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masserectSummary: He has summoned yet another new Persona. She should be used to it by now, but there is something different about this one.
Length: 415 words
Rating: G
Notes: This is an old fill from the now-defunct Persona 3 kink meme, but actually contains no kink whatsoever.
It's late.
It's late, and she's tired, and she should just fall face first into bed and worry about scrubbing off the sweat and shadow gunk in the morning.
Something tugs at her, however, keeps her in the lounge when the others make their way up to their rooms, then makes her stop on the second floor instead of continuing up to the third. She sighs as she turns to the right and continues all the way down the corridor to knock on his door.
He opens after a few moments, looking as dishevelled as she feels; shirt off, a towel draped over his neck. His bangs are dark and wet, and he has brushed them back so his entire face is visible for once. That only makes it more obvious how tired he looks, and it's strangely comforting, somehow, to know that she's not the only one.
He steps aside and welcomes her in, and she closes the door, stands just inside and fidgets. This is not like her. She blames the fatigue, even though she knows it has nothing to do with it.
"That Persona you were using," she works up enough courage to say. She's used to it now, the way his mind splits and goes off in every direction at once and takes more forms than she can be bothered to count, but something was different today. "I... I have never seen it before."
"Cybele?" An unfamiliar name. She knows their thoughts take the forms of mythical beings, but there are so many, she can't keep track of them all. Many of them are - attractive. But none of them has ever resonated with her the way this one did.
"The girl," she says, "with the swords. Was there anything..." She shakes her head. She can't explain what bothers her, because she doesn't quite understand it herself. "I'm sorry, I'm tired. I don't know what I was getting at." She turns to leave, silently cursing herself. This is not like her at all.
"There is something different about her," he says, and she freezes in mid-stride, hand half raised to the door. He comes up to stand behind her, so close that she can feel the heat of his body against her back.
"You gave me the strength to summon her."
She turns back, eyes wide, and he gives her a rare smile and strokes her cheek, a touch as light as a butterfly.
"She's beautiful," he says.
"Just like you."
Length: 415 words
Rating: G
Notes: This is an old fill from the now-defunct Persona 3 kink meme, but actually contains no kink whatsoever.
It's late.
It's late, and she's tired, and she should just fall face first into bed and worry about scrubbing off the sweat and shadow gunk in the morning.
Something tugs at her, however, keeps her in the lounge when the others make their way up to their rooms, then makes her stop on the second floor instead of continuing up to the third. She sighs as she turns to the right and continues all the way down the corridor to knock on his door.
He opens after a few moments, looking as dishevelled as she feels; shirt off, a towel draped over his neck. His bangs are dark and wet, and he has brushed them back so his entire face is visible for once. That only makes it more obvious how tired he looks, and it's strangely comforting, somehow, to know that she's not the only one.
He steps aside and welcomes her in, and she closes the door, stands just inside and fidgets. This is not like her. She blames the fatigue, even though she knows it has nothing to do with it.
"That Persona you were using," she works up enough courage to say. She's used to it now, the way his mind splits and goes off in every direction at once and takes more forms than she can be bothered to count, but something was different today. "I... I have never seen it before."
"Cybele?" An unfamiliar name. She knows their thoughts take the forms of mythical beings, but there are so many, she can't keep track of them all. Many of them are - attractive. But none of them has ever resonated with her the way this one did.
"The girl," she says, "with the swords. Was there anything..." She shakes her head. She can't explain what bothers her, because she doesn't quite understand it herself. "I'm sorry, I'm tired. I don't know what I was getting at." She turns to leave, silently cursing herself. This is not like her at all.
"There is something different about her," he says, and she freezes in mid-stride, hand half raised to the door. He comes up to stand behind her, so close that she can feel the heat of his body against her back.
"You gave me the strength to summon her."
She turns back, eyes wide, and he gives her a rare smile and strokes her cheek, a touch as light as a butterfly.
"She's beautiful," he says.
"Just like you."
