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She's beautiful, sitting upon that throne, specifically made for her. Long, dark hair cascading down her shoulders, down her back. Komaeda had the honor of being able to wash it for her recently. Being in her presence was an honor; being tolerated by Kamukura was more than she could ever have asked for.
Komaeda sat, knelt in between her legs, something that began happening much more often. Kamukura had been kind enough to give her a pillow to kneel on, though Komaeda didn't deserve it. She had her arms draped over Kamukura's lap, the chain of Komaeda's collar wrapped firmly around her hand. This forced her head to rest against Kamukura's thigh, not that she minded in the slightest. Komaeda enjoyed the view.
What she enjoyed far more than that was the hand buried in her hair; Kamukura was practically petting her. Another recent development from her. Komaeda must have something awful in store for her after this, yet she couldn't find it in her to care all that much. Not when she felt the gentle drag of Kamukura's nails against her scalp, Komaeda couldn't be bothered to be ashamed of the whine she let out.
She shouldn't have the privilege of being able to enjoy this, the almost tender care that Kamukura has given her. It almost scares Komaeda, being touched by her. How Kamukura could know everything about her, everything that made her what she was. How she has seen Komaeda's flawed body bare, how she has seen the unstable nature of her mind. Every reprehensible thing about her, but she's still allowed Komaeda by her side. Knowing all this and touching her anyways. The possibility that this is more than a rare moment of warmth between them.
The very real idea that this could be acceptance.
She lifted her gaze to look upon Kamukura once more. She was perfect. Everything about her was divine. Kamukura didn't comment on Komaeda's often obvious displays of love and affection towards her. Yet she felt she should be a little embarrassed by how Komaeda was looking at her. She held nothing but pure adoration for Kamukura. 'Lovesick' is the first word to come to mind.
She believes that Komaeda's charms— whatever those were—began to affect her. She held a certain fondness for Komaeda. One that she had yet to find in another person, she doubts she ever will again. While she wasn't particularly interested by Komaeda on a day-to-day basis, she found that over time, she wasn't bored in her presence either. Was she content, maybe? She figures that must be why things between them became more intimate. Like now, for example. She wanted Komaeda close, wanted to keep her in her grasp. Each day she spent, she found she was rather aimless without her. She'd never admit that to Komaeda aloud.
Knowing her she would start going on one of her long-winded rants, Kamukura didn't need the headache.
Having Kamukura's attention on her like this, for no true reason, made her feel desperate to thank her. Show her how devoted Komaeda was to her, that no gift given to her was taken for granted.
Komaeda wanted to worship her. It was a selfish wish. Wanting to hold her, place gentle kisses anywhere Kamukura would allow.
"Komaeda, if there is something you wish to ask for, do so."
"Please, I know I'm not worthy of it, but let me thank you, worship you, like you deserve." Komaeda nuzzles against her thigh, eyes never leaving Kamukura. Wordlessly, Kamukura lets the chain unravel from her hand, giving Komaeda the freedom to do as she wishes. Komaeda removes herself from Kamukura's grip, sitting back on her heels.
Her hands are shaking; this had to be some sort of test. Komaeda lingers close to the floor, giving Kamukura a pleading glance. She only shoots Komaeda an expectant look.
That's all she needs, carefully placing a hand under Kamukura's ankle. She lifts it, ever so slightly, pressing a gentle kiss to the exposed skin there. It was soft against her cracked, chapped lips, and she shuddered at its feel. She whispered praises into the cloth of Kamukura's pant leg; she knew this was pointless; Kamukura did not need to be told how great she was. She already knew.
That didn't deter Komaeda, of course. Kissing up her leg as her hands moved with her, hesitantly settling on Kamukura's hips. Pausing for a moment, only continuing when there was no objection to such an act.
"Kamukura is so generous, truly the embodiment of hope, to be letting me defile you like this…" Kamukura only let out a scoff at the comment, though there was no real irritation behind it. Komaeda soon found herself between Kamukura's thighs again; she never wanted to leave them. Komaeda continued, desperately wishing Kamukura were bare, allowing her to leave marks there. She quickly stamped out the thought; this was too much already— she couldn't bear to dirty Kamukura's skin any further.
No matter how her heart quickened at the idea.
Her hands left Kamukura's hips, taking her hands into her own. Always looking up at Kamukura, always expecting to be told no. Yet that never came. Komaeda pressed her lips to Kamukura's knuckles, which felt more intimate than she ever could have imagined. She loved that she was able to do this with Kamukura. Komaeda loved that she— if even a little— was entertained enough by this to allow her to keep going.
She loved Kamukura deeply. Beyond what her talent offered now, she truly was perfection. Komaeda feels like she can finally see it now, why her luck has twisted her life the way it did. All the loss— the forced isolation it gave. It led up to this moment, to allow her to fully dedicate her being to the God in front of her.
She never believed in the idea of God. No entity in such a position of power could ever be all-knowing and merciful. Komaeda got it now, why people gave their lives for God. Now that she was sitting right in front of her. How lucky she was that Kamukura chose Komaeda as her loyal servant.
She focused on Kamukura again; she's perfect— it makes Komaeda's heart flutter in her chest.
"I love you, Kamukura. I'm yours for as long as you'll keep me." She said it almost breathlessly, this would not be the first time she has said this to Kamukura, not by a long shot. It feels different this time, though.
Kamukura takes her face into her free hand, running her thumb—borderline lovingly— over her cheekbone. Komaeda is torn between pulling away and leaning into it, accepting her acceptance. She knows she would be a fool to reject a gift such as this. Kamukura seems pleased with her decision.
"Come here, Komaeda." As much as she wanted to stay, she stood. Kamukura grabbed her chain, pulling it and making Komaeda's face level with hers.
"Who else would you belong to if not me?" She kept her voice low, something she wanted only Komaeda to hear. Then, without wasting a moment, kissed her. Komaeda felt on the verge of tears as she returned the act, feeling so content yet terrified at what this could mean. What her luck would do to take Kamukura away from her.
Kamukura pulled away, if only for a second. "Have a bit more faith, Komaeda."
She nodded. If Kamukura said it, then she might as well do so. Looking pleased, Kamukura kissed her again.