V.

V had needed to pick up some herbs, both for cooking and for smoking. Mountain had already set them aside for him, and since it was a pretty small detour on her way home from her shift at the library, she'd offered to get them on her way back. She'd meant to start getting to know some of the other band ghouls anyway since Dew had wanted her to be included on some of their outings.

The greenhouse itself was a pretty spectacular one, having been expanded over time by the many earth ghouls who made use of the space. It was good for their element, of course, helping to keep them balanced in their summoned forms, so the Ministry was willing to support the project on that basis alone. It didn't hurt that a lot of its produce was used by both the refectory and the infirmary, either.

She opened the door of the greenhouse and closed it softly behind her, peering down the rows and rows of plants, looking for Mountain.

Mountain moves slowly, calmly, giving the proper amount of care to each and every plant. The entire greenhouse blooms with his love.

"Hi," she starts tentatively. "I'm here to pick up that stuff for Papa?"

She looks familiar. Is she the one that Dew and Papa have been running with? They'd met so long ago that he's a little fuzzy on what her face looks like, but her request makes him think he's probably right.

They finally reach a small row of shelves with various paper bags that are labeled with different names. He sorts through them, scanning for Papa's name. Ah, there's one. That smells like the herbs he'd asked for. And the other...

He pokes through them again. And again. He sighs, standing back up.

An additional opportunity to look around is certainly welcome with so much variety to explore.

After he's left to fetch the supplies, she takes a closer look at the strange plants nearby.

All of the plants in the greenhouse have a faint aura that she guesses must be earth ghoul magic. Many of the ones back here are a little different, somehow. There's that, yes, but also something else.

He hadn't given her any particular warnings, but she's careful not to touch anything all the same.

She pauses near a flowering plant with large blooms that look something like lilies with doubled petals. They're a stunning deep blue with purple streaks running outward from the center of the flower, where there's an iridescence that catches her eye, draws her in.

Looking closer, she sees that the sparkle originates from the flower's stamens. It must be the pollen that reflects the light in that alien way. Now that she's closer to the flower, she also finds that it has a delicate but fascinating scent.

She breathes it in. It savors of an unknown magic.

Without realizing it, she breathes in a few grains of pollen along with the scent.

It changes things.

Her awareness of the world softens at the edges. It's a little like a gentle high in that way, loosening things. Some of her constant vigilance is unknotted. There's a dreamlike quality to her perceptions. Not so much that she feels particularly impaired, but enough that she feels a certain relaxation. The sharper points of her anxiety are worn away.

There are tiny, sparkling lights at the very edges of her vision. She doesn't really register them.

He holds it out her, then wipes a little sweat from his brow. Whew, it gets so humid in there. Temperature control is tailored for the plants, of course, not animals or ghouls. He doesn't quite have the humidity tolerance of a water ghoul.

She leaves the greenhouse, heading home, thinking of nothing. Tiny lights just at the edge of her vision.

V had needed to pick up some herbs, both for cooking and for smoking. Mountain had already set them aside for him, and since it was a pretty small detour on her way home from her shift at the library, she'd offered to get them on her way back. She'd meant to start getting to know some of the other band ghouls anyway since Dew had wanted her to be included on some of their outings.

The greenhouse itself was a pretty spectacular one, having been expanded over time by the many earth ghouls who made use of the space. It was good for their element, of course, helping to keep them balanced in their summoned forms, so the Ministry was willing to support the project on that basis alone. It didn't hurt that a lot of its produce was used by both the refectory and the infirmary, either.

She opened the door of the greenhouse and closed it softly behind her, peering down the rows and rows of plants, looking for Mountain.

Mountain moves slowly, calmly, giving the proper amount of care to each and every plant. The entire greenhouse blooms with his love.

"Hi," she starts tentatively. "I'm here to pick up that stuff for Papa?"

She looks familiar. Is she the one that Dew and Papa have been running with? They'd met so long ago that he's a little fuzzy on what her face looks like, but her request makes him think he's probably right.

They finally reach a small row of shelves with various paper bags that are labeled with different names. He sorts through them, scanning for Papa's name. Ah, there's one. That smells like the herbs he'd asked for. And the other...

He pokes through them again. And again. He sighs, standing back up.

An additional opportunity to look around is certainly welcome with so much variety to explore.

After he's left to fetch the supplies, she takes a closer look at the strange plants nearby.

All of the plants in the greenhouse have a faint aura that she guesses must be earth ghoul magic. Many of the ones back here are a little different, somehow. There's that, yes, but also something else.

He hadn't given her any particular warnings, but she's careful not to touch anything all the same.

She pauses near a flowering plant with large blooms that look something like lilies with doubled petals. They're a stunning deep blue with purple streaks running outward from the center of the flower, where there's an iridescence that catches her eye, draws her in.

Looking closer, she sees that the sparkle originates from the flower's stamens. It must be the pollen that reflects the light in that alien way. Now that she's closer to the flower, she also finds that it has a delicate but fascinating scent.

She breathes it in. It savors of an unknown magic.

Without realizing it, she breathes in a few grains of pollen along with the scent.

It changes things.

Her awareness of the world softens at the edges. It's a little like a gentle high in that way, loosening things. Some of her constant vigilance is unknotted. There's a dreamlike quality to her perceptions. Not so much that she feels particularly impaired, but enough that she feels a certain relaxation. The sharper points of her anxiety are worn away.

There are tiny, sparkling lights at the very edges of her vision. She doesn't really register them.

He holds it out her, then wipes a little sweat from his brow. Whew, it gets so humid in there. Temperature control is tailored for the plants, of course, not animals or ghouls. He doesn't quite have the humidity tolerance of a water ghoul.

V had needed to pick up some herbs, both for cooking and for smoking. Mountain had already set them aside for him, and since it was a pretty small detour on her way home from her shift at the library, she'd offered to get them on her way back. She'd meant to start getting to know some of the other band ghouls anyway since Dew had wanted her to be included on some of their outings.

The greenhouse itself was a pretty spectacular one, having been expanded over time by the many earth ghouls who made use of the space. It was good for their element, of course, helping to keep them balanced in their summoned forms, so the Ministry was willing to support the project on that basis alone. It didn't hurt that a lot of its produce was used by both the refectory and the infirmary, either.

She opened the door of the greenhouse and closed it softly behind her, peering down the rows and rows of plants, looking for Mountain.

