Private Alkaline

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: Restraint Aurelian... Restraint.
Tags: Sibylla Abrantes

Aurelian didn't need to say a word to convey his satisfaction. His smirk alone did the work of ten smug monologues. When Sibylla lifted her chin and primly declared she did not play on command, his brow arched in lazy, delighted mockery. He knew he had won the exchange, because not three seconds later, she turned and placed her hands on the keys.

He didn't call her on it. His silence was far worse. He simply shifted deeper into the couch. His gaze fixed on her like a man settling in to enjoy his favorite performance, and then she began to play.

The first sharp notes hit him like sparks of fluster and indignation, mingled with something wild and bright. His grin faded slowly, replaced by something heavier and more reverent settling into him. He watched her with a stillness he rarely possessed.

Sibylla poured herself onto the keys. Every rush and tremor of feeling she refused to speak aloud burst free in the music instead. Aurelian felt her with startling clarity. He heard the frustration he'd caused her, the stubbornness, the fire, and the low heat she tried desperately to deny. The tension thickened between them with every rising swell of the melody.

The rhythm suddenly faltered. "I am not thinking about those daydreams," she declared.

His eyes narrowed. The smirk returned. "Surely not."

Her ears flushed pink. The melody had betrayed her.

He dragged a slow breath into his lungs, trying to steady himself. If he didn't, he knew he would cross the room, sweep aside that piano bench, and ruin any hope of gentlemanly conduct. Instead, he let the tension burn, letting it coil low and slow inside him while she played.

This room, her sanctuary, took clearer shape in his mind the longer he watched. A lifetime of Sibylla's worries and hopes poured into these keys. Every choice, every doubt, every secret she'd never voiced aloud. He understood it in ways he hadn't expected. He wondered how many nights she had sat exactly there, shoulders tense, using the piano to quiet everything clawing at her, rebuilding herself note by note.

He saw her more clearly, not just as a noblewoman or political heir, but as a woman who carried far more than she ever let show. And stars, it undid him. He could picture her in Parrlay, sunlight on her hair, a room he would have redone just for her; mahogany floors, tall windows, the piano she deserved. She would play, and he would sit with a glass in hand, pretending to read while watching her with this same quiet hunger. His throat tightened. His pulse thudded in a rhythm completely unrelated to the melody.

When she hit a particularly fierce run of notes, he inhaled sharply. His composure frayed. He leaned forward on the couch, elbows resting on his knees, his gaze fixed on her with unguarded intensity.

"You..." he said, his voice low, warm, and unbearably sincere, "...you play beautifully."

He leaned closer, then continued in a softer tone, laced with mischief and heat. "Truly. If this is how you sound when you're flustered, then I may make it a personal mission to keep you that way." The corner of his mouth tugged up, dangerous and affectionate all at once. "But do continue, my heart. I'm enjoying myself immensely."

​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Location: You are not yet truly privy to how I sound when I am fully flustered.
Aurelian Veruna

The piano always consumed Sibylla when she played, drawing her wholly into the rise and fall of feeling. But today felt different. Today, every sense tightened under the weight of Aurelian's gaze. Even as she slipped into the melody, she could feel him watching her the way one watches flame, captivated, unable to turn away.

For years they had studied one another with a carefulness neither ever voiced. At first, it had been pure calculation, efforts to read intent beneath poised expressions and polished decorum. But gradually, almost without their noticing, that scrutiny softened. It warmed into intrigue, deepened into curiosity, sharpened into a keen awareness. And beneath it all, something far more dangerous took root. Desire. Affection. A wanting that thrummed quietly between every shared glance.

So this moment… this giving of herself… it was an intimacy she had never intended to offer anyone.

Yet here she was, offering it to him, note by trembling note.

And then his voice came.

You play beautifully.

The words struck her like a hand around her waist. Her fingers stuttered for a single startled heartbeat before she forced them back into motion, the music faltering, then blooming again with even more emotion than before.

Shiraya, she liked the way he sounded saying that. Too much.

But then he leaned in further, the heat of his voice skating down her spine:

If this is how you sound when you are flustered, then I may make it a personal mission to keep you that way.

Sibylla inhaled sharply, and her next chord came out stronger than she intended. Her toes curled in her slippers and her breath shortened as Aurelian's words sank into her skin like warm fingertips.

But do continue, my heart.

Sibylla felt her pulse stumble at hearing it again.

My heart.

Aurelian had said it earlier, but she had been too flustered to address it. Now, wrapped in the vulnerable hush of her piano room, the endearment hit her differently. Tender. Possessive. Quietly devastating.

