He so enjoys each and every sound the woman seems to offer him, that animalistic creature understanding so instinctively what each soft moan or subtle sound from within her throat so truly meant. Sound, after all, he understands far more readily then words themselves, his fractured mind so easily absorbing such things and further assuring him his own actions were so entirely correct in those moments in which truly little thought exists- the young man driven so entirely by a more instinctive need now. Her every soft reaction, her every subtle permission sees her responding in just the way he is assured she should, encouraging his actions all the more. Her own hands upon him are hardly missed, Tobias distinctly aware of the way they run across those hard plains of his chest and down towards his hips, the boy taking a distinct pleasure from such actions as her fingers trace his skin. It was a decidedly rare thing for the man to so allow hands upon him, those outside his immediate pack rarely allowed even close enough to lay a finger upon him, that wild, volatile nature seeing him flinch away from the embrace of others and yet tonight, within the dark, the man holds little reservation. Raven, after all, is trusted- perhaps beyond all others save Tetradore himself, the man willing to allow her fingers and hands upon him. Raven has never before brought harm upon him, he understands her touch, welcomes it, desires it in as much as his mind so understands those wants. He likes her hands on him.

His lips move so effortlessly from her own, the boy evidently in possession of a finesse of sorts in this regard, one so truly far removed from his usual violent, careless actions as he allows his lips to trail down and onto that soft, warm skin of her neck. It is a combination perhaps of both sides of his nature now that see him, for the first time, do far more than merely allow his teeth to indent her flesh. His lips roll over that skin, sucking lightly upon it, drawing it between his own to tease and bite and bruise all within the same motion as those flecks of gold hover somewhere within the fathomless dark of his gaze. Both sides of the man, after all, are entirely prone to that idea of possession within its rawest form. It is instinctive, animalistic, basal in nature and yet for all those parts of the boy that remain decidedly human there are parts too that are entirely content to be as any young male within the prime of his very existence- branding his territory as best he knows how. Claiming his property in a fashion entirely designed to ensure all others might be given to see it.

It is only then, once he is satisfied with that bruising kiss that he moves to draw his lips away from her, hands still entirely content to explore the softness of her frame, running over ever swell and curve with a gentleness so many believe him incapable of and yet the truth of the matter is surely far from that. He is entirely capable of care, just as he is entirely capable of kindness when he should chose to show it. More so the boy is simply volatile at best, his moods potent and powerful and abrupt to swaying in one direction or another as quickly as a wildfire exposed to the wind. He is...unstable perhaps and yet such is merely the result of the world itself and the life he had lived for so long alone and upon the streets. He had learned to survive by being unpredictable. After all, it was the unexpected that so forever destabilised others and so afforded him the upper hand in near all situations. Whether the boy is truly insane or more so, intelligent enough to pretend he might be in order so have others cater to his needs remains to be seen. His mind far sharper, far quicker then so many afford him credit for and yet in moments such as this he is entierly capable of drawing his focus to one area alone, to one task, his mood holding firmly upon simple want and too- the very human desire to so show his girlfriend how it is he feels without the need for the words that so often escape him. Words are difficult, words are hard- but this is not. The physical is far, far more simple for him, this simple act of gentleness is, perhaps, the truest expression of his emotion in the only way he truly knows how and as such- each time she surely seeks to push him away that confusion afflicts him only further. He does not always understand her hesitation so much as he understands on some level that she rejects that very attempt to display his own emotion in a way words cannot for one whom has hardly mastered them.

It is perhaps, the simplest of tragedies. Tobias so entirely designed to misunderstand her nervousness and insecurity in a physical action as she too perhaps, does not so fully understand his own desire to show her what he cannot say. The pair in this caught within a hopelessness of sorts and yet within that lanky deviant so exists a continued desire to simply continue to try, even if such efforts so far have proven little more then fruitless. His fingers so finally find that waist of her jeans, plucking at the hem with a decided want that the woman can surely feel against her all the same, those dark eyes finally returning to her own in a silent request to so finally remove the last of those barriers the boy is assured are entirely within his way. The words that so find him however see his features frown, head tilting softly at this sudden mention of Tetradore- any thought of his favoured companion truly far from his mind in those moments and yet as to what thoughts truly exist within Tobias remain to be seen all the same. Bridie moves then, Tobias shifting to allow her as she sits more upright, her lips pressing to his forehead as that black hair tumbles back into his gaze as those fractured memories so flicker within the confines of his mind. He remembers with a near faultless clarity Tetradore so refusing to allow him within his room for so many weeks just as he remembers too that sting of venom upon his neck and his companion anger at these games he had played with Nadya. He remembers.

Whether or not he so truly understands her words remain to be seen, confusion still clear within his gaze, that fractured mind so attempting to piece together these connections. He understands, perhaps, some of these words she offers him- that Tetra will surely be mad at him if he does, though Birdie herself will not stop him and yet within this single moment she presents him with a choice so....beyond his abilities to comprehend. She is asking that fractured creature to make a moral choice. To display a higher order of thinking beyond his own wants and so consider consequence of action. The struggle upon his features is evidently clear, frustration so marked upon his features and yet it is hardly at the woman herself that such an emotion presents herself. It is at the affliction of his own mind, that inability to understand what he struggles so desperately too, his mind very near aching in an attempt to place such thoughts together before those stuttered words finally come.

"Birdie...not....want me to....make Tetra...mad?"

It is a desperate grasp at the situation, his ideas not to terribly far off though perhaps misguided in his attempts to understand that it is her respect for his relationship with his companion that so guides her own actions. That it is she who seeks to protect him and perhaps save him from his own decisions in this and yet the decision remains his own, Tobias continuing to rest very near within her lap as he struggles so desperately to perceive this situation- the strain of it surely evident upon his features- her mention of him being angry with her seeing those youthful features frown once more in a look of confusion for such an emotion.

"Not mad."

He utters simply, of this he is entirely assured, Tobias capable in the least of identifying the presence or absence of this emotion alone before he falls into silence again, needing that silence to so try to understand before his gaze lifts to Birdie at last once more and the boy moves to softly, slowly, roll himself from her and onto his back on the grass beside her- gaze cast upwards as if his attention remains on something he can see in the sky above.

"Birdie wants....Tobi to....ask Tetra."

His words falter, if only slightly, that flicker of gold so resounding within them though his gaze continues to stare upward and towards the sky for several moments before his head at last turns to face her.

"He promised. I didn't. I think though your still not ready to give either of us that. I think when you're ready, truly ready, you won't find any reason to stop."

It is the softest of smiles that traces his lips then, Tobias so leaning forward to press his lips to her cheek before rolling back against the grass and losing that gold utterly and entirely as the lanky young man continues to lay beside her.

"Can we....ask Tetra.....right now?"

That this is not wholly practical has not occurred to him, Tobias evidently, quite content to solve such a problem here and now.

madness, as you know, is like gravity: all it takes is a little push