Mountain moves slowly, calmly, giving the proper amount of care to each and every plant. The entire greenhouse blooms with his love.

"Hi," she starts tentatively. "I'm here to pick up that stuff for Papa?"

She looks familiar. Is she the one that Dew and Papa have been running with? They'd met so long ago that he's a little fuzzy on what her face looks like, but her request makes him think he's probably right.

They finally reach a small row of shelves with various paper bags that are labeled with different names. He sorts through them, scanning for Papa's name. Ah, there's one. That smells like the herbs he'd asked for. And the other...

He pokes through them again. And again. He sighs, standing back up.

V had needed to pick up some herbs, both for cooking and for smoking. Mountain had already set them aside for him, and since it was a pretty small detour on her way home from her shift at the library, she'd offered to get them on her way back. She'd meant to start getting to know some of the other band ghouls anyway since Dew had wanted her to be included on some of their outings.

The greenhouse itself was a pretty spectacular one, having been expanded over time by the many earth ghouls who made use of the space. It was good for their element, of course, helping to keep them balanced in their summoned forms, so the Ministry was willing to support the project on that basis alone. It didn't hurt that a lot of its produce was used by both the refectory and the infirmary, either.

She opened the door of the greenhouse and closed it softly behind her, peering down the rows and rows of plants, looking for Mountain.

Mountain moves slowly, calmly, giving the proper amount of care to each and every plant. The entire greenhouse blooms with his love.

"Hi," she starts tentatively. "I'm here to pick up that stuff for Papa?"

She looks familiar. Is she the one that Dew and Papa have been running with? They'd met so long ago that he's a little fuzzy on what her face looks like, but her request makes him think he's probably right.

V had needed to pick up some herbs, both for cooking and for smoking. Mountain had already set them aside for him, and since it was a pretty small detour on her way home from her shift at the library, she'd offered to get them on her way back. She'd meant to start getting to know some of the other band ghouls anyway since Dew had wanted her to be included on some of their outings.

The greenhouse itself was a pretty spectacular one, having been expanded over time by the many earth ghouls who made use of the space. It was good for their element, of course, helping to keep them balanced in their summoned forms, so the Ministry was willing to support the project on that basis alone. It didn't hurt that a lot of its produce was used by both the refectory and the infirmary, either.

She opened the door of the greenhouse and closed it softly behind her, peering down the rows and rows of plants, looking for Mountain.

Mountain moves slowly, calmly, giving the proper amount of care to each and every plant. The entire greenhouse blooms with his love.

That evening after their respective workdays had ended, V had suggested the idea and she'd readily agreed. Might as well make use of the Papal suite's generously sized shower since they had it.

In their room, she began stripping out of her habit. It had been a long day with lots of books needing to be shelved, and she was more than ready to spend some quality time with her beloved.

He pauses to work a deep mark into her neck. It's a wonder he doesn't start using his fingers on her right then and there. Really, he should get an award for his restraint.

"Would you like to take my pants off for me? They're already unzipped for you."

"Of course."

She turns to face him. She pauses to run her hands over his chest, then gets her fingers into his waistband. She pulls his pants and boxers down in one smooth motion.

V breaks away from her only to stick his hand in the shower.

He has to stand out of the spray of water to speak, but stays close enough to run his hands down her body.

"So are you, my heart."

One hand curls into the hair at the base of her neck, though it gets a little caught from how soaked it is. His fingertip catches on a knot.

"It's OK, love. It tangles if you look at it wrong."

V pulls back to look at her. She seems—

Ah, the water. Oops. Well, maybe he can still save this.

"All right. Sorry about that; I'm not sure why it wants to get in my eyes today."

"Mmm... care to reach the shampoo for me, amore?"

"Mmh. Of course."

Argh! Water in the ear!

-- and then -- what --?

She stands and looks back to see him pawing at his ear. Oh. She hates getting hit right in the ear by the shower like that. Poor thing.

She gives him a lingering kiss, then gets out of the shower and grabs a towel. She begins drying off while she waits for him to follow.

He tries to squeeze the water out of his curls as much as he can befiore he steps out. He grabs a towel to dry himself, then has an idea. It's rare that he ever wears something when he gets out of the shower, but maybe she'd enjoy pulling this towel off of his waist. Something to help her get back in the mood.

It's unfair how cute he is, really. Such a perfect figure combined with that irresistible smile.

She blatantly looks him up and down, lingering over the tent he's pitched in his towel. "Tsk. Just look at you. That's obscene. Guess you'll have to take this off."

"As you please, amore, You know your wish is my command."

"Satanas, you're so good for me," he murmurs.

"Come on, love. Please?"

She moans for him, lost in sensation, one she'd been craving for what felt like an age now, though it can't have been long at all. It didn't matter. He filled her so perfectly that it was no wonder she'd been so impatient for him.

He starts to fuck her harder, trying to pry more sweet moans out of her. Her body shakes against the mattress as he takes her. How can someone as hot as her even exist? He and Dew aren't too dissimilar after all. Their tastes line up like a solar eclipse.

Pleasure builds in his abdomen as he starts to moan softly with each thrust. He can tell they're both chasing release now while the world melts away.

"I-I'm c—"

Suddenly, an alarm blares, lights flash from the corner of the room in a blinding pattern. V lets out a shout in surprise, jolting as it startles him.

"Ugh. Guess we better do the thing," she grumbles.

The odds of it being an actual fire are probably pretty low, she thinks. Invariably it's either an electronic glitch or someone burned their lunch in a toaster oven and set off the smoke alarm.

He pulls out of her quickly and grabs the towel off the floor to wrap around his waist.

"There's a bathrobe in the closet that should fit you. Let's go, amore, this isn't a drill."

"No need. Habit's right here."

Without really registering what he's doing to get ready himself, she grabs her habit from earlier and throws it back over her head, checks her pocket to make sure she has keys, and slips her flat shoes back on.

"Pronto, andiamo."

Fire alarms are one of her least favorite sounds. She can't really cover her ears because V has hold of her hand, but he's moving pretty fast. And a good thing, too. Something about the specific noise they make is like nails on a chalkboard to her.

Somewhere between their rooms and the door, she realizes he's only wearing his mask and a towel, but there's nothing to be done about it now. She wonders why he couldn't have taken the extra five seconds to pull on pj's or something when it's probably nothing serious.

Finally.

