Sinric the Wanderer (
thewidewideworld) wrote2018-05-19 01:14 pm
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[From here]
Sinric's room is the east end of the corridor. Inside it’s frankly ridiculous. Romanesque with vaulted ceilings with edges with frescos of animals, rich tiled floors that are warm underfoot.
The cross shaped layout and columns create discreet niches - one with a large bed; another lined with books and a map of the world as known in his time painted on the wall, a third holding several large couches circling his harpsichord.
The east side opens onto a glassed-in portico with a stunning view of the snow speckled garden.
A door off the bed chamber leads to a more modern but still Romanesque bathroom with a bath easily large enough for three.
Sinric's room is the east end of the corridor. Inside it’s frankly ridiculous. Romanesque with vaulted ceilings with edges with frescos of animals, rich tiled floors that are warm underfoot.
The cross shaped layout and columns create discreet niches - one with a large bed; another lined with books and a map of the world as known in his time painted on the wall, a third holding several large couches circling his harpsichord.
The east side opens onto a glassed-in portico with a stunning view of the snow speckled garden.
A door off the bed chamber leads to a more modern but still Romanesque bathroom with a bath easily large enough for three.
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Which is not to say he won't be one day. Or that he isn't loving this - every thrust, every moan, every kiss is genuinely joyous.
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He smiles and kisses Graverobber softly, drawing him on to rest against his chest as they both come down.
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When he's caught himself, he breaks the kiss only to smile and speak breathlessly. "God, you feel good."
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He gets up, naked and comfortable in his own skin as he holds a hand out to lead Graverobber to the bathroom.
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At the question he grins and says, "Can't say I have. Wouldn't object to it, though."
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He guides Graverobber to get his hair wet, making the water just a touch warmer. He reaches for a bottle, squeezing a little into his hand. There's a little ledge at the edge of the shower, just right for the rather short Sinric to be at the right height to massage the shampoo into Graverobber's hair. He has clever hands and knows just how best to press and massage.
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And on that note, his hair is...a bit of a mess. It's matted from long stretches of time where he can't thoroughly wash it, the aftereffects of years on the street without steady cleaning. Even though Graverobber enjoys the contact, he knows the strands are a tangled wreck, and he can't actually name the last time he's used proper shampoo.
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He can feel the strands of his hair against his back and shoulders, and it's strange and nice how smooth they feel. Really, it's surreal to think that they could ever get so clean like this.
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