He desires her. He desires her and he told Balthier about it. He desires her, told Balthier about it, and Balthier - at his most maddening - deemed she might return the sentiment enough for Basch to feel empowered to voice it.
It's a lot. She's never been desired before - at least, not that she's aware of. With Rasler it was a learning process, one they were still figuring out when he was taken from her. They were discovering what desiring one another was, and that was nice, but it pales when compared to the prospect of being so clearly and precisely wanted.
It's no less weighty a matter the following day as it was when she left him a the door of his room, walking in relative silence after waving off his apology all the way back to their lodgings before turning abruptly and disappearing to her own quarters without so much as a farewell.
Because this is a lot! Ashe wants to be mad about it, and for a few hours after waking from a restless too-short sleep, she is angry. Angry that he be so disruptive and disrespectful and keep all these thoughts running in a loop in her mind along with how warm and solid his arm had been against her hands. She stalks around her room about it, she builds a fire and she glares at it, and she waits without admitting to herself how earnest she is to hear the sober truth from him.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2023-08-07 02:46 am (UTC)It's a lot. She's never been desired before - at least, not that she's aware of. With Rasler it was a learning process, one they were still figuring out when he was taken from her. They were discovering what desiring one another was, and that was nice, but it pales when compared to the prospect of being so clearly and precisely wanted.
It's no less weighty a matter the following day as it was when she left him a the door of his room, walking in relative silence after waving off his apology all the way back to their lodgings before turning abruptly and disappearing to her own quarters without so much as a farewell.
Because this is a lot! Ashe wants to be mad about it, and for a few hours after waking from a restless too-short sleep, she is angry. Angry that he be so disruptive and disrespectful and keep all these thoughts running in a loop in her mind along with how warm and solid his arm had been against her hands. She stalks around her room about it, she builds a fire and she glares at it, and she waits without admitting to herself how earnest she is to hear the sober truth from him.