There are a few other people filing out of the building, mainly humans. Ghouls of every kind aren't majorly affected by fire due to their home, so the braver few tend to stay inside and help those that need it: ghoul kits, human children, the disabled, the elderly, et cetera.

V shivers in the night air. It's oddly cold for a summer evening; the sun has only just set. It's not even dark.

There are some other people coming out of the place. None of them look too fussed about anything. They'll just have to wait till they get the all-clear to go back in.

She hears V's breath catch and glances over at him. There's already a blush spreading down from his face toward his chest. Figures. Ridiculous creature. He'd better hope he can keep a decent grip on that towel or he'll be in even bigger trouble.

“Amore..." he pleads. "Don't tease! I don't know what I'll do if- if..."

If she was teasing, he'd know it. Here she is trying to keep a lid on it! He ought to be grateful Dew isn't around for this, honestly. He probably wouldn't even care about the consequences of making it worse.

She'll absolutely be sending him a text describing the event afterwards, though. Silly gremlin will probably pout for a week at having missed it.

"It's just that I've been waiting so long, and I was just inside you, and I'm aching so badly—"

It's not working. Fuck, he can feel himself getting hard as he scans the people outside for anyone who could be looking at them. They're far away from the building, but he knows his mask draws attention. Satanas, he should've just gone without it; as adamant as he is about nobody seeing his face, there's at least a chance that no one would have recognized him from afar. But the mask makes it unmistakable.

He meets someone's eyes. His cock twitches.

Fuck.

Goodness. What's she going to do with him? It's like he's trying to make it worse for himself. Nobody seems to be standing especially close, but if he keeps this up it's not going to help him.

At least he's turned to face her now instead of anyone else. That's probably as good as this is going to get.

"Stay turned towards the doors as much as you can, yeah?" she murmurs. "You'll just look like you're impatient to go back in. Speaking of which, when can we go back in?"

"No," he mutters. "Take me to the chapel, fuck me there. Please, amore, I need you, I'm so fucking hard for you."

Well, it's his rodeo, she supposes. If he wants to deal with this by potentially making it worse, who is she to argue?

"If you're up for that walk, love, I won't say no. Let's go."

She leads him to the church. Fortunately there don't seem to be a lot of people nearby at the moment. It's still relatively early evening; not long past sunset. Most of them are probably finishing up a work shift or finding food somewhere.

She leads him there. "Lie down for me, sweetie. I'll take good care of you."

Lifting her dress out of the way, she guides him into her, sinking down with a soft moan. After everything that's happened today, she doubts he'll last very long, but isn't fussed about it. This is for him, just now. She's sure he'll find a way to return the favor.

He gazes up at her, struggling to keep his eyes open through the onslaught of pleasure, but he doesn't want to miss this sight. His thighs tremble as he desperately tries to hold himself together.

"S-sono—!"

She's so tight around him, so fucking wet—

She's already close when he comes. She can feel him pulse inside her, hot and hard, and it pushes her over the edge along with him.

Their cries mingle in the empty church, an offering of pleasure and love.

After a moment, she carefully eases off of him, then lies down next to him, wrapping an arm over his chest.

"Better, sweetheart?"

"Always better with you. Si, grazie."

After a while, the chill starts to get through her habit. It's probably time to go home.

"Hm. It's probably dark enough and late enough to avoid running into people. Sure, love."

She brings him home, keeping an eye out for people. Once she takes a longer way around to avoid a small group, but otherwise has no real trouble getting back.

She unlocks their suite and brings him inside.

She tosses the towel in the laundry and gets his favorite pajama pants out of the wardrobe.

"Si, I suppose I've had enough exposure for the day," he chuckles. "Do you have a red wine preference for the evening? You're welcome to take a look at the bottles."

She wanders into the kitchen to examine the bottles.

"Hm. Pinot Noir?" she calls back to him.

Before V returns to her, he checks his phone. Huh, that's weird. He'd missed a message from Dew. An audio message. That's odd, isn't it? Since when does Dew send those with zero context?

He brings his phone with him to show Hannah.

V presses play.

At first, it's difficult to make out. Soft, intermittent sounds in the background. Wait. Is that...?

V's jaw drops. It's them. He and Hannah, fucking in the chapel. There's no question about it. But that means—

Dew had been there. Somehow. Listening from the shadows. There's a quieter, but more prominent sound in the foreground of the audio. Heavy breath. Sliding, skin against skin. The sound of Dew jerking himself off.

Well, he could have done it if anybody could have, she thinks. He can move silently when he chooses. She remembers that from the hunt.

She's sorry she didn't get to actually see him afterwards, but she assumes he did it this way for V's sake. V probably loves this.

Fuck, that was hot. So, so hot.

V starts to chuckle in embarrassment. Not embarrassment for anything in the audio, but for how turned on something so gross makes him. It's ridiculous, really.

This must have been a random opportunity for Dew; he must've seen them outside somewhere between their building and the church and decided to tail them.

Well, he knows V's taste in this sort of thing in ways she doesn't tend to intuit herself. She's willing to cut him some slack in the service of making V happy. V tends to enjoy surprises the most, and he particularly enjoys something like this -- there's something in the distant nature of it all, she suspects. If Dew had revealed his presence afterwards in person it wouldn't have had the same punch.

Both glasses are poured, then a blood box is punctured open and poured into his own glass. The liquid blooms inside the wine, swirling until it turns even darker. Perfetto.

He turns to the couch and holds the blue glass out for Hannah.

She settles onto the couch and waits for him to join her, taking a sip in the meantime.

She wonders if Dew will say anything about all this to her at any point in the future. She wonders how he thought she would respond to this, if he thought of it at all. Not that it matters much. She'll see him eventually, and things will be however they're going to be. It's never possible to predict.

She does her best to shake off the questions. She's had too many where he's concerned recently anyway, and none of them really warranted.

"This is absolutely delicious with blood mixed in, do you want a taste?" He says it so automatically, in the way that he always wants her to share in his joy.

She remembers the night Dew stole a sip without realizing he'd added a blood box first. Served the silly gremlin right.

The heat on his face reminds him that he still has his mask on. Sometimes it feels like second nature to wear, at this point. But not around her. He pries it off and tosses it to the end of the couch. There, all his blushes laid bare for her.

Hannah's phone buzzes from where she left it.

The phone buzzes. "Ah. That'll be the gremlin. Nobody else ever texts me at this hour except you."

She reads the message and shakes her head. "Ridiculous creature. Guess I better reply so he knows your phone didn't explode or whatever."

