Maeve
It's true. They are. She has the excuse of being young. Dumb. Isn't that what they say? When you are young they assume you know nothing. His excuse is never having done this sort of thing at all. At least, she thinks that's what his excuse is. The chuckle is a balm for her bruised heart, soothing the ache in her chest and she sighs softly at his words. "Do nice men make cookies for the other dragoons just because?" She teases half heartedly, a small smile curling on her lips as his own brush against her cheek gently. This could have been worse. She knows it. He could have taken her explanation for something else. He didn't though. He saw it for what it was. He accepted her words. Accepted her.
Things aren't perfect. They likely won't ever be perfect, but she's able to ease into something less still now. Her muscles protesting with how she's been holding herself this whole time. Maeve lets out a breath, finally allowing he jaw to unclench even as he speaks. "I'm glad too." Maeve supplies softly, looking up at him from beneath her lashes, leaning closer to him. That pull that was there before drawing her back to him and she lets it. She doesn't fight it anymore. There isn't a point in doing so. They're going to be okay. If they let themselves have this.
As the minutes pass, she lets the tension go, shifting to brace herself against the pillows as her body protests lightly at being held so tightly in one position. "We should talk more. I mean, besides this. Just in general." They haven't done a lot of talking. Just like he said. There is a lot they don't know about each other. A lot of things she wants to know. His fingers massage at the back of her head, finding the spot that's healing, having scabbed over from where she hit her head when she fell through the floor. Maeve's cheeks flush and she huffs out a soft laugh, "Yeah.. I guess I am." She peeks up at him, licking her lips as she reaches for his hand and finally moves to lay down. The bed isn't big. It's the size of standard cot, but she lays down on his pillow, gently tugging him down to lay with her.
"Is that right?" Maeve hums, facing him when he lays down beside her, eyes no longer glassy as she looks at him.
Things aren't perfect. They likely won't ever be perfect, but she's able to ease into something less still now. Her muscles protesting with how she's been holding herself this whole time. Maeve lets out a breath, finally allowing he jaw to unclench even as he speaks. "I'm glad too." Maeve supplies softly, looking up at him from beneath her lashes, leaning closer to him. That pull that was there before drawing her back to him and she lets it. She doesn't fight it anymore. There isn't a point in doing so. They're going to be okay. If they let themselves have this.
As the minutes pass, she lets the tension go, shifting to brace herself against the pillows as her body protests lightly at being held so tightly in one position. "We should talk more. I mean, besides this. Just in general." They haven't done a lot of talking. Just like he said. There is a lot they don't know about each other. A lot of things she wants to know. His fingers massage at the back of her head, finding the spot that's healing, having scabbed over from where she hit her head when she fell through the floor. Maeve's cheeks flush and she huffs out a soft laugh, "Yeah.. I guess I am." She peeks up at him, licking her lips as she reaches for his hand and finally moves to lay down. The bed isn't big. It's the size of standard cot, but she lays down on his pillow, gently tugging him down to lay with her.
"Is that right?" Maeve hums, facing him when he lays down beside her, eyes no longer glassy as she looks at him.
These violent delights
Have violent ends
Have violent ends
