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Thread: Games We Play (Sybella)

  1. #21
    He'd almost forgotten the purpose of the kiss, and in some parts if the purpose instead had gotten miscontrued. He had a job to do, like her, but that was growing increasingly difficult. The kiss persisted, intensified by her reciprocation, and their proximity was brought as close and intense as when they had formerly been dancing only instead of a tease, it had a very real purpose and aim fueled by a combination of their desires.


    Before he could even realize he said the words, they came out. "Have dinner with me tomorrow." He knew their time now was drawing to a close. He had no real plan involving them going out on a 'date', the suggestion just kind of happened, and he had to roll with it as far as it would go now. Their was no hint of letting her have her space, as if his looming presence would steer her towards the desired response. No room to deny him. No room for him to mentally argue why he shouldn't do what he was doing, and rescind the offer. No room for anything, on either side.

  2. #22
    Her eyes widened slightly at his invitation, her brows furrowing in confusion. Dinner suggested conversation and intimacy beyond the physical relationship that had flourished between them. She gazed deeply into his eyes, leaning back a measure as she contemplated his offer. It was unwise, considering the plans she was to be setting into motion within the next couple of days; she had the instruments of her mark's downfall at the ready and thus had no reason to delay. Once her mission was met, she would return to Umbara and probably never see Gunnar Dryden thereafter. What harm could come from delaying just a bit longer and enjoying herself, then?

    "All right." She agreed smoothly, running her hand across the muscular plane of his chest. She was caught up in the appeal of him, her emotions shutting down the cool logic that had kept her alive thus far. "You can pick me up at Grande Plaza Hotel tomorrow at seven o'clock." One of her mentor's rules, never reveal to an unknown factor the location of your temporary residence. "I'd better get back. Qurvo will be missing me." She murmured, slipping away from him and into the thick crowd of club goers. Her heart raced, tripping to the rhythm of danger. She would see what Gunnar would do with this trust she had placed in him.

    And if he betrayed her, she would destroy him.

  3. #23
    Small victories were what kept him believing he was doing the right thing, and not taking his ruse too far. Dinner might have been too far, but he justified it by finding out where she stayed without having to tail her, and risk exposing himself. The place she stayed suggested wealth, and really spoke to the capabilities of the organization she worked for. It was likely far larger and more organized than anything he had ever been a part of. And now he worked independently. It was better that way, avoiding the situations Sybella found herself in presently.


    He walked to the Grande Plaza, because a walk to their destination would be more personal he believed. That, coupled with the district she stayed within, and finding a fancy location nearby was easy. He arrived approximately five minutes early, but lingered just long enough in the lobby to cut down the time he was early by to instead be prompt. At 6:59 he was knocking on her door. She'd seen him in nice enough clothes, but he went all out for the sake of her and their destination, a black on black on black, shirt tie and jacket combo.


    He was of course armed, a shoulder holster beneath his jacket with two individual blaster pistols. Going out without them, would be like shedding a regular necessary accessory. Outside her door, he posted a single arm up on the frame, tipping his head downward, listening for her approaching steps.
    Last edited by Gunnar Dryden; Apr 24th, 2018 at 11:23:31 AM.

  4. #24
    Nimble hands swept thick strands of navy hair into a half-up, half-down style; pinned in place by a bejeweled comb, the blush colored gems of which gleamed with the same opalescence as her dress for the evening. Periwinkle eyes drifted toward the displays set up in her closet, running feed from the micro-cameras she'd set up in the lobby, elevators, and corridor leading to her temporary residence. She had watched him linger in the lobby, clipping an ornate set of earrings into her ears, and she had watched him wait in the lift as it rose toward her floor. He always looked good; but this evening, he had pulled out all the stops.

    She was just slipping her high heels on when he appeared at her door, the automatic apertures of the fine cabinetry sliding closed to conceal her tech. Grabbing her clutch, which contained a hold out blaster and a few other small tools of the trade, she approached the door and opened it. There had been no knock and so when she opened the door, she feigned surprised delight. She drank in the full sight of him, admiring the way the suit he wore hugged his musculature just right. "Hello, handsome.." She purred, the hand not supporting her clutch extending to brush against his ebony tie.