Hey, honey. You will be pleased to know that Papa loved it. I think he saved your little message for, um. Later perusal. XD I'm guessing you saw us and followed us on our way there. I know you can move quietly when you choose. Sorry to have missed you myself but I know Papa's into this kind of thing. I'm sure he got a kick out of the fact that it all went down without his knowledge.

The fact that she loves him anyway is more of a judgement on her than on him, of course. Dew's always been gross. She didn't mind then and she doesn't mind now.

"If you want to invite him over, I certainly won't complain."

She snuggles in next to him. "Winding down with you sounds perfect."

She considers his next words. "I like doing that, too. I felt like it might be needed anyway after all the interruptions! Even apart from that, I like to make it a dedication in a formal way sometimes, though. I particularly liked that aspect of the night you guys were hunting me, actually. I guess -- I felt like I made more than one type of offering that night. The lust offering, of course, on the altar, but -- also an offering of fear, or the image of fear, at least. It was healthy for Dew, I think. He'd needed it.

He goes quiet for a moment, mulling over her words.

"I still don't really know how I'm supposed to be with him sometimes," she adds quietly. "He's very changeable in how he wants to interact with me. He's always been like that, I guess, and I'm willing to work with it. I just don't know what to do. Should I just back off completely at all times in an emotional sense? Even asking him doesn't always help that much. I don't think he always knows, and even when he does he's not always able to articulate it."

"The eternal question with him, it seems. It's certainly true that even he doesn't usually know, which isn't helpful. Don't back off completely emotionally, that wouldn't be fair to you, I think. You don't need to stifle yourself.

He holds her close and tenderly kisses her forehead.

"I knew what he was when I picked him up."

It was her own fault, really. She could have left well enough alone, could have kept how she felt locked in her own head where it probably belonged. Still, there had been times when it had seemed as though she'd made the right choice. He'd seemed to open up, somehow. Things had been a little more mixed of late. As if he'd simply been enjoying the novelty of it all at first and was now tired of it, retreating back into a more comfortable state.

Dew can be difficult, there's no secret about that, but it pains V to see the toll it takes on Hannah. He doesn't know what to do or what to say to help. The ghoul is erratic and confusing, though V suspects that he doesn't even realize how inconsistent he is. Even if it's unintentional, he has no right to cause so much pain.

"I think I know what to do from here. It'll be fine."

She doesn't know how to explain it. There used to be times where he really seemed to be present with her. Where it felt like it mattered. And now that's mostly gone, and there's no way to tell why, or whether it will change again, or whether she's done something wrong to bring it about. He did say he changed and that there was no real pattern to it. It's an easier thing to know than to live through directly, with the memory of past times still alive in her head.

She has nothing to complain of. Everything is the way he said it would be. It could change again sometime. There's no predicting it, nothing to know or to understand. Only to absorb.

She settles in next to V as close as she can get. He's always such a comfort. She's never sure why either of the guys put up with her, but she's terribly grateful that they do.

V finishes the rest of his blood-wine and sets the glass on the table. The drink has left him feeling calm and clearheaded, affection swelling in his heart for Hannah as she explains her pain. He wishes he could take it all away. She deserves to be happy and safe.

She finishes her own wine, setting the glass aside, and wraps her arms around him.

"I could sleep, I think. It usually helps."

She leans in for a soft, slow kiss. She's still not quite used to the way the guys carry her with so little effort when most people would be hard-pressed to lift her, but it's sweet of them to do it. Another perk of having supernaturally gifted partners, she supposes. She's gotten to experience a few things she never would have otherwise.

When he pulls back, a string of saliva stretches between their lips, tinged red with both blood and wine. Oops, it looks like she might've gotten a taste of that combo after all.

He smiles gently at her.

"Mi dispiace," he chuckles. "Let's get you comfortable now, si?"

V stands and carefully scoops her up from the couch, holding her like a princess in his arms. This is one of his favorite joys, really. Simply taking care of her. He knows she doesn't always enjoy being pampered like this, so he does his best to read her signals to know when he steps too far. This seems to be alright for now.

He carries her over to the bed and sets her down next to it. She's still standing so that he can help her out of her habit.

"I'd do anything for you, amore."

It's nothing less than the truth.

She gives him little kisses anywhere she can reach, then settles in. The shape of her body nests perfectly with his.

That evening after their respective workdays had ended, V had suggested the idea and she'd readily agreed. Might as well make use of the Papal suite's generously sized shower since they had it.

In their room, she began stripping out of her habit. It had been a long day with lots of books needing to be shelved, and she was more than ready to spend some quality time with her beloved.

He pauses to work a deep mark into her neck. It's a wonder he doesn't start using his fingers on her right then and there. Really, he should get an award for his restraint.

"Would you like to take my pants off for me? They're already unzipped for you."

"Of course."

She turns to face him. She pauses to run her hands over his chest, then gets her fingers into his waistband. She pulls his pants and boxers down in one smooth motion.

V breaks away from her only to stick his hand in the shower.

He has to stand out of the spray of water to speak, but stays close enough to run his hands down her body.

"So are you, my heart."

One hand curls into the hair at the base of her neck, though it gets a little caught from how soaked it is. His fingertip catches on a knot.

"It's OK, love. It tangles if you look at it wrong."

V pulls back to look at her. She seems—

Ah, the water. Oops. Well, maybe he can still save this.

"All right. Sorry about that; I'm not sure why it wants to get in my eyes today."

"Mmm... care to reach the shampoo for me, amore?"

"Mmh. Of course."

Argh! Water in the ear!

-- and then -- what --?

She stands and looks back to see him pawing at his ear. Oh. She hates getting hit right in the ear by the shower like that. Poor thing.

She gives him a lingering kiss, then gets out of the shower and grabs a towel. She begins drying off while she waits for him to follow.

He tries to squeeze the water out of his curls as much as he can befiore he steps out. He grabs a towel to dry himself, then has an idea. It's rare that he ever wears something when he gets out of the shower, but maybe she'd enjoy pulling this towel off of his waist. Something to help her get back in the mood.

It's unfair how cute he is, really. Such a perfect figure combined with that irresistible smile.

She blatantly looks him up and down, lingering over the tent he's pitched in his towel. "Tsk. Just look at you. That's obscene. Guess you'll have to take this off."

"As you please, amore, You know your wish is my command."

"Satanas, you're so good for me," he murmurs.

"Come on, love. Please?"

