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The lounge has gone quiet save for the creak of leather and the soft catch of her breath. The red dress is shrugged down past her waist now, ribbon long since slipped from her hair, blonde spilling loose across the couch back. Leafa meets him with the same fearless drive she takes into a duel — knees braced, hips finding the rhythm, pointed ears flushed pink at their tips. Each breath she pulls in writes itself across the arch of her spine and the tightening curl of her fingers in the leather, until the slow knowing smile finally breaks into something unguarded. ラウンジは静まり、聞こえるのは革の軋みと、彼女の息の柔らかな掠れだけ。 赤いドレスはいまや腰の下までずり下げられ、リボンはとうに髪から滑り落ち、金の髪がソファの背に解け広がる。 リーファは決闘へ挑むときと同じ、怖れを知らぬ勢いで彼を迎える——膝を踏ん張り、腰がリズムを見つけ、尖った耳の先がピンクに染まる。 吸い込むひと息ごとに、それは反る背筋に、革を掴んで丸まる指先に書き留められ、やがてあの緩やかな見透かす笑みが、ついに無防備な何かへと崩れていく。 The character is adult (18+) and represented as such.

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