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[twiststheblade]

Miho's room is, indeed, much more personal than the last time Mary Anne saw it. It's still stark and white - white walls, white sheets and comforter on the low futon - but now there's also a deep pile rug (also white, of course), on the blonde floorboards, and an enormous and extremely comfortable (white) leather bean bag sofa with a coffee table in front of it.

A book-case at one end of the bean bag has an eclectic collection of books, graphic novels and movies, and there's a small (digital) sound system next to the television. A few half-finished projects are lying on a neat desk. In other words, she looks like she's moved in, not as if she expects to leave at any moment.

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[twiststheblade]

Pain that doesn't come, for the little samurai is, when it really comes down to it, a tease.

She pulls back, smiles, and retrieves her knife from under the pillow. Twirls it between her fingers for a moment, before setting the tip exactly where Mary Anne had held it on her.

Watches her for a moment.

[song_tra_bong]

She sees the glint of the knife from the corner of her eye and feels the coolness of it against her skin.

She doesn't move, just watches in turn and waits.

Patience is a virtue.

[twiststheblade]

The blade warms quickly, of course, so that when Miho drags it lightly down, scoring a thin line between her breasts and stopping at her sternum, she feels not cold but the hot sting as it breaks the skin. Miho runs a finger lightly along the cut, smiling.

Then, because really, it's irresistable, the knife flickers rapidly above her hip, quick short scores. Deeper, this time.

[song_tra_bong]

A sharp hiss of indrawn breath over teeth and then she's silent while Miho works.

She props herself up on her elbows to get a better look at the mark and smiles.

"Nice choice."

[twiststheblade]

There's a little laugh, before Miho presses a kiss just below the design, lips picking up some of the blood that's begin to trickle across her skin. Choices now, of course, seeing as she's at hip level. To go up, or to go down? She grins, the wolfishness of her expression only enhanced by the blood on her lips.

She goes down.

[song_tra_bong]

And Mary Anne falls back on the bed, though not so hard as to jar Miho from her present task.

One hand trails through Miho's hair while the other twists in the sheets.

[twiststheblade]

Miho isn't about to be jarred too far. One hand has a steely grip on Mary Anne's hip, although it is a little slippery with blood. She makes a small contended sound in the back of her throat, and runs the other hand up a smooth inner thigh.

[song_tra_bong]

She turns her face further into the sheets, back twisting but anchored by the hand on her hip--not so much trying to move as needing to.

Her hips jerk and she moans softly

[twiststheblade]

With only one hand free to keep her steady, Miho has to hope that MaryAnne has self-control - although given that the object is to make her lose control, she could be onto a losing battle.

But she does her best.

And her best is very, very good.

[song_tra_bong]

Some part of her brain that still functions with rational though reminds her that accidently hitting Miho in the head is likely to end things much sooner than she'd like. So now she's under her own precept to keep still.

Her hands fist in the sheets while her breathing grows more shallow. There might even be a whimper.

[twiststheblade]

If there is a whimper, it is followed by a smile that surely she'll feel, and a flutter of fingers. And the fact that teeth are sharp isn't neccessarily bad, if you're careful.

Miho is careful.

[song_tra_bong]

Miho is perfect.

She would say so, if she could form words, but now she's wrapped up in remembering how to breathe. Her feet flex, toes curl, trying to twine with the sheets the way her fingers have. Communication is limited to the twitching muscles in her thighs, the subtle arch in her back, the moan working its way up her throat into a whine.

[twiststheblade]

There's a soft brush of fingers against fresh wounds, and a harder curl of fingers on the other hand, and Miho is hummin contentedly to herself. She's tender and vicious and sweet and sharp and she adores the woman beneath her.

[song_tra_bong]

The twisting of her hands becomes a clawing, her knees lock. She opens her mouth--a gasp becmes a vowel that never becomes a word but just a cry, high and wavering.

The sound lingers until she sinks bonelessly back onto the bed, her fingers untangling from the sheets. She reaches down with one hand and runs a faintly trembling hand through Miho's hair.

[twiststheblade]

Gently disengaging, Miho turns her head to kiss Mary Anne's fingers, before slithering bonelessly up to snuggle against her side, black head pillowed on a pale shoulder. She presses her face lightly into Mary Anne's neck, dropping soft kisses onto her jaw.

Her eyes are closed, but she's smiling.

[song_tra_bong]

Her head lolls to the side, the better to kiss Miho's forehead. She hooks an arm gently around her waist.

"Hello, sweet."

[twiststheblade]

She tips her head back a little to meet Mary Anne's eyes with a smile.

"Hey."

She might be feeling a little bad about carving words into her bedmate's skin.

[song_tra_bong]

Her bedmate is rather used to it by this point. And this time it will heal overnight--as much as she'll let it, anyway.

She kisses Miho lightly on the mouth.

"Mind if I stay?"

Becaus it's only polite to ask.

[twiststheblade]

"I should mind if you didn't," she confesses, as she hooks a foot under the comforter that has been pushed down to the bottom of the bed.

"I don't really like to sleep alone. And," pulling it up over them, "some company is infinitely better than others."

[song_tra_bong]

She hums, wrapping the comforter around herself and wrapping herself around Miho.

"I hoped you'd say that," she says, kissing Miho lightly.

"Just thought I'd be polite."

[twiststheblade]

"Hmm." Purring contentedly, Miho buries her face in Mary Anne's shoulder.

"I meant it, you know. I do love you."

[song_tra_bong]

"I know."

Another kiss to Miho's hair.

"Love you, too."

[twiststheblade]

Miho makes another happy sound, and settles into Mary Anne's arms.

She's going to sleep well, she can tell.