She moans for him, lost in sensation, one she'd been craving for what felt like an age now, though it can't have been long at all. It didn't matter. He filled her so perfectly that it was no wonder she'd been so impatient for him.

He starts to fuck her harder, trying to pry more sweet moans out of her. Her body shakes against the mattress as he takes her. How can someone as hot as her even exist? He and Dew aren't too dissimilar after all. Their tastes line up like a solar eclipse.

Pleasure builds in his abdomen as he starts to moan softly with each thrust. He can tell they're both chasing release now while the world melts away.

"I-I'm c—"

Suddenly, an alarm blares, lights flash from the corner of the room in a blinding pattern. V lets out a shout in surprise, jolting as it startles him.

"Ugh. Guess we better do the thing," she grumbles.

The odds of it being an actual fire are probably pretty low, she thinks. Invariably it's either an electronic glitch or someone burned their lunch in a toaster oven and set off the smoke alarm.

He pulls out of her quickly and grabs the towel off the floor to wrap around his waist.

"There's a bathrobe in the closet that should fit you. Let's go, amore, this isn't a drill."

"No need. Habit's right here."

Without really registering what he's doing to get ready himself, she grabs her habit from earlier and throws it back over her head, checks her pocket to make sure she has keys, and slips her flat shoes back on.

"Pronto, andiamo."

Fire alarms are one of her least favorite sounds. She can't really cover her ears because V has hold of her hand, but he's moving pretty fast. And a good thing, too. Something about the specific noise they make is like nails on a chalkboard to her.

Somewhere between their rooms and the door, she realizes he's only wearing his mask and a towel, but there's nothing to be done about it now. She wonders why he couldn't have taken the extra five seconds to pull on pj's or something when it's probably nothing serious.

Finally.

There are a few other people filing out of the building, mainly humans. Ghouls of every kind aren't majorly affected by fire due to their home, so the braver few tend to stay inside and help those that need it: ghoul kits, human children, the disabled, the elderly, et cetera.

V shivers in the night air. It's oddly cold for a summer evening; the sun has only just set. It's not even dark.

There are some other people coming out of the place. None of them look too fussed about anything. They'll just have to wait till they get the all-clear to go back in.

She hears V's breath catch and glances over at him. There's already a blush spreading down from his face toward his chest. Figures. Ridiculous creature. He'd better hope he can keep a decent grip on that towel or he'll be in even bigger trouble.

“Amore..." he pleads. "Don't tease! I don't know what I'll do if- if..."

If she was teasing, he'd know it. Here she is trying to keep a lid on it! He ought to be grateful Dew isn't around for this, honestly. He probably wouldn't even care about the consequences of making it worse.

She'll absolutely be sending him a text describing the event afterwards, though. Silly gremlin will probably pout for a week at having missed it.

"It's just that I've been waiting so long, and I was just inside you, and I'm aching so badly—"

It's not working. Fuck, he can feel himself getting hard as he scans the people outside for anyone who could be looking at them. They're far away from the building, but he knows his mask draws attention. Satanas, he should've just gone without it; as adamant as he is about nobody seeing his face, there's at least a chance that no one would have recognized him from afar. But the mask makes it unmistakable.

He meets someone's eyes. His cock twitches.

Fuck.

Goodness. What's she going to do with him? It's like he's trying to make it worse for himself. Nobody seems to be standing especially close, but if he keeps this up it's not going to help him.

At least he's turned to face her now instead of anyone else. That's probably as good as this is going to get.

"Stay turned towards the doors as much as you can, yeah?" she murmurs. "You'll just look like you're impatient to go back in. Speaking of which, when can we go back in?"

"No," he mutters. "Take me to the chapel, fuck me there. Please, amore, I need you, I'm so fucking hard for you."

Well, it's his rodeo, she supposes. If he wants to deal with this by potentially making it worse, who is she to argue?

"If you're up for that walk, love, I won't say no. Let's go."

She leads him to the church. Fortunately there don't seem to be a lot of people nearby at the moment. It's still relatively early evening; not long past sunset. Most of them are probably finishing up a work shift or finding food somewhere.

She leads him there. "Lie down for me, sweetie. I'll take good care of you."

Lifting her dress out of the way, she guides him into her, sinking down with a soft moan. After everything that's happened today, she doubts he'll last very long, but isn't fussed about it. This is for him, just now. She's sure he'll find a way to return the favor.

He gazes up at her, struggling to keep his eyes open through the onslaught of pleasure, but he doesn't want to miss this sight. His thighs tremble as he desperately tries to hold himself together.

"S-sono—!"

She's so tight around him, so fucking wet—

She's already close when he comes. She can feel him pulse inside her, hot and hard, and it pushes her over the edge along with him.

Their cries mingle in the empty church, an offering of pleasure and love.

After a moment, she carefully eases off of him, then lies down next to him, wrapping an arm over his chest.

"Better, sweetheart?"

"Always better with you. Si, grazie."

After a while, the chill starts to get through her habit. It's probably time to go home.

"Hm. It's probably dark enough and late enough to avoid running into people. Sure, love."

She brings him home, keeping an eye out for people. Once she takes a longer way around to avoid a small group, but otherwise has no real trouble getting back.

She unlocks their suite and brings him inside.

She tosses the towel in the laundry and gets his favorite pajama pants out of the wardrobe.

"Si, I suppose I've had enough exposure for the day," he chuckles. "Do you have a red wine preference for the evening? You're welcome to take a look at the bottles."

She wanders into the kitchen to examine the bottles.

"Hm. Pinot Noir?" she calls back to him.

Before V returns to her, he checks his phone. Huh, that's weird. He'd missed a message from Dew. An audio message. That's odd, isn't it? Since when does Dew send those with zero context?

He brings his phone with him to show Hannah.

V presses play.

At first, it's difficult to make out. Soft, intermittent sounds in the background. Wait. Is that...?

V's jaw drops. It's them. He and Hannah, fucking in the chapel. There's no question about it. But that means—

Dew had been there. Somehow. Listening from the shadows. There's a quieter, but more prominent sound in the foreground of the audio. Heavy breath. Sliding, skin against skin. The sound of Dew jerking himself off.

Well, he could have done it if anybody could have, she thinks. He can move silently when he chooses. She remembers that from the hunt.

She's sorry she didn't get to actually see him afterwards, but she assumes he did it this way for V's sake. V probably loves this.

Fuck, that was hot. So, so hot.