  5. #25
    No words. He had no words the moment she opened the door, and he saw her. He knew she attractive, sexy would even be a better way to describe her, but her appearance that evening was literally stunning. He had no words and no actions. Her greeting was answered only with that stunned, "Wow." Her banded, the best word he could mentally describe her outfit, dress exposed her skin in all the right ways that would draw his focus to her taut abdominal muscles, which framed their way up to the curves of other parts of her body he found himself even more aware of then he had the night before.

    "Look at you." And look he did. He reached out, taking her hand from his tie gently, guiding her to give him a spin. When she turned, he saw the musculature of her back, a certain definition that was not masculine, but definitely reflected a level of fitness that he found sexy. There were people in the galaxy, xenophobes, who might frown on the color of her skin and this intermixing of races, but he found her entirely exotic. "I better not take you anywhere too crowded, someone might try to make off with you." And he truly believed that. He wanted to keep her close, private. He almost didn't even want to leave.

    "I guess we better get going, reservations and all." He begrudgingly conceded that she had gotten dressed for him to take her out, not gawk at her for several moments until she realized just how much power she had to hold him as her thrall. His arm offered her a gentlemanly escort out, not the kind of side that would have been seen by the Arms Dealer, Bounty Hunter, Club Owner. All the guises he had put on, and that might have been true. He took her out the lobby onto the upper levels walkway. The restaraunt of choice was just far enough to not be at the Hotel's lobby, but not so far that they couldn't have a walk to enjoy each others company.

    Those upper level walkways, while not entirely private, still gave them the space to walk together unimpeded and without the feeling of necessity to be quiet out of some sort of misguided shyness. Idle conversation kept them, the general kind to warm them up to the idea of a night together. The restaraunt didn't have as many tables as would be expected for such a large establishment. There was easily room to cram more tables into the middle floor, but they opted against that to put favor towards the more secluded booths. They had just the same, where a sheer curtain arced from the middle at the top outward, bunched together where it was tied, then draped. Privacy could be extended by letting the ties out, but until their orders were taken and delivered no such thing would happen.

    "Was that dress a work expense? I have to wonder how many times you've worn it." It was fancy, very fancy, and she was young. How many opportunities had she had to show off in such a way. Was he the first? The booth itself they sat in was a curve three-quarters circle, but he didn't aim to sit across from her but rather had moved in on the same side as her when she sat. He turned, draping an arm across the back of the seat, and lifting a leg up just partially onto the booth seat. It helps him angle towards her, so he could talk at her and look at her while still keeping that personal proximity.
    Last edited by Gunnar Dryden; Apr 24th, 2018 at 11:23:45 AM.

  6. #26
    Sybella had been fawned over before for her beauty, her reaction always being outward gratitude while she kept her unimpressed attitude on the inside. Hearing such praise from Gunnar, however, invoked an entirely new set of reactions from the half-Umbaran. He twirled her about, his eyes taking everything her strappy evening dress had to offer, and she felt rather embarrassed and pleased with herself all at once.

    "They could try." She replied under her breath, tilting her head and offering him a slight smile. She slid her hand into the crook of his elbow and allowed him to escort her from the building. It was a short walk and he did not want for her attention, despite the fact that she seemed to take in every passerby with shrewd interest. She kept up with conversation and even went so far as to probe him for more personal history, always respectfully of course. People in her line of work understood very well the necessity of privacy.

    Eventually, they arrived at the restaurant. She lapsed into silence as she took in the opulent surroundings. It wasn't the kind of place her mark would be caught dead in and thus she had grown unused to the finer things while infiltrating his glorified gang. She sat next to him, pressing her thigh tightly against his own and sliding him a slow, secretive smile. "It's true that my organization foots the bill for a number of my ensembles. But, this dress I purchased earlier this evening with you in mind."

    A finely dressed waiter appeared at their table and she ordered a red wine without looking at the menu. The man nodded and then waited for Gunnar's drink order before departing.

