I really think it is? [Part of the process. Also the pale pink blossoms, she doesn't think she's caught any of those before? At least it's not one she can connect to anything concerning.] Even the people who've been in relationships for a very long time can suddenly find themselves stumbling. Like my friend Gerard, or Nero and Bradley here.
[Imagine literal centuries of being with the same person. She might crave oblivion at that point, too.
That pause gives her some worry, but the laughter thereafter dispels it. She joins him, squeezing back and feeling her stomach unwind from one of its many knots.]
We really are. Goodness! Maybe it's not supposed to be such a big deal at all. I know Dion was saying times of great peril and stress also push people into things they might not otherwise do. And we have been so stressed. Then there's all these parties with kissing and dares and weird truths, and the effects each week are—
[Hold off, she's got to cough herself too. A tri-medley of petals: marigold, periwinkle, agate. She will collect them in a napkin and politely deposit them in the waste.]
...Anyway. We have each other. That's what matters.
[ he tries to politely stifle a grimace and fails. whoever this gerard fellow is, hopefully he's not quite as much of a mess as nero and bradley are.
but he nods—there has been so pressure and so many curses, and it's been a wild time that's bound to mix up their minds and hearts. he wonders if love is simpler than they make it out to be. something you feel rather than agonize in thought over. or maybe it's both. but it can't just be the latter.
he grins, wide enough that his eyes crinkle. ]
We do! We do. That's most important—that we'll never lose each other. If death couldn't separate us, then what hope does anything else have?
[ it's a reason to be optimistic. that said, he recognizes some of those colors, because—he's had them himself? go figure. their paths coincide even in this. it's strange, that in shared weakness, he feels stronger.
they'll get through this. ]
Maybe we don't have all the answers right now, but... that's okay, isn't it? Maybe we can figure it out together!
There's that smile. All tooth and the whole truth, just the way she likes to see him. Rosamund laughs.]
We absolutely will. Don't doubt it for a minute!
[She holds a moment. Then decides to hell with it? It's not so dangerous, they've done it before.
Rosamund leans up and cups the side of his face, pressing her lips to the other cheek. He's warmer than you'd expect. Softer too, though the scales are strange against her defenceless skin. She has the odd thought to press her nose in, giving her pause.
Long enough that it lingers, more time than the gesture needs. Rosamund pulls back, still close, hand still on him. The smile has faded some and her throat feels thick with something other than petals.]
Anyone would be lucky to have you, Sidon. I hope you know that much, at least.
[ this is starting to get familiar, actually—holding hands or her shoulder against his arm, kisses in greeting or comfort. it's a far cry from her discomfort the first week, where she seemed to have to rally all her courage for a dare. she's already grown. what's he been doing, meanwhile? only growing more timid.
maybe things have changed for him a little, though. because the extra second she spends at his cheek feels—different. warm and fluttery. kisses don't mean anything to him, except maybe when they suddenly do. ]
Likewise, dear Rosamund.
[ he cups a hand over hers, turning his cheek against her palm, along the grain of his scales. ]
I told you when you got here, didn't I? That you're beloved. We may only be stumbling along, but I hope you never doubt that. I've scarcely met anyone as fearsome and compassionate as you. [ more like the dragon protecting a tower than the princess sleeping inside of it. ]
Stop, stop, stop. [She laughs in a faltering stutter, waving her free hand. He's just so ready to prop her back on her feet, without question, without one hesitation. It almost knocks her over in the opposite direction sometimes.
Her thumb rubs over his cheek once. Her insides churn.
And she pulls away with a thin inhale and a settling of her shoulders.]
Thank you, for, um. Hashing that out with me. [She beams.] I'll see you later? I'm sure we'll be meeting soon. Finish your breakfast though.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[Imagine literal centuries of being with the same person. She might crave oblivion at that point, too.
That pause gives her some worry, but the laughter thereafter dispels it. She joins him, squeezing back and feeling her stomach unwind from one of its many knots.]
We really are. Goodness! Maybe it's not supposed to be such a big deal at all. I know Dion was saying times of great peril and stress also push people into things they might not otherwise do. And we have been so stressed. Then there's all these parties with kissing and dares and weird truths, and the effects each week are—
[Hold off, she's got to cough herself too. A tri-medley of petals: marigold, periwinkle, agate. She will collect them in a napkin and politely deposit them in the waste.]
...Anyway. We have each other. That's what matters.
no subject
but he nods—there has been so pressure and so many curses, and it's been a wild time that's bound to mix up their minds and hearts. he wonders if love is simpler than they make it out to be. something you feel rather than agonize in thought over. or maybe it's both. but it can't just be the latter.
he grins, wide enough that his eyes crinkle. ]
We do! We do. That's most important—that we'll never lose each other. If death couldn't separate us, then what hope does anything else have?
[ it's a reason to be optimistic. that said, he recognizes some of those colors, because—he's had them himself? go figure. their paths coincide even in this. it's strange, that in shared weakness, he feels stronger.
they'll get through this. ]
Maybe we don't have all the answers right now, but... that's okay, isn't it? Maybe we can figure it out together!
no subject
There's that smile. All tooth and the whole truth, just the way she likes to see him. Rosamund laughs.]
We absolutely will. Don't doubt it for a minute!
[She holds a moment. Then decides to hell with it? It's not so dangerous, they've done it before.
Rosamund leans up and cups the side of his face, pressing her lips to the other cheek. He's warmer than you'd expect. Softer too, though the scales are strange against her defenceless skin. She has the odd thought to press her nose in, giving her pause.
Long enough that it lingers, more time than the gesture needs. Rosamund pulls back, still close, hand still on him. The smile has faded some and her throat feels thick with something other than petals.]
Anyone would be lucky to have you, Sidon. I hope you know that much, at least.
no subject
maybe things have changed for him a little, though. because the extra second she spends at his cheek feels—different. warm and fluttery. kisses don't mean anything to him, except maybe when they suddenly do. ]
Likewise, dear Rosamund.
[ he cups a hand over hers, turning his cheek against her palm, along the grain of his scales. ]
I told you when you got here, didn't I? That you're beloved. We may only be stumbling along, but I hope you never doubt that. I've scarcely met anyone as fearsome and compassionate as you. [ more like the dragon protecting a tower than the princess sleeping inside of it. ]
no subject
Stop, stop, stop. [She laughs in a faltering stutter, waving her free hand. He's just so ready to prop her back on her feet, without question, without one hesitation. It almost knocks her over in the opposite direction sometimes.
Her thumb rubs over his cheek once. Her insides churn.
And she pulls away with a thin inhale and a settling of her shoulders.]
Thank you, for, um. Hashing that out with me. [She beams.] I'll see you later? I'm sure we'll be meeting soon. Finish your breakfast though.
no subject
but he laughs too, more easily. the documents he was looking over pop up again so he can get back to working. ]
We will, I'm sure—plenty for us to discuss. Thank you for thinking of me! [ bringing him hangover food... she's a real one. ]