V starts to chuckle in embarrassment. Not embarrassment for anything in the audio, but for how turned on something so gross makes him. It's ridiculous, really.

This must have been a random opportunity for Dew; he must've seen them outside somewhere between their building and the church and decided to tail them.

Well, he knows V's taste in this sort of thing in ways she doesn't tend to intuit herself. She's willing to cut him some slack in the service of making V happy. V tends to enjoy surprises the most, and he particularly enjoys something like this -- there's something in the distant nature of it all, she suspects. If Dew had revealed his presence afterwards in person it wouldn't have had the same punch.

Both glasses are poured, then a blood box is punctured open and poured into his own glass. The liquid blooms inside the wine, swirling until it turns even darker. Perfetto.

He turns to the couch and holds the blue glass out for Hannah.

She settles onto the couch and waits for him to join her, taking a sip in the meantime.

She wonders if Dew will say anything about all this to her at any point in the future. She wonders how he thought she would respond to this, if he thought of it at all. Not that it matters much. She'll see him eventually, and things will be however they're going to be. It's never possible to predict.

She does her best to shake off the questions. She's had too many where he's concerned recently anyway, and none of them really warranted.

"This is absolutely delicious with blood mixed in, do you want a taste?" He says it so automatically, in the way that he always wants her to share in his joy.

She remembers the night Dew stole a sip without realizing he'd added a blood box first. Served the silly gremlin right.

The heat on his face reminds him that he still has his mask on. Sometimes it feels like second nature to wear, at this point. But not around her. He pries it off and tosses it to the end of the couch. There, all his blushes laid bare for her.

Hannah's phone buzzes from where she left it.

The phone buzzes. "Ah. That'll be the gremlin. Nobody else ever texts me at this hour except you."

She reads the message and shakes her head. "Ridiculous creature. Guess I better reply so he knows your phone didn't explode or whatever."

Hey, honey. You will be pleased to know that Papa loved it. I think he saved your little message for, um. Later perusal. XD I'm guessing you saw us and followed us on our way there. I know you can move quietly when you choose. Sorry to have missed you myself but I know Papa's into this kind of thing. I'm sure he got a kick out of the fact that it all went down without his knowledge.

The fact that she loves him anyway is more of a judgement on her than on him, of course. Dew's always been gross. She didn't mind then and she doesn't mind now.

"If you want to invite him over, I certainly won't complain."

She snuggles in next to him. "Winding down with you sounds perfect."

She considers his next words. "I like doing that, too. I felt like it might be needed anyway after all the interruptions! Even apart from that, I like to make it a dedication in a formal way sometimes, though. I particularly liked that aspect of the night you guys were hunting me, actually. I guess -- I felt like I made more than one type of offering that night. The lust offering, of course, on the altar, but -- also an offering of fear, or the image of fear, at least. It was healthy for Dew, I think. He'd needed it.

He goes quiet for a moment, mulling over her words.

"I still don't really know how I'm supposed to be with him sometimes," she adds quietly. "He's very changeable in how he wants to interact with me. He's always been like that, I guess, and I'm willing to work with it. I just don't know what to do. Should I just back off completely at all times in an emotional sense? Even asking him doesn't always help that much. I don't think he always knows, and even when he does he's not always able to articulate it."

"The eternal question with him, it seems. It's certainly true that even he doesn't usually know, which isn't helpful. Don't back off completely emotionally, that wouldn't be fair to you, I think. You don't need to stifle yourself.

He holds her close and tenderly kisses her forehead.

"I knew what he was when I picked him up."

It was her own fault, really. She could have left well enough alone, could have kept how she felt locked in her own head where it probably belonged. Still, there had been times when it had seemed as though she'd made the right choice. He'd seemed to open up, somehow. Things had been a little more mixed of late. As if he'd simply been enjoying the novelty of it all at first and was now tired of it, retreating back into a more comfortable state.

Dew can be difficult, there's no secret about that, but it pains V to see the toll it takes on Hannah. He doesn't know what to do or what to say to help. The ghoul is erratic and confusing, though V suspects that he doesn't even realize how inconsistent he is. Even if it's unintentional, he has no right to cause so much pain.

"I think I know what to do from here. It'll be fine."

She doesn't know how to explain it. There used to be times where he really seemed to be present with her. Where it felt like it mattered. And now that's mostly gone, and there's no way to tell why, or whether it will change again, or whether she's done something wrong to bring it about. He did say he changed and that there was no real pattern to it. It's an easier thing to know than to live through directly, with the memory of past times still alive in her head.

She has nothing to complain of. Everything is the way he said it would be. It could change again sometime. There's no predicting it, nothing to know or to understand. Only to absorb.

She settles in next to V as close as she can get. He's always such a comfort. She's never sure why either of the guys put up with her, but she's terribly grateful that they do.

V finishes the rest of his blood-wine and sets the glass on the table. The drink has left him feeling calm and clearheaded, affection swelling in his heart for Hannah as she explains her pain. He wishes he could take it all away. She deserves to be happy and safe.

She finishes her own wine, setting the glass aside, and wraps her arms around him.

"I could sleep, I think. It usually helps."

She leans in for a soft, slow kiss. She's still not quite used to the way the guys carry her with so little effort when most people would be hard-pressed to lift her, but it's sweet of them to do it. Another perk of having supernaturally gifted partners, she supposes. She's gotten to experience a few things she never would have otherwise.

When he pulls back, a string of saliva stretches between their lips, tinged red with both blood and wine. Oops, it looks like she might've gotten a taste of that combo after all.

He smiles gently at her.

"Mi dispiace," he chuckles. "Let's get you comfortable now, si?"

V stands and carefully scoops her up from the couch, holding her like a princess in his arms. This is one of his favorite joys, really. Simply taking care of her. He knows she doesn't always enjoy being pampered like this, so he does his best to read her signals to know when he steps too far. This seems to be alright for now.

He carries her over to the bed and sets her down next to it. She's still standing so that he can help her out of her habit.

"I'd do anything for you, amore."

It's nothing less than the truth.

That evening after their respective workdays had ended, V had suggested the idea and she'd readily agreed. Might as well make use of the Papal suite's generously sized shower since they had it.

In their room, she began stripping out of her habit. It had been a long day with lots of books needing to be shelved, and she was more than ready to spend some quality time with her beloved.

He pauses to work a deep mark into her neck. It's a wonder he doesn't start using his fingers on her right then and there. Really, he should get an award for his restraint.

