long shadows

RONIN if there's one thing i'm good at, it's surviving Ronin opens his mouth to respond, promptly forgets whether Maeve had actually mentioned that much, closes it again and gives his husband a helpless look. "I did send back some of my hair," he confirms. "To go with your feather. And the grave dirt. But I... will check on the letter tomorrow?" His laugh is the equivalent of a shrug at this point, the Huntsman far too focused on his drink and his date (his very handsome date with his hand on his thigh) to be thinking about dirt. And of course they were going to be having breakfast in bed - it was what Ronin had promised out in Hak Etme, and he has capitalised on it at every opportunity when his husband has been home. (His caveat being that he cannot provide breakfast in bed if Remi is not in bed). "I would never dream of making you unhappy," he vows. "I'll do it maybe fifth thing in the morning, then. It shouldn't take that long to get to Torchline--" The sudden emphasis coincides with the sudden press of a hand between his legs, and aside from that and the very, very thin hairline crack along Ronin's glass where he's suddenly gripping it more tightly, he does admirably well to keep his composure. "I can promise you that you are definitely building up plenty of excitement right now," he rumbles, resisting the urge to arch his hips into the touch. "And this is taking things slow for us."