    "I can't say that I've ever been on a real date before."

  7. #27
    Living the lie shouldnt have been so difficult, but it was. She questioned him on his background, and he was forced to lie and lie some more. He could derive some of his story from truth, but he had to be careful. It had actually required practicing, truly telling himself who he was now, instead of just letting things come naturally. Fortunately, his rehearsed story was passable, probably because she was genuinely feeling something for him and no longer as closely scrutinizing. That was good, in at least some sense.

    It should have been mission accomplished, or at least on track, but he wouldn't let himself think of it like that right now. "Bring a bottle of her selection and two glasses." He opted to take the same direction as her for beverage, flipping the food menu open with his right hand, but not letting it steal his attention. "Well here's to hoping I don't make your first experience a terrible one." Without their wine delivered thus far, he took his water glass and gave it a tap to her own atop the table, following that pseudo toast up with setting the drink down to the side.

    In truth, while he had taken women out before and made small talk, she was something different. She came from a similar world as him, and small talk hardly seemed sufficient, but so did discussion on their work. It left him a bit unsure of himself, a feeling he wasn't used to. In his uncertainty, he did what he wanted to avoid. "Plans moving along? How much longer will you be here?"

    -------

    A pair of Jasst's thugs waited in an alleyway off shooting the path Gunnar and Sybella had taken, catching the pair passing them for the restaraunt. It didn't seem as if they had been noticed, but that was easy with how distracted by each other the pair seemed to be, and how little of time they found themselves in actual line of sight of the two. The two could have their dinner, and then when complacency had set in, they could take her. For now they waited, a different pair of watchers now in place so as to not let the two feel a familiar set of eyes witnessing them leaving the restaurant.

  8. #28
    Her first experience with a real date was far from terrible. They touched on work matters only briefly, in which she informed him that she planned to move on her target within the next two days; suspending further details due to the public setting they loitered in. Dinner was delicious, he was so good to look at, and she probably drank more wine than she should have. Once the dinner was done, their check settled, she linked her arm through his and allowed him to escort her from the premises. The night air rushed over her flushed face as the automatic doors to the building shot open, a soft chortle of amusement escaping her as the sudden gust teased a few tendrils of her long, ink-and-navy hued hair.

    As it happened, high heels were significantly harder to manage with the wine she had imbibed. She leaned heavily into his arm, hip-to-hip with him as they strolled down the boulevard in the direction of her current residence. "I wasn't planning on sticking around after all things were said and done. But, I guess I could lay low here for a while with the right incentive." She murmured, more to herself than to him, a thoughtful expression in place. She swirled a strand of hair around one finger, canting her head back to peer at him; completely oblivious to those that watched from the shadows of the building they passed in front of.

    "Did... did you want to come up?"

  9. #29
    He’d gotten close, just as planned. Wined. Dined. Flirtation. It was the end he should have seen coming, and he even wanted. He didn’t want it just for the physical pleasure of it though. His plan was forgotten for the time being, wrapped up more in the moment than what was to happen. Mav’s little test. These upper levels were not as prone to the same dangers as the lower levels, but occasionally more organized groups did stray up top for specific purposes. It was in those instances that law enforcement was usually scarce for one reason or another.

    He hadn’t seen the entryway to the apartment building up ahead the way he should have, figures loitering at the door, or the bench across the way, even the rail overlooking the large chasm down below. “Sure.” It was around that time he did notice the group of men just ahead standing or orienting towards them. He focused forward more than he should have, unaware of the alley flank that held a few more men.

    “We need to have some words with the lady.” He held back a knowing expression, as it clicked who these men were. Instantly his mind rolled over the possibility of a different plan, one in which he saved her, and gained her trust further through that. “You’re ruining date night. Try leaving her a message.” He remarked, and yet chose to make the first blow. However just as he took a cheap shot at the leading thug, others came from the alley. Two speared his side, taking him off balance and causing him to sidestep a few paces.

