Why Mess Up A Good Thing

All the while Alastor was talking to her, he noticed Relm's quietness. She was paying close attention to what he said. He could practically feel the focus she put on him, even if she wasn't always fixing him with her silver gaze, instead looking down between their intertwined bodies at every inch of skin that touched and remained touching long after the lust had burned away into warm embers of intimacy. He appreciated her attention more than she would know. Unlike Relm, Alastor wasn't haunted by the specters of his past. He had long since let their memories go to burn in the fires of whatever hell awaited them and eventually himself. But he could never escape the damage it had done to him. It had left his mind fractured, his psyche twisted and demented, a monster wrapped in the shell of a wolf. The feral animal that he had resorted to being to survive would forever exist within his mind, always waiting for its next opportunity to break free and wreak havoc on the damned world. Relm had gotten a small taste of it herself, and Kefka had become intimately familiar with it in his final moments. The savagery, the violence, the insatiable lust for destruction and damage. It would forever be a part of him, and Alastor would have to battle for control until the end of his days.

When he did finally look down at her for a reaction, Relm had been waiting to lock their gazes once more. Her expression was impassive, but her eyes told him all he needed to know. There was no hate, no loathing, no revulsion. Only empathy and care. She murmured his name amidst a breath, but said nothing more. The dire brute was also silent, all the way up to the point where Relm pushed her muzzle to his and connected their mouths. Black eyes blinked in rapid succession, surprised but not unwelcoming. He kissed Relm back, pressing into her advance for the duration of their kiss. When their lips did separate, Alastor slowly opened his eyes to find hers still closed, still processing what had happened, perhaps. He knew how much kissing had bothered her in the past, so the impact of this moment was not lost on him. There had been many expressions and shows of Relm's profound trust in him today—some that would remain seared into his mind for the rest of time.

Alastor rubbed over Relm's back again, using the large pads of his paws to gently knead through her fur and over soft skin and strong muscle. He leaned his head down to hers, resting his forehead against hers for a brief moment, so close to her that he could feel her every breath rippling the fur on his throat. "Relm..." he spoke back in his rich, deep voice, lifting his muzzle to plant a gentle lick across her crown. He didn't want to smother the girl with too much physical affection, knowing it was a slow process to build her up to it, but at the same time he didn't want to untangle himself from her, and a part of him was already imagining going at it again with her. This would be enough for him for now though, this closeness, this intimacy that they'd build, all entirely their own. Lost in their own little world.

"Alastor Mendacium"