http://taras-oleksei.livejournal.com/ ([identity profile] taras-oleksei.livejournal.com) wrote in [personal profile] taras_oleksei 2009-08-19 09:07 pm (UTC)

Taras swallowed.

He couldn't decide if the way Lasha said his name was an invitation, or the lead-in to a question, or something else.

It hung there, as if something was supposed to come after it.

Slowly, he looked over at Lasha.

Ilarion looked regal in his fine robe and silk pants, the drink in his hand, the negligent, relaxed pose. In the dim light, his eyes were hooded, and the cut of his cheekbones and angular line of his jaw were outlined in shadow.

"Da, Krysha?" Taras whispered.

He shifted in his chair, leaning forward. After a second, he reached out, and laid his hand on Lasha's thigh. The black silk was slick under his fingertips, warmed by Lasha's body heat. He could feel solid muscle underneath.

"What...do you want?" he asked, softly.

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