Sibylla exhaled a trembling breath, letting the melody soften beneath her hands, and allowed herself a small, helpless smile.

"Careful, my love," she murmured without looking at him, voice pitched low and warm, "…provoke me too much and you may well burn."

It was then that her hazel eyes lifted to look at him over her shoulder, her body tilting just slightly enough for him to catch the delicate shadow of her profile framed by the soft fall of her hair brushing her cheek. She caught his mischievously smirk, equal parts affectionate as it was wicked in its smug delivery.

Practicing being the perfect gentleman. He knew what he did to her, and it frustrated her that it seemed as if she were the only one affected. And while she adored him for wanting to respect her father's home and give the best first impression, a rebellious part of her wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine.

A thought came to her, and even as a blush rose over her throat like the coming dawn, a slight lift of her chin indicated her determined decision.

"And for your information…" Her fingers slowed, slipping into a softer, yearning progression. Her voice dropped to a smooth, velvety hush. "You are not yet truly privy to how I sound when I am fully flustered."

The melody deepened beneath her touch, shifting into something intimate, aching, almost secret. A piece she would never play for an audience. A piece born only in solitude.

Yet she played it now.

A shiver swept across her skin, rising goosebumps along her arms as if he had brushed his fingertips down her spine… though he had not moved. She could simply feel him. His attention settled on her like heat, like breath trailing over bare skin.

"But if you are enjoying yourself immensely while practicing to be the perfect gentleman…" The breathy whisper left her before she could catch it.

She closed her eyes.

And let go.

The piano claimed her entirely, and her body followed its pull, moving in ways she never allowed before another soul. Her spine curved in a slow, fluid sway, her breath quickening, rising and falling with breathless fervor beneath the drape of her gown as her fingers danced over the keys, spilling a longing and desire in a way she could never voice aloud.

Full lips parted on a quiet inhale as the melody shifted again. She wet them unconsciously before pressing into a brighter phrase, feeling something pulse through her with every breath.

Because in her mind, he was not simply watching her.

She imagined him rising from that couch, imagined his hands sliding around her waist from behind, imagined his lips brushing that tender place beneath her ear as he whispered her name, encouragement, or mischief against her skin until she forgot the keys entirely.

And as her fingers drifted furiously into the crescendoing notes, breath catching and her pulse stuttering at her throat, she knew with aching certainty:

She had never been touched less, yet felt less clothed.

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: You win again.
Tags: Sibylla Abrantes

Aurelian didn't realize the danger he was in until it was too late. At first, he thought he was in control, smirking and lounging as he watched Sibylla flush. But then the music changed, the air shifted, and Sibylla began to play with a depth of emotion that struck him like a blow. She leaned into the keys with a softness that hit him harder than any physical attack. The melody wrapped around her, around him, dragging him under.

His breath caught as he sat frozen, his spine straightening as if some instinctual part of him recognized the moment for what it was; a surrender, a confession, a door opening that she had never opened for anyone else. And she offered it to him. When she murmured "Careful, my love," his throat tightened. The words slid into him like silk and claws, making his pulse hammer. He felt it everywhere, behind his ribs, in his throat, low in his stomach.

As she played on, her body swaying, lips parting, breath quickening, Aurelian felt his control fracture and shatter. He rose from the couch without realizing he had moved, pulled forward by her music like gravity or instinct. Every step felt inevitable, predetermined by something written long before either of them was born. He approached slowly, afraid of startling her out of the spell she had woven around them.

But when she arched into a rising phrase, breath catching, Aurelian stopped pretending he had restraint left. He came to stand behind her, close enough that the heat of her body kissed his chest. His hands hovered, trembling, wanting, reverent, before settling on her waist and shoulder. His fingers curved gently, possessively, and her breath hitched as the melody shook. "Sibylla," he murmured, voice low and roughened by desire, "if this is you holding back, I am in unspeakable danger."

His lips hovered above her ear, and she shivered beneath his touch, sending fire racing up his arm. "You undo me," he whispered, leaning in until his breath brushed her skin. Her fingers faltered, trembling, and his hand tightened at her waist. "I would burn for you, gladly," he breathed.

He whispered, voice warm and sinful, "Tell me if I am allowed to touch you, or if your father will find my smoldering corpse in your piano room."

​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Location: Are you seeking my forgivness, or my permission?
Aurelian Veruna

Sibylla did not hear him approach.

She felt him.

It was in the shift in the air, in the prickle at the base of her spine, in the sudden bloom of heat that had nothing to do with the music.

