#15 hilda/lys drabble

[#15]


It is hard to bring the serious, quick to sleep girl to cuddle for most of the times, but Hilda won’t back down, not when she wanted to.

Lysithea is cold, both her personality and her skin, but the coldness can always be thawed, and it is maybe something Hilda is so proud on doing her best of – warming the thawing Lysithea. And Hilda is more than glad that she is growing to be better and better and doing it, of course within carefully-thread years and carefully-picked attitude.

All in all, Lysithea sees through her anyway—and they came to mutual understanding, slowly but surely.

The pinkette then keep on trying, until cuddling become their routine after a hard work days as they blend to the night, taking off their tired body and minds to drift below the sea of consciousness.

Hilda won’t go into kissing mode if Lysithea said it is gross. Hilda will go into kissing mode when Lysithea said it is gross as well, especially with her puffing red cheeks and her shying red eyes.

Hilda will listen as Lysithea blabber on her day of work. In turn, Lysithea will urge Hilda to tell hers. Sometimes Hilda will stop and wonder who actually the needy and selfish one here is, but she digresses.

Her lover needs her love, so is she—Hilda didn’t do anything much but try to cater on Lysithea’s interest.

“Are you tired?”

“Hmm?” Hilda tonight, a bit sleepy, raises her head a level above the pillow. Lysithea’s arms are just there hugging her close, Hilda then replies. “What’s up?”

“… Can you turn?”

Oh. “Oh.” Something in Hilda’s mind clicks. Heat travels up to her cheeks. “Sure.”

Hilda is only aware for a bit later of the parts that Lysithea likes when they are cuddling on the bed – and it is to have Lysithea settles on the back of her neck, while she curls up against Hilda’s back.

And then, Lysithea just purrs, like a cat finding a comfortable pillar to scratch. Hilda was thankful that she is not that solid in any way that she may start to define herself as Lysithea’s pillar.

“Why do you like that spot so much?”

Hilda knows she shouldn’t even ask, saving her grace from embarrassment, but she just blurts. A squeak, before a quiet reply. And another snuggle to the crook of her neck. It is ticklish, but bearable. Then how Lysithea breaths just made her heart leaps.

“… Because it smells good.”

Hilda buries herself deeper to her own pillow, she surrenders.

“Mou.”