[she shakes her head at his words, pressing a kiss on his cheek just under where the scar ends. his hands move under her shirt, and her breath hitches at the sensation. she's never been touched by a man in this manner before, and it's thrilling. tilting her head to the side, byleth puts her hands on his forearms and follow them towards her shirt, grabbing at the edge of it and slowly pulling it up—without preamble and without much warning, her eyes closed as she shakes her hair into place.]
[her coat falls from her shoulders in the same movement, and, needless to say, dimitri is met with byleth's bare chest.]
[scars mar her skin, her muscles on her biceps and torso tight; no one is perfect, and her skin can be just as unflattering as his own scar. her flush spreads from her face to her shoulders, but it doesn't deter her from taking hold of one of his hand to rest on her breast.]
no subject
[her coat falls from her shoulders in the same movement, and, needless to say, dimitri is met with byleth's bare chest.]
[scars mar her skin, her muscles on her biceps and torso tight; no one is perfect, and her skin can be just as unflattering as his own scar. her flush spreads from her face to her shoulders, but it doesn't deter her from taking hold of one of his hand to rest on her breast.]
You're perfect, Dimitri.