfortably hard bulge has developed in his trousers and the mortification shows on his face.
There is a distinctly satisfied look on Khepri's face, her lips twitch into that devious, amused smirk before their is a yank a his belt-a strangled whimper does escape him this time-and then a jingle of coin.
Suddenly Khepri is not there invading his space, the air is clear of her intoxicating scent.
Her back is to him as she holds up a familiar coin purse and all his good sense returns to him. He should shout at her, arrest her. But all he can do is hold himself up with the wall at his back.
"Poor Guard-Captain, Khepri has no pity for men who loose themselves to a pretty face." she mocks. She turns her face away and all he can do is watch her walk. That teasing sway to her hips he is as familiar with as the back of his hand. And just as always, he is left watching, transfixed and hot, and 100% ruffled.
When the twice damned thief is out the door and the bar keep-Keerava he recalls-sets down a bottle of ale with what he thinks is a pitying look on a nearby table, he smacks his head on the wall with a groan.
Yet again, the woman he's vowed to bring in for justice has left him a panting mess and he has no one else but himself to blame