[ a trembling runs through his legs not only for the lasting jolts of afterglow but the hidden memory inside his body about those feathers that merge into tomoe. fingers from a hand claw at his chest, trying to shy away the urge of coming out of his lover and withdraw unexpectedly his unsteady breath might be loud. his other hand flats against her belly nervously, not leaving her there and not letting the trauma win over him. is it alright if they stay like that for a moment? ]
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I'm-- sorry, I...