[He keeps his gaze on her face as she moves, rather than looking at the candle. She didn't flinch, and he's fairly convinced that his own pain tolerance is higher than hers, given what he's been through in life.
So it catches him off-guard, when the wax hits his skin and his body jerks on pure instinct at the shock of it. A soft hiss slips out without permission, and his hand twitches, but he doesn't grab the sheets just yet. The wax cools rapidly, and that is an entirely different sensation from what he'd expected.
Ah... hm. That's. That's very different than fighting Pyro users, isn't it.
...
...Welp, no turning back now. He breathes in through his nose, then nods again.]
[ Primrose doesn't say anything when he jerks up, tenses-- he handles it better than she had anticipated, but it also seems to have caught him off-guard.
Still, he nods, and she nods in return, pausing only briefly to dip her head down to kiss him. Not exactly reassurance, because she doubts he needs it, but he looks like someone who enjoys contact.
The candle tips again, a bit of a teasing, meandering trail further down his body, if one could equate "pouring hot wax" to "teasing". ]
[The kiss is appreciated, yes--he isn't the type to need distraction, but it helps ease his body out of an instinctive urge to shift into survival mode. His other hand moves back to rest on her leg, with the tiniest scrape of nails.
He's a little more prepared, this time; he makes sure to steady his breathing, though he still jerks a little as the wax falls on him, fingers flexing on her leg as she proceeds. What he's really not anticipating is the slow accumulation of sensation--he's generally in control of his own body, but his breathing grows a little shallower as she moves onward. His skin isn't as sensitive as many others', but he's still not used to such a concentrated assault, and certainly not under pleasurable circumstances. It's far out of his wheelhouse.
Wrath is going to lose their shit on Saturday, if they're present. God.]
[ Thank god Wrath won't be there but is probably losing their shit anyway.
A little scrape of nails isn't going to hurt her, but she appreciates the care. He's still tense, but less so, from the looks of it. But all the same, Primrose keeps the dripping wax consistent, despite varying the times she'll tilt the candle and how much wax she'll allow to pool. She also leans over to gently puff out a breath over the cooling wax. ]
How does it feel, Tartaglia? Much as I'd like to learn that answer from your body, you're rather subtle.
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So it catches him off-guard, when the wax hits his skin and his body jerks on pure instinct at the shock of it. A soft hiss slips out without permission, and his hand twitches, but he doesn't grab the sheets just yet. The wax cools rapidly, and that is an entirely different sensation from what he'd expected.
Ah... hm. That's. That's very different than fighting Pyro users, isn't it.
...
...Welp, no turning back now. He breathes in through his nose, then nods again.]
no subject
Still, he nods, and she nods in return, pausing only briefly to dip her head down to kiss him. Not exactly reassurance, because she doubts he needs it, but he looks like someone who enjoys contact.
The candle tips again, a bit of a teasing, meandering trail further down his body, if one could equate "pouring hot wax" to "teasing". ]
no subject
He's a little more prepared, this time; he makes sure to steady his breathing, though he still jerks a little as the wax falls on him, fingers flexing on her leg as she proceeds. What he's really not anticipating is the slow accumulation of sensation--he's generally in control of his own body, but his breathing grows a little shallower as she moves onward. His skin isn't as sensitive as many others', but he's still not used to such a concentrated assault, and certainly not under pleasurable circumstances. It's far out of his wheelhouse.
Wrath is going to lose their shit on Saturday, if they're present. God.]
no subject
A little scrape of nails isn't going to hurt her, but she appreciates the care. He's still tense, but less so, from the looks of it. But all the same, Primrose keeps the dripping wax consistent, despite varying the times she'll tilt the candle and how much wax she'll allow to pool. She also leans over to gently puff out a breath over the cooling wax. ]
How does it feel, Tartaglia? Much as I'd like to learn that answer from your body, you're rather subtle.
[ In. This regard??? ]