freckle kisses

"You're very quiet, Minoth."

Not an altogether rarefied mood, but one that invited comment, from time to time. There was working quiet, and there was pensive quiet, and then there was this, a sort of restless in-between; the quiet of lips parting to speak once or twice or three or four times in a row running but never making goal on it, never quite believing.

Flora finished her current needle's worth of knitting, flipped the row counter, and almost moved on before reining herself back to count one by one and make sure she hadn't dropped a stitch. Unlikely, but possible.

"I'm thinking."

"Of?"

He glanced at her, scar lines scrunching. "Have you no patience, my lady? In time, in time."

She smirked back, and shoved at his elbow with the brunt of her arm. If she felt like being a little bit more princessy, she might mark advantage: a lady doesn't have to be patient, in her own house, when there are no guests. And Minoth, of course, was no longer only a guest.

But, she summoned her patience, and she waited. Another few rounds, and she'd start turning the heel. Just in time, too, because all of these waiting moods meant that she was just about out of stamina for repetitive rounds and rounds, around and around. It was, after all, what she got for courting not just one but two tall, broad men.

Enough about that, anyway.

While she was waiting, Addam emerged from the study and crossed to the other side of the room to settle onto the bed next to her.

"Almost finished?" he asked, fitting fingers into the open cuff of the sock and stretching it experimentally.

"Almost half-finished," Flora corrected smoothly. "Just here is the fun part, and then the tedious part, and then the boring part again." As she began the next round, the sock was snatched out of Addam's idle palm, leaving only the cast-on tail for him to grasp at, only he was always very far from catlike.

"And the tedious and boring bits are different?"

"An entire world of. I'll leave you to decide which is better or worse," said Flora, really meaning "hypothesize" and "be wrong about it, too."

"Mmm," said Addam, really meaning "I wouldn't dream of it, because I admire you so."

Circular needles for sock knitting didn't click so much as thrustle, and Addam closed his eyes to listen to them do so for some time. He also opened his eyes to peer over at Minoth, who was staring out the window at some star winking its way in.

"Thinking, Minoth?"

"As ever, Prince."

Nothing could be more satisfying, and so they satisfied themselves with it. The needles hummed on, as did Flora.

Picking his moment in between upturns of elbow, where the efficient hand accommodated at times when the working yarn slipped from the principally-passing finger, Addam leant in and placed a neat kiss in a very precise place on Flora's cheek. An outside observer wouldn't know that he was being particular, of course, but Flora could tell, because that spot was the one that always tingled pleasantly when Addam went away - physically so, not just in some strange metaphysical missing.

"Why on Alrest do you always pick that spot? I should think it's getting a little tired, by now."

"Oh, well." Addam grinned easily. "You have a very pretty freckle there. In fact, I quite like this one," kiss, "here, too. And there's one over," kiss, "here, and on your ear," kiss, "and just under your chin," kiss, "and oh, this one's very pretty too." He gave a final kiss, and then one or two or three more, before retracting into his own space. "Do you know why that must be?"

Flora didn't answer, busy as she was squinting faux-crossly at him, a grin threatening to split out from between and beneath her own lips. Minoth, instead, offered: "Permission to share with the class?"

Flora started up. "What, you agree with him?!"

Minoth laughed sharply - and very handsomely, it was, too. "You seem very annoyed to be pampered, all of a sudden."

The needles fussed in her lap. "Well...it's...woman's prerogative. Yes?"

"Absolutely," Addam nodded, hand smoothly moving to cover hers and the mess of work as well, "but go ahead, Minoth?"

"It's because you're so pretty," Minoth answered, taking full advantage of the ambiguity of who it was he was actually responding to, with logical trains of thought stowed, and rotating some quarter of a circle worth of degrees to snake his arms around Flora's waist from fore and behind.

"I'm trapped, am I?"

"That's what I was thinking about, you know. Don't know how happy I am to be sharing thoughts with our dear sweet Addam, but it is what it is."

"Is it, now?"

"Enough questions, Flora," Addam bemoaned. "I like our answers better..."