Edmund is currently barefoot, sprawled out on his bed, with tea on the table behind him and Derry dozing in front of him, absently sketching, trying not to get too much pencil on his fingertips, and failing miserably.
"Wash," she informs him, not seeming like she's going to move any time soon. "Just met him. Apparently knows River and Simon. He's a pilot. And that's flattery. But I'll thank you for it."
He nods, a little, and leans over to kiss her on the cheek, before moving carefully to stand without upsetting her or the sleeping baby either one.
He goes to the closet and pulls one of his shirts out, turning back to offer it to her.
To be fair, he never closed the sketchbook.
To be fair, he was only drawing for a minute or so before she moved.
It would seem as though he's been drawing quite a bit, lately, as the picture is recognizable to anyone who knows Kitty as her, leaning against the door.
"Thank you," looking up with a faint, tired smile and pushing herself into a sitting position to take the shirt, beginning to undress, kicking shoes off and then pants, shirt and bra, then pulling his shirt on and buttoning it up.
One hand reaches into her jean pockets and pulls out a hairtie, and she begins finger-combing through, intending to braid it.
"Dunno what I'd do without you." Half teasing, half not. "M'sorry we left the wedding so early. I didn't really ask if you wanted to stay or not."
He takes the hairtie from her, sitting down beside her, and takes over.
Because there are certain skills no boy with two sisters can actually manage to avoid, not once he's a decent sort, and how to braid hair appears to be one that Edmund has learned.
"Honestly, I was only there because you asked me, love. I'd not met either of them. Or for that matter... almost anyone there at all, really."
He looks at her over her shoulder, rather amused, before pressing a kiss to her cheek and continuing to work his way through her hair, removing mislocated bobby pins from the wedding as he finds them.
Kitty relaxes a bit more, sighing and pulling her knees up to her chest.
"Isabel--I don't know Isabel. I mean, really, I don't. But all I could think today was that she was being hateful to Faith, and cruel, and had her priorities out of line. Faith bought her the wedding dress, and then Isabel...and she never asked me if I would be the director, she told me, and yes, I could've said no, but to be honest? I wasn't sure what she'd do if I did, and I didn't want a scene. And she didn't give me all the information and I just."
He sets down the hairbrush on the nightstand, gathering her hair and starting to section it, and takes a moment to press a kiss to the back of her neck, softly, somewhere between neck and shoulder.
"Would you like me to talk to her? To Isabel, that is. Or did you have something else in mind? Or do you just want to keep talking right now, and save other decisions for later?"
"Eating should not take so much energy. But apparently, despite not being able to see straight? Can still tell stories. Good to know."
She could move to the bed...
Nah. Leaning against the door works for now.
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"Your stories are lovely, my lovely. Who was this one for?"
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He smiles, a little.
"Not flattery. Truth."
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"River's a dancer. Simon's her brother. I've just been talking to them some." Her head tilts to look at him. "Can I borrow one of your shirts?"
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He goes to the closet and pulls one of his shirts out, turning back to offer it to her.
To be fair, he never closed the sketchbook.
To be fair, he was only drawing for a minute or so before she moved.
It would seem as though he's been drawing quite a bit, lately, as the picture is recognizable to anyone who knows Kitty as her, leaning against the door.
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Which is why she's looking at the picture, not at him, while one hand lightly strokes Derry's hair.
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"Here, love."
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One hand reaches into her jean pockets and pulls out a hairtie, and she begins finger-combing through, intending to braid it.
"Dunno what I'd do without you." Half teasing, half not. "M'sorry we left the wedding so early. I didn't really ask if you wanted to stay or not."
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Because there are certain skills no boy with two sisters can actually manage to avoid, not once he's a decent sort, and how to braid hair appears to be one that Edmund has learned.
"Honestly, I was only there because you asked me, love. I'd not met either of them. Or for that matter... almost anyone there at all, really."
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"I didn't know some--many, really--of the people there either. Course, then Isabel had to run off one of the ones I did." Bitter? Not...exactly.
Annoyed?
A bit.
Angry?
If she is, it's not in her voice right now.
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"Do you want to tell me a bit more of what happened, love?"
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He looks at her over her shoulder, rather amused, before pressing a kiss to her cheek and continuing to work his way through her hair, removing mislocated bobby pins from the wedding as he finds them.
"If you want to talk, go ahead."
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"Isabel--I don't know Isabel. I mean, really, I don't. But all I could think today was that she was being hateful to Faith, and cruel, and had her priorities out of line. Faith bought her the wedding dress, and then Isabel...and she never asked me if I would be the director, she told me, and yes, I could've said no, but to be honest? I wasn't sure what she'd do if I did, and I didn't want a scene. And she didn't give me all the information and I just."
She stops, taking a few breaths.
"I'm very, very angry."
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"... Faith was the bridesmaid you replaced?"
He sets down the hairbrush on the nightstand, gathering her hair and starting to section it, and takes a moment to press a kiss to the back of her neck, softly, somewhere between neck and shoulder.
"Would you like me to talk to her? To Isabel, that is. Or did you have something else in mind? Or do you just want to keep talking right now, and save other decisions for later?"
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