Maeve
When did he get so charming? Did Ronin give him lessons or something? Not that he wasn't charming before, but it seems to have amped up and she kind of loves it. Her cheeks flush and she huffs out another laugh, shaking her head at him. "And full of yourself. What a surprise." Maeve teases him, not daring to inflate his ego anymore even if she does agree. He is handsome. In a rugged sort of way. All tan skin and messy curls. Not to mention his eyes. That's probably her favorite thing about him. One of her favorite things. There are a few different items on that list. Not that she's going to tell him so easily.
The way he looks at her out of the corner of his eye, brows arched and lips quirked in an expression that confirms it's totally fucking weird. Okay. Fair. It is weird. It's just never come up. Maeve wrinkles her nose, finishing off the last bite of her roll before washing it down with the final dregs of her tea. "What do you even wear to do something like that? Just anything?" She asks, pushing away from the counter to go toward the small chest that's acting as her wardrobe. Maeve digs around inside, lips pursed as she considers her fairly slim options. Eventually she finds a pair of cotton shorts and a tank top she thinks will have to do.
Not ever to be shy about her nudity, Maeve strips right in the middle of the living room, tugging off her pajamas to change into the clothes she pulled out. The bruises are basically gone. A faint yellow tinge covers majority of her torso from the worst of the bruising, but it's quickly covered back up by the tank top, "Oh.. He has jokes. I see." She rolls her eyes, grinning at him as she pulls her curls from the neckline of her shirt.
She makes her way back over to him, crossing her arms over her chest, "Alright, sir. Not really sure how you play in puddles, but I guess I can learn." Maeve says with a little grin, arching her brow as she waits for him to lead the way.
The way he looks at her out of the corner of his eye, brows arched and lips quirked in an expression that confirms it's totally fucking weird. Okay. Fair. It is weird. It's just never come up. Maeve wrinkles her nose, finishing off the last bite of her roll before washing it down with the final dregs of her tea. "What do you even wear to do something like that? Just anything?" She asks, pushing away from the counter to go toward the small chest that's acting as her wardrobe. Maeve digs around inside, lips pursed as she considers her fairly slim options. Eventually she finds a pair of cotton shorts and a tank top she thinks will have to do.
Not ever to be shy about her nudity, Maeve strips right in the middle of the living room, tugging off her pajamas to change into the clothes she pulled out. The bruises are basically gone. A faint yellow tinge covers majority of her torso from the worst of the bruising, but it's quickly covered back up by the tank top, "Oh.. He has jokes. I see." She rolls her eyes, grinning at him as she pulls her curls from the neckline of her shirt.
She makes her way back over to him, crossing her arms over her chest, "Alright, sir. Not really sure how you play in puddles, but I guess I can learn." Maeve says with a little grin, arching her brow as she waits for him to lead the way.
And I was catching my breath
Staring out an open window
catching my death
Staring out an open window
catching my death
