Ever lets a low chuckle slip, brushing his thumb idly along the line of her back as he answers, "Happy to help with burying it, though perhaps not in the Fingers." The tilt of his voice holds that same dry undercurrent he always seems to manage, even as his lips linger against hers just a fraction too long to be entirely polite.
When he pulls back, there’s a soft flush on his cheeks that has little to do with the wine. "No, nothing nearly as eventful. After shopping I...finished up some paperwork. Then some reading." His shoulders shifting faintly as though running through the mental ledger of tasks ticked off one by one.
The sound at the door catches his attention just as it had hers; his head cocks to the side in a decided canine angle until the bustle resolves into nothing more than passersby. Only then does he glance back, mouth tugging into a tired smile. "Selfishly, I hope so as well," he agrees.
There’s the briefest pause—hesitation, calculation—before his gaze drifts lower, affectionate and warm. "Could I tempt you to slip into something more comfortable?"...Or nothing at all? I did run you a bath, though you’ll likely need to heat it yourself as I believe the water temperature will be far lower than you like it to be." His eyes flick toward the door of the bathroom, one hand sliding into his pocket as if to keep himself from swaying her decision with the movement of his fingers against her skin
When he pulls back, there’s a soft flush on his cheeks that has little to do with the wine. "No, nothing nearly as eventful. After shopping I...finished up some paperwork. Then some reading." His shoulders shifting faintly as though running through the mental ledger of tasks ticked off one by one.
The sound at the door catches his attention just as it had hers; his head cocks to the side in a decided canine angle until the bustle resolves into nothing more than passersby. Only then does he glance back, mouth tugging into a tired smile. "Selfishly, I hope so as well," he agrees.
There’s the briefest pause—hesitation, calculation—before his gaze drifts lower, affectionate and warm. "Could I tempt you to slip into something more comfortable?"...Or nothing at all? I did run you a bath, though you’ll likely need to heat it yourself as I believe the water temperature will be far lower than you like it to be." His eyes flick toward the door of the bathroom, one hand sliding into his pocket as if to keep himself from swaying her decision with the movement of his fingers against her skin
I will not be brave
but i'm grateful to get through
but i'm grateful to get through
