and it's Selene the bipolar! Srsly though--If I ever get a custom title, it'd likely be "LE QUEEN VIRGIN." 
'cause she so...childish. ;-;
She hated that she had made it awkward for the two of them, regretting ever speaking. Now how was she to show him that she loved him? How? She whined softly in her throat, pushing her muzzle into his body. She longed to apologize again, surely he had never had a girl so clueless before. Small fingers distractedly swirled soothing trails upon his back, nervous as she could ever be. And that would likely be an insult to him, that she was scared. Selene wasn't supposed to be, this was right! The young woman settled into him, shivering softly. No--This was not the time to cry. Not the time to look overly stupid, and worse than she usually looked.
At his embarrassed words, large ears perked slightly. He hadn't before? She had...But to come to think of it, none of them had been with someone she truly cared about. And with Hadley, perhaps drunk--Zero feelings resided in her heart for the man that betrayed her. There was no reason to make Fritz feel bad about it, and instinctually she took the more positive outlook. Her former lover had probably had tons of other times. And he was a man-whore. So with her mate...It filled in that uncertain spot, gave her that reassurance that the future would be for the two of them. That's nothing to worry about--Not at all. Selene said softly, looking up to gently kiss at his muzzle. She was surprised, wondering for the reason for his chaste. Surely, there had to be individuals out there--Wanting him. Surely his abstinence had to be out of his own choice. Softly, she cradled his face in her small hands and kissed his nose softly, I love you, always. Selene whispered, vowing herself to him. They were mates, no longer just lovers. Bound by whatever it was, that kept them faithful. That kept them loving each other. Maroon eyes softly closed, thinking for a moment. She was no great lover, in that way. But softly, she inquired Is this what you want? Us...And that? I mean-- She took one of his hands and slid it up under his shirt she was wearing, letting his palm softly run along the scars that decorated her legs, tears in her eyes. I'm not...I'm--Not pretty. These--I'll have forever... She looked down, those were mostly by her own doing. Some from the raid...But those were pain marks. Lines made when lost in thoughts of suicide, loss and inadequacy. Her muzzle tipped down, finding herself releasing his hand and laying her thin maw against his shoulder. A pink tongue idly kissed his neck, for sure she would crush him. Make him feel bad for her own fears.
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