    He dropped one elbow into a man, before he lost his footing and was taken down. A foot lashed out, striking a jaw, and he gathered himself enough for another charging thug. He dipped, went for the legs and lifted to toss him down the chasm behind the rail, only to be swarmed by three other men. He couldn’t see what was happening with Sybella, working to defend himself and find some form of purchase or freedom to make a stand from.

  10. #30
    We need to have some words with the lady...

    Damnit. She hadn't even seen them, hadn't heard them skulking about. What was worse, her back was to them as she had turned to ascend the steps of her temporary dwelling. Her eyebrows knit together as she silently ran through the motions of forming a plan. It wasn't like Gunnar, not that she knew him all that well, to take their interruption without recourse. The sound of fists meeting flesh caused her to whip around and she let out a gasp as he was taken to the ground by Qurvo's goons.

    "Boss ain't pleased, pretty bird. You know you belong to him." One of the men not involved with the fight whistled, watching as they wrangled Gunnar and began dragging him toward the railing where they intended to pitch him over. Her heart hammered, the first instance of this sensation since her training days. Too deep, too consumed with whatever this was. The sirens should have gone off far sooner than this.

    "Take me to Qurvo, leave that poor sap alone. Not my fault your boss can't satisfy my appetite. I'd like to tell him that to his face." She ground out to the man who addressed her, pasting a disinterested look on her face as they paused their struggled heft of her date.

    "He's going to kill you, you know?"

    "You'll be joining me once the enforcers catch you on the cams of the hotel. Leave him be and let's go." And without a backward glance spared toward Gunnar, she headed in the direction of Qurvo's headquarters. She didn't flinch as she heard a few more choice blows fall upon him, enough to set him down in case he had it in mind to pursue. At least he was alive, which was more than she might say for herself in a few hours time.

  11. #31
    It was difficult to process the conversation Sybella had while struggling against the men threatening to pitch him over the side. His heart thudded in his ears as he put all of his strength and ferocity into fighting himself free, his body choosing fight in that moment of fight or flight. From his blindside he was struck violently, stars exploding across his vision and blackness creeping in from the edges. Again and he fell to the floor as they released him, the pavement he looked down on blurring until he went unconscious from another series of blows that he didn't even feel.


    Inhale and exhale, the process went uninterupted as the rain continued to come down until the water level rose enough that he inhaled water, causing his lungs to force his mind awake suddenly and for him to sputter and cough in a desparate gasp for air. He turned over onto his back, blinking his eyes against the rain drops that fell on his face. He looked to the last place he remembered seeing Sybella. Gone. They had come for her, and it was all starting to come back to him.


    Qurvo. He remember the name. Where they were based out of, and he also remembered being the one that might as well have set this up, though he hadn't expected it to come so soon. He rose to a stand and shed his torn jacket, loosening his tie and tossing it aside. Qurvo knew enough to get Sybella into trouble, but the job wasn't to get her killed, and even if it was he wouldn't have wanted that by now. He oriented himself to the nearest turbolift, then jogged off in that direction, perhaps too hastily and ill-prepared but knowing time was too much of the essence to make a stop back and procure some weapons.

  12. #32
    A completely unfeminine snarl tore from Sybella's lips as a fist collided full force with her abdomen, both winding her and causing the resounding displacement of the ribs when the blow impacted. Her eyes clenched shut but only for a few moments, reopening to focus with the promise of hellish retribution on none other than Qurvo, himself.

    "Pretty bird, you disappoint when it comes to loyalty; but, you've held up well enough under pressure that I am willing to forgive and forget. All you have to do is say you belong to me, only me, and maybe we can get some bacta on that sweet face of yours before you scar." He drawled, picking the blood from beneath his finger nails with the knife he'd been tracing over her skin earlier. Considering her situation, it wasn't a bad deal. The assassin dangled from a crude chain and a pair of manacles clasped to its length, her arms stretched into a blindingly uncomfortable position over her head. Her dress was torn to rags, bruises and trails of blood marred her lavender skin. That, she could probably deal with. If Qurvo knew what she was actually on about with him, he'd already have done away with her. No, he had no idea. She could reset, act contrite until she was prepared to strike again. But, pride...

