And they lived comfortably ever after, boob in hand
Charm does not dissolve simply because it is noticed and called out for being what it is. Though his gaze takes on a glittering quality as she slides right past the offer of it to neatly prove she sees him, before retreating to let him pull it about Calypso like some coat she didn't ask for despite the subtle shiver in the cold air. If anything, the response leaves him properly chuffed, and his polite grin swings wider with the promise of the challenge there.
The tug she offers is one he answers with a deft stride to close their gap, pressing in close enough to get a proper look at the amber drink of her eyes. "Calypso," he murmurs low and slow, getting a feel for the shape of it on his tongue. "My new favorite word," he grins, shameless. The recognition of him lands like a curling hand beneath a cat's chin, something not even toms are impervious to, and why would they be, it's divine to be stroked. "The one and only," he assures, head tipping faintly as if in a subtle bow. "Do you have a favorite?"
The tug she offers is one he answers with a deft stride to close their gap, pressing in close enough to get a proper look at the amber drink of her eyes. "Calypso," he murmurs low and slow, getting a feel for the shape of it on his tongue. "My new favorite word," he grins, shameless. The recognition of him lands like a curling hand beneath a cat's chin, something not even toms are impervious to, and why would they be, it's divine to be stroked. "The one and only," he assures, head tipping faintly as if in a subtle bow. "Do you have a favorite?"
Quentin
