[ tighnari's heart twists in his chest, a little, going out to cyno with ease. many matra have walked these halls before, and many more still will, after cyno - their jobs are difficult, stressful, even violent. it's no wonder they seek the perfumed comforts of sumeru's finest brothel.

gently, tighnari's hands move against cyno's back, padded fingertips rubbing into tense muscles, helping to ease the tension from them. ]

I'm nothing special. I'm just a courtesan.

[ he's good at his job, yes, tighnari can admit to that much, but much of what cyno's saying he's sure is brought on only by the sweet afterglow of their pleasure. tighnari's kisses continue, moving to the corner of cyno's mouth, seeking his lips. ]

You're the one out there protecting Sumeru. Being a matra is often a thankless job.