    She wasn't ready to let that go yet.

    "I wouldn't crawl back to you for all rainbow gems on Gallinore, Qurvo." She bit out with a saucy smile smeared with her own blood.

    "You stupid b-"

    "Boss!" The chamber door banged open, the metal echoing against the dripping duracrete walls of the basement room he held her in. An underling tripped inside with a com-link clutched in his hand. "Something going on topside. We've got men down on floors three and four." Qurvo let out a growl and reared away from the blow he'd been about to deliver.

    "Watch her."

    He snatched the com-link from the underling and waved his personal enforcers from the room, leaving just the messenger to watch her. Some of the tension fled from her arms then, causing a loud pop to emanate from the joints. She hissed and swiveled her stare toward the man. Promising... but she still didn't like her odds.

  13. #33
    Thump

    He let the body slide to the floor as slowly as he could manage the dead weight to mitigate the noise. His hands quickly snatched up the man’s blaster rifle, placing it aside in favor of a quick pat down. He stripped the man of a com-link and utility vest, which he searched to find a spare energy cell and vibroknife, and donned it overtop his button up. The body was quickly dragged off behind an empty rack and into some shadows before Gunnar snatched up the rifle.

    He prowled the upper levels of the building, dispatching guards as quietly as he could as he went. His face, hands, and even garments were tinged with blood but with no clear indication who it belonged to. The com-link chatter intensified as guard check-ins were missed, until it became evident that a threat was present. With the guards now on alert, the element of surprise and close quarters combat was put on the back burner.

    He shouldered his rifle and led every turned corner with it, popping around one and double tapping a guard. His partner turned and drew up but took two bolts to the chest. Gunnar redirected to the nearest turbolift and once called stepped in and hit the two floors above. He stepped out, pried the doors open, and used the internal service ladder to descend to the bottom floor.Once on the basement level, he pried the turbolift door open just enough to peek through the gap, before pulling it open further and rolling himself out onto the same floor he had identified Sybella was kept based on the comm chatter.

    He paused outside the room she was kept in, waiting, listening. A shadow passed across the light emanating from the door, just one. No sounds of conversation, only nervous pacing. He surmised there was likely only one person within the room. He threw the door open quickly, procuring the knife from his vest and throwing it at the man. It impacted his shoulder, and Gunnar was quick on it’s heels. His hands went for control of the knife, which when he reached the recoiling man drove it in deeper and the man against the wall. He yanked the blade free in a hurry and cut across the man’s neck in a fluid motion that left him crumpling to the ground.

    Breathing heavily, he moved towards the strewn up Sybella, lifting her chin and checking her for responsiveness. “You alright?” He questioned, giving her ample time to respond before he went and freed the chain suspending her from the wall. He kept tension on it to support her as he moved closer, reeling it in so her arms had the pressure taken off them, but she wouldn’t spill to the floor. When he was certain he could catch her, he relinquished the chain and scooped her lithe frame into his arms to give her time to stabilize. “Here I thought the night would end with me tying you up, not some other punks. You really know how to end a night with excitement, huh?”

  14. #34
    The events that unfolded not long after Qurvo left the room were not ones that she expected. At first, she thought it might have been her captor coming back to finish what he started. She was relieved and shocked to find Gunnar was the one who entered, a combat knife whistling through the air and impacting the shoulder of her guard with a satisfying crunch of flesh and bone. The man barely had time to breathe let alone absorb what just happened before he was on him again, sliding the weapon along the man's throat like slicing through a stick of butter. Sybella shuddered as blood gushed from the horrible wound and then the body of her only guard slid with thud to the floor.

    Bleary eyes sought Gunnar's in the darkness, his rough hand grasping her face with the utmost gentleness. "I've... been better." She admitted softly, her face leaning into his touch before he removed it to address the chain suspending her. As she was given more slack, the sensation of pins and needles flooded down her arms only to be chased with fire as blood rushed back into her limbs. She hissed again, sagging unceremoniously into his arms as the last of the chains fell away. Her head rolled back against his shoulder and she grinned with a smear of blood on her lips. "Got to admit, I would have liked that better. What a lucky girl I am to have found myself a knight in shining armor."

