The icing on your cake, the cherry on the top
The sound of her laughter warms him immediately, making it more difficult than it should be to properly tease her around the buoyed tilt of his smile. He does manage it of course, he always will. The swift rebuttal of her breath and hand sends his laughter free now, as though no matter how soft the strike, it’s enough strain to undo the barely contained joy. He leans back with it, unable or just unwilling to take his eyes off her, forcing a sly look even as he shakes his head back and forth. He’d not speak to the fact that sometimes she let Spice steer, or that maybe her decrease in dings is correlated to her spending less time in the Sugartide now that it’s not her house. ”Oh is that what it is? Mm, and when is her character arc over with?” he wonders with enough innocence to almost seem honest. ”Or does that just mean every time you continue to ding her, you’re just doing it for the plot?” Very Flora coded to bang up her own shit for some luls.
At the baseless accusation that he is the one to blame for all this, he can’t help but remove his hand from hers and hold it up in deference. ”Look, you ask me to swab the decks, so I can’t help it if that proves distracting. I really have to drop it low to manage the task, because I’d hate to leave a spot unattended properly.” He leans in towards the end, voice pitching lower with each word until it ends in just a whispered buzz near her ear. His hand drops back towards her, but instead of reclaiming her fingers, his palm rolls from her knee up her inner thigh, just far enough to be dangerous before withdrawing. He straightens up beside her as the drinks are delivered, really earning brownie points with this waitress so far.
Claiming his glass with a clink against her miniature pool for a good morning toast, he tips some back with an amused hum at her continuation of interdimensional woes. ”Now this sounds like something only your husband should know. Are you sure you trust me enough with this intel?” Not waiting even a moment for a response he plows ahead, talking around his next sip, the glass echoing back some of his words. ”Sounds to me like you need more butter and cheese. Usually fixes my problems.”
At the baseless accusation that he is the one to blame for all this, he can’t help but remove his hand from hers and hold it up in deference. ”Look, you ask me to swab the decks, so I can’t help it if that proves distracting. I really have to drop it low to manage the task, because I’d hate to leave a spot unattended properly.” He leans in towards the end, voice pitching lower with each word until it ends in just a whispered buzz near her ear. His hand drops back towards her, but instead of reclaiming her fingers, his palm rolls from her knee up her inner thigh, just far enough to be dangerous before withdrawing. He straightens up beside her as the drinks are delivered, really earning brownie points with this waitress so far.
Claiming his glass with a clink against her miniature pool for a good morning toast, he tips some back with an amused hum at her continuation of interdimensional woes. ”Now this sounds like something only your husband should know. Are you sure you trust me enough with this intel?” Not waiting even a moment for a response he plows ahead, talking around his next sip, the glass echoing back some of his words. ”Sounds to me like you need more butter and cheese. Usually fixes my problems.”
Kaisel
The perfect mix of Saturday night and the rest of your life
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