"Would you like to take my pants off for me? They're already unzipped for you."

"Of course."

She turns to face him. She pauses to run her hands over his chest, then gets her fingers into his waistband. She pulls his pants and boxers down in one smooth motion.

V breaks away from her only to stick his hand in the shower.

He has to stand out of the spray of water to speak, but stays close enough to run his hands down her body.

"So are you, my heart."

One hand curls into the hair at the base of her neck, though it gets a little caught from how soaked it is. His fingertip catches on a knot.

"It's OK, love. It tangles if you look at it wrong."

V pulls back to look at her. She seems—

Ah, the water. Oops. Well, maybe he can still save this.

"All right. Sorry about that; I'm not sure why it wants to get in my eyes today."

"Mmm... care to reach the shampoo for me, amore?"

"Mmh. Of course."

Argh! Water in the ear!

-- and then -- what --?

She stands and looks back to see him pawing at his ear. Oh. She hates getting hit right in the ear by the shower like that. Poor thing.

She gives him a lingering kiss, then gets out of the shower and grabs a towel. She begins drying off while she waits for him to follow.

He tries to squeeze the water out of his curls as much as he can befiore he steps out. He grabs a towel to dry himself, then has an idea. It's rare that he ever wears something when he gets out of the shower, but maybe she'd enjoy pulling this towel off of his waist. Something to help her get back in the mood.

It's unfair how cute he is, really. Such a perfect figure combined with that irresistible smile.

She blatantly looks him up and down, lingering over the tent he's pitched in his towel. "Tsk. Just look at you. That's obscene. Guess you'll have to take this off."

"As you please, amore, You know your wish is my command."

"Satanas, you're so good for me," he murmurs.

"Come on, love. Please?"

She moans for him, lost in sensation, one she'd been craving for what felt like an age now, though it can't have been long at all. It didn't matter. He filled her so perfectly that it was no wonder she'd been so impatient for him.

He starts to fuck her harder, trying to pry more sweet moans out of her. Her body shakes against the mattress as he takes her. How can someone as hot as her even exist? He and Dew aren't too dissimilar after all. Their tastes line up like a solar eclipse.

Pleasure builds in his abdomen as he starts to moan softly with each thrust. He can tell they're both chasing release now while the world melts away.

"I-I'm c—"

Suddenly, an alarm blares, lights flash from the corner of the room in a blinding pattern. V lets out a shout in surprise, jolting as it startles him.

"Ugh. Guess we better do the thing," she grumbles.

The odds of it being an actual fire are probably pretty low, she thinks. Invariably it's either an electronic glitch or someone burned their lunch in a toaster oven and set off the smoke alarm.

He pulls out of her quickly and grabs the towel off the floor to wrap around his waist.

"There's a bathrobe in the closet that should fit you. Let's go, amore, this isn't a drill."

"No need. Habit's right here."

Without really registering what he's doing to get ready himself, she grabs her habit from earlier and throws it back over her head, checks her pocket to make sure she has keys, and slips her flat shoes back on.

"Pronto, andiamo."

Fire alarms are one of her least favorite sounds. She can't really cover her ears because V has hold of her hand, but he's moving pretty fast. And a good thing, too. Something about the specific noise they make is like nails on a chalkboard to her.

Somewhere between their rooms and the door, she realizes he's only wearing his mask and a towel, but there's nothing to be done about it now. She wonders why he couldn't have taken the extra five seconds to pull on pj's or something when it's probably nothing serious.

Finally.

There are a few other people filing out of the building, mainly humans. Ghouls of every kind aren't majorly affected by fire due to their home, so the braver few tend to stay inside and help those that need it: ghoul kits, human children, the disabled, the elderly, et cetera.

V shivers in the night air. It's oddly cold for a summer evening; the sun has only just set. It's not even dark.

There are some other people coming out of the place. None of them look too fussed about anything. They'll just have to wait till they get the all-clear to go back in.

She hears V's breath catch and glances over at him. There's already a blush spreading down from his face toward his chest. Figures. Ridiculous creature. He'd better hope he can keep a decent grip on that towel or he'll be in even bigger trouble.

“Amore..." he pleads. "Don't tease! I don't know what I'll do if- if..."

If she was teasing, he'd know it. Here she is trying to keep a lid on it! He ought to be grateful Dew isn't around for this, honestly. He probably wouldn't even care about the consequences of making it worse.

She'll absolutely be sending him a text describing the event afterwards, though. Silly gremlin will probably pout for a week at having missed it.

"It's just that I've been waiting so long, and I was just inside you, and I'm aching so badly—"

It's not working. Fuck, he can feel himself getting hard as he scans the people outside for anyone who could be looking at them. They're far away from the building, but he knows his mask draws attention. Satanas, he should've just gone without it; as adamant as he is about nobody seeing his face, there's at least a chance that no one would have recognized him from afar. But the mask makes it unmistakable.

He meets someone's eyes. His cock twitches.

Fuck.

Goodness. What's she going to do with him? It's like he's trying to make it worse for himself. Nobody seems to be standing especially close, but if he keeps this up it's not going to help him.

At least he's turned to face her now instead of anyone else. That's probably as good as this is going to get.

"Stay turned towards the doors as much as you can, yeah?" she murmurs. "You'll just look like you're impatient to go back in. Speaking of which, when can we go back in?"

"No," he mutters. "Take me to the chapel, fuck me there. Please, amore, I need you, I'm so fucking hard for you."

Well, it's his rodeo, she supposes. If he wants to deal with this by potentially making it worse, who is she to argue?

"If you're up for that walk, love, I won't say no. Let's go."

She leads him to the church. Fortunately there don't seem to be a lot of people nearby at the moment. It's still relatively early evening; not long past sunset. Most of them are probably finishing up a work shift or finding food somewhere.

She leads him there. "Lie down for me, sweetie. I'll take good care of you."

Lifting her dress out of the way, she guides him into her, sinking down with a soft moan. After everything that's happened today, she doubts he'll last very long, but isn't fussed about it. This is for him, just now. She's sure he'll find a way to return the favor.

He gazes up at her, struggling to keep his eyes open through the onslaught of pleasure, but he doesn't want to miss this sight. His thighs tremble as he desperately tries to hold himself together.

"S-sono—!"

She's so tight around him, so fucking wet—

She's already close when he comes. She can feel him pulse inside her, hot and hard, and it pushes her over the edge along with him.

