// Start a tiny riot //
"I thought it might be," he chuckles, "you are such a show off." Absolutely muttered as if he isn't. "Mmm—smart though too," he says in agreement with her choice, not particularly wanting to lose sight of her right now either. He grabs for the hand she has on his chest to press a kiss into the back of it, lips lingering over her knuckles, brushing another set of affection into her just in case she already forgot.
It isn't often that he can claim Flora lacks grace. Even when she does something on purpose to be silly, there's still some shape of her hard earned athletics, but this meager feet of standing is on par with a newborn giraffe's first steps. He can't bite back the laugh that breaks free, although he knows he's in no less fine shape than her, likely much worse honestly. Even so, there's a rich satisfaction that warms him—it's a grace that they have managed to gift each other. It’s the kind of sight he could watch night after night and never grow tired of.
He grabs for her hand and a devious gleam flickers in his gaze, clearly debating whether to drag her right back to the floor, but the promise of a shared shower waylays any further ground-level mischief. With a stagger and a flail of a leg for balance, he manages to flop himself upright as well, doing his best not to tug on her hand, but just to hold it, not letting go even when he's made it back to two feet.
"Seems like that's a benefit," he says with that low appreciation returning as he trails after the best sight possible, slipping into the shower with her without hesitation. The water is a different kind of salvation than her body had been, though it can only wash away the day—she's got the night, and with the space nearly absent between them, that's not spinning down any drain soon. He reaches over her for the soap, swiping it before she can manage and working a lather up in his hands.
He presses them against the small of her back, gliding up with soapy ease to the back of her neck where he carefully sweeps her hair to one side and presses a kiss at her nape. His thumbs roll against the muscle of her shoulders, searching for any residual tension he didn't already chase out of her. "Almost a shame it's not a bit bigger," he murmurs with a low hum of disappointment, like he’s already tracing the angles for just how he could have taken her again in here.
It isn't often that he can claim Flora lacks grace. Even when she does something on purpose to be silly, there's still some shape of her hard earned athletics, but this meager feet of standing is on par with a newborn giraffe's first steps. He can't bite back the laugh that breaks free, although he knows he's in no less fine shape than her, likely much worse honestly. Even so, there's a rich satisfaction that warms him—it's a grace that they have managed to gift each other. It’s the kind of sight he could watch night after night and never grow tired of.
He grabs for her hand and a devious gleam flickers in his gaze, clearly debating whether to drag her right back to the floor, but the promise of a shared shower waylays any further ground-level mischief. With a stagger and a flail of a leg for balance, he manages to flop himself upright as well, doing his best not to tug on her hand, but just to hold it, not letting go even when he's made it back to two feet.
"Seems like that's a benefit," he says with that low appreciation returning as he trails after the best sight possible, slipping into the shower with her without hesitation. The water is a different kind of salvation than her body had been, though it can only wash away the day—she's got the night, and with the space nearly absent between them, that's not spinning down any drain soon. He reaches over her for the soap, swiping it before she can manage and working a lather up in his hands.
He presses them against the small of her back, gliding up with soapy ease to the back of her neck where he carefully sweeps her hair to one side and presses a kiss at her nape. His thumbs roll against the muscle of her shoulders, searching for any residual tension he didn't already chase out of her. "Almost a shame it's not a bit bigger," he murmurs with a low hum of disappointment, like he’s already tracing the angles for just how he could have taken her again in here.
Kaisel
// Stop being so goddamn quiet //
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