For a suspended heartbeat, she thought it was still her imagination. That the daydream she had conjured earlier had simply woven itself too vividly into her senses. But then reality shattered through her just like the chord she pressed into the ivories.

Warmth enveloped her back. A breath of heat skimmed her ear. And then his fingers settled at her shoulder and waist with a pressure that stole the air from her lungs. Her next note cracked, echoing in the vaulted room like a breath caught between a gasp and a prayer.

Aurelian.

Not imagined. Not dreamed.

Here.

The piano vanished. The room vanished. Everything narrowed to the rough heat of his voice close to her ear, the faint rasp of his stubble near her cheek, the way his fingers curved around her waist like they had always belonged there. She arched before she realized she had done so, drawn helplessly toward the warmth of his palm and the solid heat of his chest. The silk of her gown betrayed every point of contact, letting his heat seep through her skin until her fingers sank uselessly over the ivory keys, forgetting the next chord entirely.

You undo me. I would burn for you, gladly.

Oh.

Oh, that thrilled her.

So she had affected him. It was not only her undone by this. The knowledge curled through her in a molten, dangerously sweet rush. And while his touch was reverent, yes, it was held together by the thinnest thread of restraint, as if one slip would draw her fully against him, his mouth claiming hers until the piano fell silent beneath her hands.

Shiraya help you, Sibylla, she thought faintly. Only you would have a fantasy and then be tempted to reenact it the moment it ends.

The thought alone, combined with the sinful question he had breathed against her ear, made her swallow hard before a soft, incredulous laugh escaped her.

"You inquire whether you are allowed," Sibylla breathed out in a soft, fluttering, amused rush, "while your hands are already upon me. A curious strategy."

Another slow, devastating press of his hand at her waist made her pulse nearly stop.

"Pray tell," she whispered, daring herself as she lifted her gaze to meet his, her hazel eyes warm and bright beneath their gold flecks, "are you seeking my forgiveness…"

The sweep of his thumb nearly unraveled her.

"…or my permission?"

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: You play a dangerous game
Tags: Sibylla Abrantes

Aurelian went completely still because her voice, her eyes, her very breath turned molten in his hands. Permission or forgiveness. Shiraya. She was going to end him.

He lowered his head just enough that his mouth hovered at the corner of her cheek, close enough to taste the warmth of her blush without touching it. His fingers tightened at her waist in a slow, deliberate draw that made her inhale sharply. "You ask dangerous questions," he murmured. "One of these days, I will answer them in a way that gets us both exiled from polite society."

Her lashes fluttered. The melody beneath her hands wavered into something soft and trembling. Aurelian felt the shift of her breathing against his chest. She was not pulling away. He had never known such a heady permission. His thumb swept her waist again, slow enough to be reverent, sure enough to be claiming. "But if you insist on clarity," he whispered, brushing a ghost of a breath down the tender shell of her ear, "I am not seeking forgiveness."

His other hand drifted from her shoulder, trailing down her arm with a touch so light it chased goosebumps to the crook of her elbow. He saw her fingers faltered on the keys; the smallest, sweetest surrender. The tiniest proof that the hurricane he felt inside himself was mutual. Aurelian smiled, wicked, helplessly fond. "I have done nothing wrong yet."

Her breath snagged. Her spine curved subtly toward him, as though her body answered before her thoughts could. Not yet. The implication pulsed between them with its own heartbeat. He leaned in until his forehead nearly touched her temple, until their breaths mingled in the warm, charged air between them. "Nor," he continued softly, "am I asking permission."

Her pulse quickened beneath his lips when he let them graze the place just below her ear. "Because, Sibylla… you do not look like a woman who wants me to stop." Her hands trembled on the keys. "And I," he breathed, voice low and dark with the truth he no longer cared to hide, "am not a man strong enough to pretend restraint when you look at me like that."

​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Location: Who would play the better piece?
Aurelian Veruna

One of these days, he would answer her questions in a way that would get them both exiled from polite society.

Well, that was simply unfair. Perhaps that was to be her first real taste of Aurelian's definition of just what scale of unprofessionalism he abided by.

It didn't help matters that her imagination that had been already been shamefully growing unruly around him, snapped its leash entirely. In a single unhelpful rush, it paraded every ridiculous, improper, thoroughly inadvisable thought she had ever tried to banish. Intimate training. Preferring the dominant position. Proper posture for proximity. That insufferable smirk he had when he'd murmured he could 'teach her a few things.'

Truly, the man weaponized suggestion like an art form.

