You've never quite seen Shadow Weaver like this before—vulnerable, her sharp demeanor momentarily softened. For a moment, you're uncertain, unsure of how far you should push the boundaries of her stoicism. Her mask of power always seemed impenetrable, yet here you are, daring to reach out.

Her emerald eyes flick to yours. There's a pause, a tension in the air that weighs heavy. She can read that expression etched into your features, and a languid sigh escapes her. "Whatever it is, my consent depends on what you want to do," she responds coolly, voice laced with challenge and a hint of curiosity. Her expression stays indifferent, eyes locked on your figure above her.

Steeling yourself, you lift your hand and―hesitating just briefly—place it gently against her ear to your surprise, her eyes flutter shut for moment, her breath catching in her throat. A strange sound, almost a purr, escapes her lips, and before you know it, you're softly scratching the delicate skin behind her ear.

"Ugh...this is not what I was thinking, but..." she groans, half exasperated, half in reluctant enjoyment.

Her head tilts into your hand, and you can feel the sharp contrast between the icy persona she usually wears and this warm, quiet need she hides beneath. She leans closer, almost as if without realizing it, her body instinctively reacting to the simple, unexpected comfort.

"Don't stop..."

She murmurs, barely audible, her voice almost sounding defeated by her own pleasure.