    She flinched as she flexed her fingers, burying them in his shirt. "I have a safe house. We have to get out of here.... he will probably be back soon."

  15. #35
    Gunnar bent his knees, gently easing himself beneath her so she could settle into his arms. He held her until she could stabilize. “Here I thought you’d want to just kill them all right now.” And yet he knew she was probably in no state for it. He waited until her feet were solidly under her, then procured the weapons off the slain guard and wiped his blade across the man’s clothing before sheathing it. The second weapon was given to Sybella, and he led them out of the chamber. He kept always a few paces ahead of her, letting her watch his back but checking their corners and altogether taking the lead.

    They managed to escape mostly quietly, and at that point Gunnar deferred to her with directions. She took the lead, moving them down the alleyways that would keep them off the main thoroughfare where Qurvo might have eyes and ears. He didn’t doubt at this point the man realized she was gone and was sparing no resources to track her down. Upon arrival, he let her unlock the door, then quickly stepped in before her. Routinely he moved through the apartment, checking for any places someone might be lingering, waiting for them. “Who knows about this place?” He asked, curious what chain to follow if someone showed up unceremoniously.

    Confident the safe house truly was safe, for the moment, he set his rifle down beside the bed and returned to Sybella. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” He took her hand, offering her stability as she moved towards the refresher.

  16. #36
    Escape went better than expected, she imagined Gunnar must have taken precautionary measures to assure as much. Infiltration of such a facility was well beyond the realm of a mere weapon merchant's expertise and she was sure to keep her eyes trained on him, when they weren't occupied with sweeps of the hallways behind them. Once outside and under significantly less duress, she double checked to make sure they wouldn't be followed before directing them to the safe house she had set up. Far from the hotel that served as her secondary base of operations, the ramshackle apartment building really was the polar opposite from what one might expect Sybella to pick. The locals liked her well enough and disliked Qurvo even more; both bonuses adding up to a more effective security system than mere cameras and locks. She had those too, though.

    "No one."

    Rather than coming in the front door of the building, she led him up the emergency ladder that ran along the face of it. Her arms and legs shook with the effort it had taken to climb by the time she reached the roof access. There, she punched in a 20-pin code and scanned her right eye before the advanced mechanism sprung to admit them. It was a short jaunt down the steps to the loft unit she occupied. The door opened, with additional security measures bypassed, and only once she crossed the threshold did she allow herself to sag against the wall. The gun he'd given her was dropped onto a entry hall table and she stumbled into the open floor plan of the apartment. Kitchen, living room, bedroom all shared the same vast space. A single refresher was the only room sectioned off, really. Technology was scattered across table surfaces, counter tops, and crates; all in some semblance of partial assembly.

    She took his hand when it was offered, her gaze unwittingly conveying gratitude and something else...

    "You.. are the best, you know? Can't say I've met many men who'd come rescuing someone like me from the jaws of death like that. Ever. Kind of suspicious..." She said but from her tone, he could gather she was joking.

  17. #37
    Her smaller hand was enveloped in his large calloused grasp, but he bid her with a surprising gentleness towards the refresher. Once there, he sat her down and wet a cloth. “Someone like you, what’s that even mean?” He wasn’t really focused on her eyes, or her expression with that statement. Instead he was searching her face with his free hand angling her by her chin, where he would gently dab at bloodstained areas to check for still open wounds.

    A prepared woman like her, he knew, was sure to have a med kit closeby. He retrieved it, putting the entirety of his focus into treating her and ensuring there was no lingering less seen injury. Her limbs were palpated to check for possibly fractures. “I really liked this dress.” It was unfortunate because in the state it was in, it wasn’t worth salvaging. Because of that, he didn’t concern himself overly much when he plucked his combat knife and easily tore through the rest of it to remove the rags that it was without forcing her to move unnecessarily.

