Openeth

[le_desirous]

A mug of very hot coffee with a dash of pálinka; unashamedly modern garb--jeans and a turtleneck sweater and a knit scarf; and a seat on the railing of the porch, one leg curled around a white-painted rail to keep his balance; and Sagramore is well-prepared to take what the world is inevitably going to throw at him. It always does.

Comments

[anna_morcades]

There's a light step beside him, and fingers in his hair. "Good day to you."

[le_desirous]

"How does my lady?" In a murmur, turning to her.

[anna_morcades]

"Well enough." She's in grey today, that shimmers like the surface of the lake and makes her dark hair and pale skin look vivid. Her thumb brushes the rim of his ear. "How dost thou?"

[le_desirous]

He drapes a hand loosely at her waist. "Well enough."

[anna_morcades]

Morgause leans against him comfortably, perhaps confidingly. "So, indeed?"

[le_desirous]

It's both chilling and pleasing; he kisses her cheek and leans back against the railing. "So I think."

[anna_morcades]

She smiles a little. "Could be better?"

[le_desirous]

"Certainly."

[anna_morcades]

"'Tis well to have ambitions," nestling closer.

[le_desirous]

"I know you do." He shifts his position a little and kisses her again.

[anna_morcades]

She reaches up to lay a hand against his neck, kissing back for a long moment. "Only very modest ones."

[le_desirous]

"Of course. You preserve a delicacy," moving closer.

[anna_morcades]

"I've missed thee," softer, against his chest.

[le_desirous]

"Have you?"

This attempt to be wry and distanced, in manner if not in actual physical space, is not working at all. Morgause has that effect on him.

[anna_morcades]

Her arms slip about his waist. "Ay."

[le_desirous]

"Pray, why?" even as he bends to her for another kiss.