And oh Shiraya, she was not immune. Not when his breath skimmed the corner of her cheek like a promise. Not when his fingers tightened at her waist, as if he knew which chord to play to get her to hum. Not when the air between them thickened and heated until her entire body felt tuned to him like the piano strings beneath her hands. Who was the musician, and who was the instrument in this case?

Who would play the better piece?

She was so in over her head. Yet she did not want a lifeline.

Not when she was drawn helplessly to the sound of his voice, to the shadowed lines of want carved into his face. Her cheeks flushed, her lips parted, and her gaze, that traitorous thing, fell straight to his mouth before she could stop it.

Shiraya, she wanted him.

But she managed by some miracle to speak. Barely.

"Whatever…" she inhaled sharply when his thumb swept her waist again, "...whatever happened to practicing being the perfect gentleman?"

It was meant to sound prim. Dignified. Entirely unbothered.

Instead, it came out soft, breathless, and flustered beyond salvation.

Sibylla cleared her throat, tried again, and failed even more spectacularly because his breath at her ear stole every coherent thought she possessed.

"Truly," she whispered, voice trembling with laughter she couldn't quite bite back, "You should know," she added, cheeks glowing, eyes flicking once more to his lips before darting away as though burned, "this is not how perfect gentlemen behave."

A beat.

"But then again," she murmured, unable to stop the blooming smile, "I didn't fall in love with the perfect gentleman, I fell in love with you."

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: How embarrassing
Tags: Sibylla Abrantes

Aurelian wasn't prepared for her voice when it came. It was soft and breathless, trembling with an unguarded affection that gutted him clean.

Whatever happened to practicing being the perfect gentleman?

He huffed a quiet laugh against her cheek, a sound low and warm. "I am," he murmured. "You should see the list of things I'm heroically not doing right now." His hand slid a fraction higher along her waist, purely to prove his point.

Then she said it. "I didn't fall in love with the perfect gentleman. I fell in love with you."

Something inside him snapped with a clean, decisive clarity. Aurelian's hand rose to her jaw, fingers threading into her hair as he turned her toward him. He kissed her fiercely, hungrily, like a man who had been holding himself back for weeks and finally stopped pretending he could. Her breath caught against his mouth, then melted into him. The sound she made, Shiraya, he would commit crimes to hear it again.

He didn't stop. He couldn't. Her lips parted under his and he deepened the kiss, pulling her fully into his chest, the piano long forgotten. One arm wrapped around her waist, lifting her just slightly, their breaths intertwining, their hearts hammering in the same frantic rhythm. He pressed her gently against the piano's edge, mouth trailing along her jaw, whispering her name like a vow.

The heat between them surged. The tension thickened into something that could have set the very room alight. His hand slid along the line of her back, and she gasped softly, pulling him closer.

A throat cleared.

Aurelian jolted as though struck by a blaster bolt. Caleb stood in the doorway, a tray of tea and sugared pastries in hand, wearing the expression of a man desperately attempting not to perceive reality. Aurelian released Sibylla so fast he nearly stepped backward into the piano bench. He straightened with the stiff dignity of a man pretending he had not just been kissing the her like a starving man.

"Caleb," he said, voice only slightly strained, smoothing his hair back. "My apologies. I didn't realize you were… there."

Aurelian bit the inside of his cheek, fighting valiantly not to laugh at the sheer absurdity: the tray shaking ever so slightly in Caleb's hands, Sibylla pink and breathless beside the piano, and Aurelian still catching his breath.

​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Location: You are a menace... but you are my menace.
Aurelian Veruna

You should see the list of things I'm heroically not doing right now.

Her mind didn't just race; it detonated.

Every forbidden thought she had ever tucked away flared to life in a molten sweep through her body. But none of it matched when the restraint snapped, and his fingers dove possessively into her hair, or the way his mouth descended on hers with a hunger that swallowed every thought whole. Sibylla answered without hesitation, kissing him back with a fierce, helpless yearning, a soft hum escaping her as she melted into him.

Shiraya....his kiss.

Every brush of heat from his mouth, every rough murmur of her name sent her bowing into him as he deepened the kiss. She clung to him, undone by the knowledge that no fantasy had ever reached the intensity of Aurelian Veruna stripped of restraint. That he wanted her this badly shattered any remaining composure.

He was everywhere. On her skin, in her breath, wrapped around her heartbeat. Heat coiled low, sparking through her as her fingers tightened in those inky black curls. When her body pressed against his, the piano shrieked a discordant note beneath them, the perfect echo of her frantic pulse.

