Deimos
He laughed, shaking his head as he scrawled out one more name and then placed his focus back upon her, punctuating the rumble with his lips drifting over hers. “Nor will I,” wrinkling his nose, leaving the tease there for her; leaning across the counter again to keep her mercilessly caged between his arms, as more plotting rambled through. “Would you want to go on a date night soon?” Between their constant necessities and attention in Halo, their family, and a myriad of other quandaries each and every day, Deimos truly couldn’t recall the last time they’d had opportunities and moments for themselves or one another. A sobering thought he’d like to extinguish. “Whatever you happen to crave,” offered on a grin, leaving the opportunity and choice up to her.
Micah’s added commentary earned a snort, his head tilting at Evie’s details of space for impending companions. “Fair enough.” Zuriel already had the run of the house, as a unicorn, and considered herself much too prominent and wonderful to ever be situated in a barn. Deimos had to agree, based on how many times she’d saved lives. Belial and Micah had already made themselves a whole assortment of beds. A frost fox would likely be no different, and he couldn’t see Erebos not taking the thing around wherever he went.
“I am too busy to get fat,” as he often reminded her at the chiding, the gaze still fond. Between running amidst the patrols, his own workouts along the barracks, hunting, tracking, fighting, ensuring Halo flourished, and chasing after their son, the food he wolfed down probably still didn’t quite make up for all the deficits. “But I doubt anyone in this house would say no to baking.”
Considering the excitement of Remi and Ronin’s impending child(ren), Deimos granted another smile. “And it is not like I cannot make more.” Shrugging, because he wasn’t bothered by either accord or the sentimentality of baby clothing, he still didn’t mind the thought of overpreparation. Would probably be doing it again. “Nothing wrong with having too many,” for either family, he supposed.
Micah’s added commentary earned a snort, his head tilting at Evie’s details of space for impending companions. “Fair enough.” Zuriel already had the run of the house, as a unicorn, and considered herself much too prominent and wonderful to ever be situated in a barn. Deimos had to agree, based on how many times she’d saved lives. Belial and Micah had already made themselves a whole assortment of beds. A frost fox would likely be no different, and he couldn’t see Erebos not taking the thing around wherever he went.
“I am too busy to get fat,” as he often reminded her at the chiding, the gaze still fond. Between running amidst the patrols, his own workouts along the barracks, hunting, tracking, fighting, ensuring Halo flourished, and chasing after their son, the food he wolfed down probably still didn’t quite make up for all the deficits. “But I doubt anyone in this house would say no to baking.”
Considering the excitement of Remi and Ronin’s impending child(ren), Deimos granted another smile. “And it is not like I cannot make more.” Shrugging, because he wasn’t bothered by either accord or the sentimentality of baby clothing, he still didn’t mind the thought of overpreparation. Would probably be doing it again. “Nothing wrong with having too many,” for either family, he supposed.
i rule the stars, not the other way around
