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[callmonday]

It's one of her favorite types of days.  Sunny but cool.  The sun is bright and shining while the day is cool and crisp with just a hint of fall in the air.  Oh it's coming and before she knows it, it will be here and after the leaves fall from the trees then the snow will come around cool and bright.  They had a lot of snow last year, a whole lot

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[callmonday]

The bees make her very nervous, she doesn't understand how anyone could walk among them and not be terrified of them. They always sound so angry and so pissed off, ready to sting the shit out of you. She likes what they give though, likes that they are thriving in this area, bees are becoming extinct in some parts of the country. She read that one night during the winter, in one of he many dark nights they spent together. During the winter she tends to write or to read, sometimes the radio is on but generally the nights are quiet and still. He sleeps a lot and she tries to be quiet for him.

Opening her eyes she looks at him and wiggles her toes, her butt wiggles as well but it's hard to do when you're sitting on a chair and don't have a tail. It's how she always greets him because she is happy to see him. "I added water to my cup."

[callmonday]

Despite his attempt to fatten her up she has generally retained her original shape. She has noticed his waxing and waning figure though. Not that she ever found him too heavy or too thin but she takes notice of things. Like how he looks different with the first bloom of spring as if has tightened up instead of loosened, how she has gotten grayer instead of darker. They are two clocks running in different directions. Him backward and her forwards. It's not something she speaks of often, but she takes notice.

Leaning her feet into his touch she closes her eyes again and smiles as she pushes into his palm. "He would never speak with you again if you were to water down his wine." Her grandfather still sends them wine, happily, and like last year there was a trip out to the vineyards. They are starting a yearly routine, odd, but enjoyable. "What does he have to say?" Emerson that is.

[callmonday]

Her eyebrows lift when he mentions the job in Boston, she remembers the job that they did together. She remembers that little girl that they found and returned to her parent. For a moment she wonders about that little girl and if she is doing well, there were, after the rescue, articles about the wolf that the girl claimed to see but they were never followed up. It was easy to dismiss them as the product of a terrified little girl's mind.

Scooting over in the big chair she is currently sitting in she makes a move to offer that space to him. She loves touching him, being close to him, she is hot, even when it is freezing out she runs warm and likes to press that heat against his back. "What is the job, Mastro?"

[callmonday]

Pressing to his side she moves a hand over the width of his chest and rests her head on him, listening to the slow, steady beat of his heart under her ear. So easy and slow. She once thought that it would stop before hers but now she doesn't believe that to be true at all. He will probably out live her and she is not sure how she feels about that, it's not something that she thinks about a lot.

"You don't have to go, you know. Of course you do, but I still want to tell you. If you go I will go too." They really haven't been apart much since they started seeing each other. There is no reason for them to be apart, their lives synced very well together.

[callmonday]

That makes her pause, it has been a very long time since she has been in the city. She can't even remember the last time she went fully dressed somewhere, oh, that's not true. At times they have dinner at George's while she is on two feet instead of four and she dresses up then but it's been a long time. So many people, so much noise, it's going to be a little rough going back to all that. She has grown used to his way, likes his way.

"That will be good, I will get my hair done," dyed, because, there are more gray strands then she would like. Her hand moves over his soft middle and over the buttons of his shirt. "How are your bees?"

[callmonday]

"I think they should be busy, live up to their hype." She loves the honey that they produce. In the winter there is nothing nicer then tea with some honey. Even hot apple cider with a drop or two of honey is just delicious. They have a very seasonal life style she has come to recognize, they eat what is in season and eat what grows in his garden and what they can come up with hunting. It's a very nice, easy life, she couldn't imagine living like this years ago but now she can't imagine living without him or this lifestyle.

"Dye it, get it cut," it is long, really long. Leaning back into his arm she fishes out some gray strands of hair to show him.

[callmonday]

She laughs softly at that, "no, my love you are not. I believe time is." How he can be getting younger and she older she has no idea. There was a time that she wouldn't like to live forever but then she met him and thinks that she would be partial to living with him for all that time. "It is a vanity thing I believe, wanting to get rid of them." Pushing her hair away from her face she goes back to pressing to his chest and the soft of him.

"It will feel nice, a hair cut, it's been awhile since I have had a nice haircut." She likes cutting his, she likes being able to run her fingers through his hair and the snip of the scissors. She likes that he trusts her to do that instead of Dinah. There are such crazy rumors running around about them in the town.

[callmonday]

"My whole family outside of me has lived for a long time. I believe that it is being what I am that is aging me in some ways." She thinks that because her family has a long history of living long lives that she will probably live longer then normal people in her condition but she isn't sure. She has done a lot of research but she can never be sure what is true and what just makes for a good story. Picking up his hand that is not behind her on the back of the chair, she brings it to her lips to kiss his knuckles. She has always liked his hands, so full of living and doing.

Nodding in response to his words she plays with his fingers gently and presses her palm to his. "How long would we be in Boston?" She needs to think of what needs to be packed and the like.