Their cries mingle in the empty church, an offering of pleasure and love.

After a moment, she carefully eases off of him, then lies down next to him, wrapping an arm over his chest.

"Better, sweetheart?"

"Always better with you. Si, grazie."

After a while, the chill starts to get through her habit. It's probably time to go home.

"Hm. It's probably dark enough and late enough to avoid running into people. Sure, love."

She brings him home, keeping an eye out for people. Once she takes a longer way around to avoid a small group, but otherwise has no real trouble getting back.

She unlocks their suite and brings him inside.

She tosses the towel in the laundry and gets his favorite pajama pants out of the wardrobe.

"Si, I suppose I've had enough exposure for the day," he chuckles. "Do you have a red wine preference for the evening? You're welcome to take a look at the bottles."

She wanders into the kitchen to examine the bottles.

"Hm. Pinot Noir?" she calls back to him.

Before V returns to her, he checks his phone. Huh, that's weird. He'd missed a message from Dew. An audio message. That's odd, isn't it? Since when does Dew send those with zero context?

He brings his phone with him to show Hannah.

V presses play.

At first, it's difficult to make out. Soft, intermittent sounds in the background. Wait. Is that...?

V's jaw drops. It's them. He and Hannah, fucking in the chapel. There's no question about it. But that means—

Dew had been there. Somehow. Listening from the shadows. There's a quieter, but more prominent sound in the foreground of the audio. Heavy breath. Sliding, skin against skin. The sound of Dew jerking himself off.

Well, he could have done it if anybody could have, she thinks. He can move silently when he chooses. She remembers that from the hunt.

She's sorry she didn't get to actually see him afterwards, but she assumes he did it this way for V's sake. V probably loves this.

Fuck, that was hot. So, so hot.

V starts to chuckle in embarrassment. Not embarrassment for anything in the audio, but for how turned on something so gross makes him. It's ridiculous, really.

This must have been a random opportunity for Dew; he must've seen them outside somewhere between their building and the church and decided to tail them.

Well, he knows V's taste in this sort of thing in ways she doesn't tend to intuit herself. She's willing to cut him some slack in the service of making V happy. V tends to enjoy surprises the most, and he particularly enjoys something like this -- there's something in the distant nature of it all, she suspects. If Dew had revealed his presence afterwards in person it wouldn't have had the same punch.

Both glasses are poured, then a blood box is punctured open and poured into his own glass. The liquid blooms inside the wine, swirling until it turns even darker. Perfetto.

He turns to the couch and holds the blue glass out for Hannah.

She settles onto the couch and waits for him to join her, taking a sip in the meantime.

She wonders if Dew will say anything about all this to her at any point in the future. She wonders how he thought she would respond to this, if he thought of it at all. Not that it matters much. She'll see him eventually, and things will be however they're going to be. It's never possible to predict.

She does her best to shake off the questions. She's had too many where he's concerned recently anyway, and none of them really warranted.

"This is absolutely delicious with blood mixed in, do you want a taste?" He says it so automatically, in the way that he always wants her to share in his joy.

She remembers the night Dew stole a sip without realizing he'd added a blood box first. Served the silly gremlin right.

The heat on his face reminds him that he still has his mask on. Sometimes it feels like second nature to wear, at this point. But not around her. He pries it off and tosses it to the end of the couch. There, all his blushes laid bare for her.

Hannah's phone buzzes from where she left it.

The phone buzzes. "Ah. That'll be the gremlin. Nobody else ever texts me at this hour except you."

She reads the message and shakes her head. "Ridiculous creature. Guess I better reply so he knows your phone didn't explode or whatever."

Hey, honey. You will be pleased to know that Papa loved it. I think he saved your little message for, um. Later perusal. XD I'm guessing you saw us and followed us on our way there. I know you can move quietly when you choose. Sorry to have missed you myself but I know Papa's into this kind of thing. I'm sure he got a kick out of the fact that it all went down without his knowledge.

The fact that she loves him anyway is more of a judgement on her than on him, of course. Dew's always been gross. She didn't mind then and she doesn't mind now.

"If you want to invite him over, I certainly won't complain."

She snuggles in next to him. "Winding down with you sounds perfect."

She considers his next words. "I like doing that, too. I felt like it might be needed anyway after all the interruptions! Even apart from that, I like to make it a dedication in a formal way sometimes, though. I particularly liked that aspect of the night you guys were hunting me, actually. I guess -- I felt like I made more than one type of offering that night. The lust offering, of course, on the altar, but -- also an offering of fear, or the image of fear, at least. It was healthy for Dew, I think. He'd needed it.

He goes quiet for a moment, mulling over her words.

"I still don't really know how I'm supposed to be with him sometimes," she adds quietly. "He's very changeable in how he wants to interact with me. He's always been like that, I guess, and I'm willing to work with it. I just don't know what to do. Should I just back off completely at all times in an emotional sense? Even asking him doesn't always help that much. I don't think he always knows, and even when he does he's not always able to articulate it."

"The eternal question with him, it seems. It's certainly true that even he doesn't usually know, which isn't helpful. Don't back off completely emotionally, that wouldn't be fair to you, I think. You don't need to stifle yourself.

He holds her close and tenderly kisses her forehead.

"I knew what he was when I picked him up."

It was her own fault, really. She could have left well enough alone, could have kept how she felt locked in her own head where it probably belonged. Still, there had been times when it had seemed as though she'd made the right choice. He'd seemed to open up, somehow. Things had been a little more mixed of late. As if he'd simply been enjoying the novelty of it all at first and was now tired of it, retreating back into a more comfortable state.

Dew can be difficult, there's no secret about that, but it pains V to see the toll it takes on Hannah. He doesn't know what to do or what to say to help. The ghoul is erratic and confusing, though V suspects that he doesn't even realize how inconsistent he is. Even if it's unintentional, he has no right to cause so much pain.

"I think I know what to do from here. It'll be fine."

She doesn't know how to explain it. There used to be times where he really seemed to be present with her. Where it felt like it mattered. And now that's mostly gone, and there's no way to tell why, or whether it will change again, or whether she's done something wrong to bring it about. He did say he changed and that there was no real pattern to it. It's an easier thing to know than to live through directly, with the memory of past times still alive in her head.

She has nothing to complain of. Everything is the way he said it would be. It could change again sometime. There's no predicting it, nothing to know or to understand. Only to absorb.