    Her felt at her ribs more gently, already seeing the formation of a darker area of skin that suggested bruising, then reached up to feel at her neck and spine. From the medkit he retrieved a couple bacta patches, applies them to her ribs, then a small tube of bacta. That he spread onto his thumb, then carefully applied over cuts and bruises. “You’ll be fine. Nothing a little rest won’t solve.” His eyes just barely cut upwards towards her, from where he focused on applying bacta. “Some date huh? You show all the guys such a good time?”

  18. #38
    "It means that my work usually only affords me the occasional one night stand. Not a daring rescue from one of the sector's most notorious crime lords." Sybella replied, her brow furrowed in such a way that expressed her confusion at having to explain. Still, the rest of her face remained lax as he swiped the wet cloth across it. She watched him depart from the refresher briefly to find the medkit she had stashed in the larger room beyond, contemplating just how bizarre his appearance tonight had been. No one had ever done something like that for her, not even another member or handler from her organization. If one died on a job then one was weak and would be replaced by someone stronger. She would live to fight another day, despite her near fatal mistake of letting him distract her.

    I really liked this dress...

    She looked down at the shreds that remained of it, sighing deeply. "A shame, really. I could have another commissioned... eventually." He used his knife to cut away the fabric still clinging to her battered form; eventually, leaving the half-Umbaran sitting there in her lacy undergarments which included a balconette bra and a matching bottom, silken garter belt, and shredded stockings that looked more like fishnets than what they had been before. She winced when his hands touched her ribs even though he was being the epitome of gentle. Bacta patches were applied and a salve in places where it was more suitable. Then, his eyes cut up toward her's and she met his gaze steadily. "No, Gunnar. I don't. Thank you for... helping me." She murmured, slowly cupping his jaw and leaning down to plant a feather-soft kiss upon his mouth. "Will you stay with me... for a while?"

  19. #39
    “Well, it’s a good thing I’m more than your average one-night stand.” He added back with a touch of a smirk to her opening words, only to have himself silenced by a kiss far gentler than he would have imagined her capable of. “Wouldn’t dream of leaving you right now.” He assured her, coming to his knees just between hers. “Hey…” It broke his heart a bit to see her this way, not broken by anything Qurvo did, but broken by what he did. “…put that dour disposition again. You’re safe, and we can work on getting vengeance if it’s what you want.”

    His torso bent forward, hands sliding beneath her stocking covered thighs. As he stood, he guided her legs to wrap at his waist before bringing them back down to support her weight when he stood up. He turned out of the refresher, carrying her to the bed. With a spin, he lowered them both atop it, but with her atop him. “Now, I think you were about to invite me up when we were interrupted. What say we pick up where we left off?”

    A long evening, pleasant evening followed. He awoke first and started brewing a pot of caf. For the time being he let her rest, though was sure the aroma would rouse her before long. He moved towards the viewport, staring out over the city. It spoke of its own turmoil, but all was calm within her safe house. His eyes turned towards where Sybella rest, a momentary lapse furrowing his brow as he pondered what he was putting her through. He forced his resolve to steel and turned back towards the view, so as not to be caught in his brooding contemplation of their situation.

  20. #40
    After everything she had been through, she shouldn't have wanted to do anything more that evening. But, between the gentle coaxing of Gunnar's touch and the distraction from her own head space their ministrations afforded her, how could she resist? Again and again, until she was so exhausted that her mind willingly fell into the oblivion of sleep. She did not rouse again until the pungent aroma of caf teased her nose.

    Blearily, her eyes opened and immediately found Gunnar's broad backside situated before the viewport. She slowly sat up while rubbing her face, soreness still tugging at her insides here and there. The white top sheet from her mattress tangled around her willowy form, which emerged into a stand. Her fingers loosely held the fabric to her frame as she stalked toward the percolating pot on the counter, groggily searching for her one of two mugs that she favored. It was dirty and she scowled, palming it into the sink with all the petulance of a cat. It clattered loudly and she reached for the other mug, finding it clean, and poured herself a generous cup with no room for cream.

    "W...what time is it?"

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