Beneath the Northern Lights (!)

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Beneath the Northern Lights (Warnings: Erotic content)

The night was silent, save for the soft crackling of the hearth and the distant howl of the winter wind outside. The grand estate was quiet, its inhabitants long retired to their rooms, leaving only the sound of the flickering fire and the occasional creak of the old wooden beams. It was a rare moment of tranquility in the cold, unforgiving land of Snezhnaya—a moment you cherished, as it allowed you to be alone with the woman who had captured your heart.

Arlecchino was already in bed when you entered the room, her dark eyes following you as you crossed the threshold. The flickering firelight cast shadows across her sharp features, softening them, making her appear more relaxed than you were used to seeing. The sternness that usually marked her expression was absent, replaced with something gentler, almost tender.

You closed the door behind you quietly, not wanting to disturb the peace that had settled between you. She watched you in silence, her gaze unwavering, her presence commanding even in this intimate setting. There was no need for words; the connection between you was deep, unspoken, understood with just a glance.

As you approached the bed, Arlecchino shifted slightly, making room for you. The sheets were cool against your skin as you slid in beside her, but the warmth of her body quickly enveloped you, chasing away the chill of the night. You settled close to her, your head resting on the same pillow, your faces mere inches apart.

For a moment, you simply looked at each other, the silence between you filled with a quiet intensity. Her hand moved to cup your cheek, her touch soft, almost reverent. The callouses on her fingers brushed against your skin, a reminder of the life she led outside these walls—a life of power, control, and often, violence. But here, with you, she was different. Softer. Open.

You leaned into her touch, closing your eyes as you let yourself savor the feeling of her hand against your skin. The warmth of her palm, the gentleness in her touch—it was a side of her that she rarely showed to anyone but you.

"[Your Name]," she whispered, her voice low and husky, filled with an emotion she rarely allowed herself to express.

You opened your eyes, meeting her gaze once more. There was a vulnerability in her eyes, something she hid from the world but revealed to you in these quiet moments. You smiled softly, reaching up to place your hand over hers, holding it against your cheek.

"I'm here," you whispered back, your voice just as soft, filled with love.

She leaned in, her lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. It was slow, gentle, a world away from the harsh reality that surrounded you both. The kiss deepened as you pressed closer to her, your bodies molding together beneath the covers, the warmth of her skin seeping into you.

Arlecchino's hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, as if she couldn't bear to let you go. You responded in kind, your fingers threading through her dark hair, holding her to you as the kiss grew more urgent, more passionate.

Her lips moved against yours with a tenderness that belied the strength she possessed, her movements slow, deliberate, as if she was savoring every second. You could feel the tension in her body, the way she held herself back, not wanting to rush this moment. It was a rare thing for both of you—to have this time, this peace, without the world intruding.

Your hands roamed over her body, exploring the familiar curves and planes of her figure, tracing the lines of her muscles, the softness of her skin. She shivered under your touch, a quiet sigh escaping her lips as she broke the kiss, her breath warm against your cheek.

"Are you cold?" you asked softly, your hand slipping under the hem of her shirt to rest against her bare skin.

She shook her head slightly, her eyes half-lidded as she looked at you. "No," she murmured, her voice a little rough. "Not when I'm with you."

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