Clean from head to toe, her hair combed with a lustrous shine from silkening oil, and loose, and her body groomed and nails trimmed, Lindiwe had finally run out of excuses to delay any longer.

Still, despite her trepidation and the nervousness skittering along the edges of her consciousness, she found comfort in escaping the summer heat by being pulled to the never-ending darkness.

As usual, it wasn’t hot, wasn’t cold, and held her in the perfect temperature.

If only her body would react the same and didn’t immediately flush with warmth.

Giddiness also simmered beneath the surface, stimulating her muscles until they were twitchy and leaping with anticipation.

Her fingers trembled before she came here and only seemed to intensify the moment she met Weldir’s direct gaze on her.

She’d shy away from his penetrating stare, but she wasn’t that insecure. Instead, she held his glossy eyes, no longer unnerved by his black sclera.

Reaching up to the tie banding across her chest, she pulled on one of the strings to remove her feathered cloak.

“Hello, Weldir,” Lindiwe said, cutting in before he could greet her first, like usual.

Before she could release her hold on her cloak, and it turned physical within Weldir’s nothingness, a tendril stuck to the corner of it and kept it within his touch.

“You’ve damaged this again,” he stated, pulling it to himself so he could hold it. He pulled the material taunt and thumbed the feathers, putting them in disarray, while checking the rips – results from sharp claws.

“You can blame Ari for that,” she stated, as spare black feathers appeared from the abyss.

Her children were a hazard, as were their main food source: Demons.

Multiple tendrils attached a single feather at a time, Weldir’s magic seemingly sparkling while the tears in it closed shut like he was a mystical seamster.

For a moment, the mana stone attached to the inside of the cloak floated upwards.

The stone glowed a light blue, with a paler Elvish rune carved into the centre of it.

Then it disappeared once more, and Weldir released the cloak so it could turn physical and out of his reach.

Weldir drifted his body towards her, part of his cloud lagging behind before catching up to him with a swiftness. “Your clothing is much more vibrant up close.”

His features were more minimal than she expected.

She saw much of his face, but that was usual for him these days – ever since she first said she’d prefer to see his face over feeling his hands.

The rest of him wrapped around his torso like twirling ribbon, barely making up a sixth of his large body.

His right hand and left foot were visible, while the opposing biceps and thigh were.

All this talk of nothing managed to soothe the worst of her nerves, and she looked down.

Both his hands patted down the patterned yellow-and-red skirt that had been rolled at her hips, while her loose bright-yellow overshirt hid most of her curves.

The sleeves were loose, flapping often in the wind, but she found it agreeable underneath the heat of the sun – like permanent shade.

The thick red cloth she’d tied around her head after her bath to push back her thick curls was then loosened without her knowledge, and she flinched when it pulled away. Her tresses waved forward and framed around her face, tickling the tops of her ears and her cheeks.

“You seem more uneasy than usual,” Weldir stated, tilting his head sideways less than a hand’s width from her nose. The rest of his body seemed to lift upwards, dissipating for a moment before settling back down. “Is it because of what happened last time?”

His lips pulled apart and widened into a grin, and she tried to remember if she’d ever seen him this way before. Her stomach flipped as it filled his expression, somehow making a creature of the void more mischievous, sinful, and devilish – especially with his horns, pointed ears, and canine fangs.

Dear heavens, why did he have to say that? Voicing what they were about to do only made it seem naughtier.

Lindiwe tried not to shy away from his intensity, despite finding him more hauntingly beautiful than usual. His wispiness, his overall cloud, just had a dark aura to it – that had nothing to do with the colour of it but the tingle of desire she felt.

His nearness had her pulse racing. He was too close when, for so long, he’d mostly been out of her reach.

“No, I’m not,” she blatantly lied.

How can he tell? She’d gotten pretty good at playing pretend with her emotions – at least with her face. She often hid her fidgeting hands behind her back or in the layers of her new skirt.

“Your heart is accelerated.” He reached out with a partially visible hand, the ribbons of it messy and thin, and touched the hard bone of her sternum.

