we might just get away with this

Maeve

Maeve can't help the soft laugh that bubbles up in her chest at the growls her offers, knowing that he's agreeing with what she's saying despite the fact that she can't understand him like this, something that they might want to address. She draws her hand back when he goes to move, flexing his toes to unsheath his claws, the tips of them clicking against the wood of the table. Her brows raise at the sheer size of him, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth, reaching forward to take one of his paws into her hand as if to compare the size of it to her own palm. It easily covers her hand, the pads of his paw extending past the tips of her fingers, but he draws away to shift back.

"The Frey I met wasn't the same as the Frey you saw. They have two parts and the Frey that reigns over nature is much kinder than the one who reigns over sex." Maeve huffs, shaking her head as she turns to look at him, a smile curling on her lips. She was happy for him. Thrilled even. He had been so worried about how things were going to go, but this outcome was better than they could have hoped for.

She leans back against him, snuggling into his side, dropping her head to nuzzle his shoulder with a soft hum. "And yourself, mon amour." Maeve murmurs, pressing a kiss against his throat, breathing in deeply, the smell of the sea and sweet flowers cleaning to his skin. "I knew Frey was going to be a good match for you."

But the cut of your love never hurts, baby
it's a sweet butter knife