She wanted him.

Shiraya help her, she wanted him so desperately she could barely breathe.

And then --
A throat cleared.

Sibylla froze. Aurelian froze. The world crashed back into place with all the grace of a toppled chandelier.

The clang that spilled across the piano was loud enough to ring through Sibylla's teeth as her hands slipped, searching for purchase on the keys. She jerked upright, breathless, dazed, dress askew, hair mussed, lips unmistakably kissed.

"Caleb…" she croaked, voice an octave too high. "I… we…"

Mortification flooded her from throat to toes.

Caleb, consummate professional that he was, seemingly entered without a flicker of outward reaction -- save for the faint, unmistakable glint of amusement he failed (politely) to hide and the faint shaking of the tray.

"I have brought drinks and finger foods, your Highness, Chancellor," he announced as though he had not just walked in on the would be rulers of Naboo in a clinch against a grand pianoforte.

Sibylla wished the floor would swallow her whole.

"I do hope they prove cooling to the palate," he added lightly, if knowingly, with a glint in his eyes under those thick bushy dark brows.

She was going to die.

Caleb set the tray on a side table, bowed, and began to depart. Sibylla dared a single glance at Aurelian, only to find him just as breathless and disheveled, catching her gaze with a sinful, helpless mixture of guilt and lingering hunger.

But it was then that Caleb paused in the threshold of the doorway.

"As a reminder, your Highness… while the soundproofing is excellent in the pianoforte room, the windows lack privacy unless you activate the solar tint."

Sibylla's entire soul left her body.

The door clicked shut.

A beat of silence.

A second.

On the third, Sibylla broke.

A strangled snort burst out of her, utterly impossible to contain. Then another. And suddenly she was laughing, her shoulders shaking, face utterly aflame, breath catching in wild, uncontrollable amusement.

"Oh, by Shiraya's grace… I cannot believe he…" She covered her mouth, eyes dancing even as mortification and delight tangled wildly within her.

Without thinking, she reached for Aurelian, tugging him close. Not for a kiss -- though the way they were swollen from his attentions might be tempting -- but to hold him, to hide her face in the safe, warm space between his shoulder and his neck.

"Okay…" she breathed, trying to gather her bearing again. "Rest. You need rest. Eat, drink… possibly remember how to breathe."

As if she weren't the one still trembling from the way he had kissed her.

She drew back, cheeks flushed, hazel eyes too bright with too many feelings to name.

"You are a menace, my love," she said with a breathless huff, still alit and buzzing in heat, but nonetheless, the affection of her voice softened into fondness, her kiss-swollen lips curving in a way entirely unguarded as she brought her hand up to cafune his locks away from his exhausted face.

"But you are my menace," she murmured, moving up on her tippy toes, gently brushing the tip of his nose with hers.

"Remember that."

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: Time to cool off
Tags: Sibylla Abrantes

Aurelian lasted exactly three seconds after the door clicked shut.

Then he broke into a helpless, breathless fit of laughter. It tore out of him in sharp bursts, half-choked, half-disbelieving. Adrenaline still burned bright beneath his skin. Sibylla's laughter tangled with his, and he swept her into his arms without thinking, crushing her against his chest as the absurdity of the moment toppled every last thread of his composure.

"Shiraya save us," he managed between breaths, his forehead dropping to her shoulder.

Her warmth, her scent, her trembling laughter, all steadied something in him he hadn't realized was shaking. When she called him her menace, the chaos inside him softened into something unbearably tender.

He cupped the back of her head and pressed a slow, affectionate kiss to her forehead, letting it linger. "Yours," he murmured. "Gladly. Irreversibly." His thumb brushed her cheek as he leaned back enough to look at her, a dangerous smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "And for the record, I love you." The words came easy, natural, true in a way that pulled at his ribs.

Then he glanced at the disaster that was his shirt, his hair, the flush still clinging to his skin, and huffed a laugh that was far too close to a groan. "But I also need to clean up before Caleb writes a report about the state I'm in." He stepped back, just enough to let their bodies cool. "I need a very cold shower," he added, his tone dipping into unmistakable mischief. "Immediately."

A deliberately slow once-over of her still breathless, beautiful form. "You might need one too," he said lightly, "and if you do, try not to daydream too much about me in yours."

He winked, already backing toward the door, straightening his jacket with a futile attempt at dignity. "I'll see you at dinner, my heart." A last glance, hungry, fond, and impossible to hide. "And just so you know…" His voice dropped. "I'll be thinking of you the entire time."

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