The traitorous organ below beat faster under his touch, especially when he caressed right above her left breast and parted the vee of her shirt.

“It’s so fast and loud that it echoes in my realm.

You can’t lie to me when your very body gives you away.

It’s not often I can surmise that about you. ”

Lindiwe couldn’t hear anything other than the pounding in her ears. Her cheeks grew warm in self-consciousness. I didn’t know he could sense me like that. And here she was, thinking she had been fooling him for all these years when before him like this.

His fingertips inched their way down her body, against her very flesh when there should have been clothing, and Lindiwe didn’t stop him. Instead, she waited for what would come next with thundering suspense.

This... doesn’t seem as awkward as usual.

There was no negativity from her, no unfeeling mask from him. It felt... natural, for once, and that alone had a greedy pool of wetness at her core. Even when his face ceased offering an expression, it didn’t diminish this, or him.

There was no circulating air to inform her hardening nipples when they had been exposed, only the shift of material across them floating off her.

Lindiwe looked down when he tickled around her naked navel, causing goosebumps to prickle her. She produced a tiny, hidden groan of anticipation and surprise when she saw that he’d unthreaded the seams of her shirt with his very will without her knowing.

I’ve seen him fix my cloak with such magic, but never the opposite. Then again, Weldir had never undressed her before.

“Your heart is even faster now,” he commented, his tone laced with curiosity and... mirth? His face, often stone-like in expression, didn’t change. “I did tell you why I brought you here.”

Fabricating the confidence that she usually wielded, Lindiwe pulled her arms back and let her shirt slip off when a tendril yanked at the back of her collar.

“I think it’s normal to feel a little nervous when you’re about to be intimate,” Lindiwe quipped, actually having no idea if that were true or not.

“Is it? I’m not nervous,” he asked, his head cocking before a rather wide grin spread across his lips and revealed his large fangs once more.

Even his eyes crinkled this time, making them slitted and hiding away those glossy pools of ink a little.

“And here I thought it was because you found me alarming.”

No. Just this , she thought, trying her hardest not to worry her bottom lip when his hand skated up her torso. Her abdomen muscles leapt at the featherlight touch.

Perhaps it was because of his obvious intended path, but her naked breasts felt... heavier than usual. Like they wanted to drop into his approaching palms for affection.

The suddenness of this, the fact that Weldir hadn’t asked like usual, made his conflicting slowness all the more confusing to her senses. Her mind hadn’t had time to prepare, and it had her pulse racing, while her body warmed and tingled before his hand even cupped around her left breast.

At the same time, a hand found its way under her long skirt, without even lifting it!

Lindiwe shivered and looked down to see the coy man had materialised his hand under there, while his wrist and forearm lacked any physical aspects to them.

He’d crept under there like a ghostly entity moving through solid objects.

Her thighs pressed together as more liquid pooled at her entrance, especially when his thumb brushed between them, uncaring of her squeeze. He flicked her hardened nipple with the other hand before giving her breast a nice firm knead which she pushed into.

“It’s time for this to go,” Weldir said, his voice softer in volume, and yet deeper... with a huskiness to it she’d never heard before.

Her skirt ripped down the front and she gasped when it was harshly yanked from her body to leave her bare.

The threads sewed back together, and when whatever he was using to touch it removed itself from her skirt, it turned transparent, showing that it’d stopped being intangible and once more solid.

It was completely out of his reach, and hers – unless she shifted out of her Phantom form.

“Am I going too fast?” he asked, when he tugged her thigh to the side, but wasn’t able to budget it due to her resistance.

He could have forced it if he wanted to, but she appreciated that he didn’t.

Yes. No. Both? She didn’t know how to answer that, and why this awkwardness she had about him, and this, returned to coil uncomfortably her belly. Now that she was fully exposed, her nervousness rebounded twofold.

She’d always wanted to be an active participant, rather than a doll to be played with.

“Can I touch you?” she asked, reaching out, only for her hands to pass through what should have been his chest. She fisted them in annoyance and brought them back to her sides.