#aerybel

A faint hint of a smile then, Nor letting out an idle sigh in turn. “I suppose that is true,” the Argonian began, one hand reaching up and ghosting along the edge of Aerybel’s chin. “Though I fear my lips are not exactly designed for such a task, so I’m afraid you’ll have to settle for nuzzles for the time being,” he added, leaning in to press briefly against the corner of the womer’s cheek.

“Roadtrip. Now. You and me. I know you’ve been itching to go somewhere,” the Argonian replied with another smile and held aloft a bag. “I’ve even already packed some things for you. That way we can leave post haste.”

A brief glance is aimed over the womer currently sharing the space next to him, an idle smile at his lips before he turns his attentions back to his previous commitment. The next moment, however, the Argonian suddenly feels a weight at his side, Nor glancing away from his book to find Aerybel quite obviously asleep at his shoulder. The simple sight is enough to elicit a smile from the assassin, Nor more than content to let her rest as long as she needed.

This evening was seeming to break the mold with that however, the Argonian’s body apparently in need of a bit extra rest after their day. Another yawn leaves his lips. Surely Aerybel wouldn’t mind him resting his eyes for just a moment, he thought, both his eyes and his frame drooping slightly as his fatigue overtook him.

A start when Nor hears a sudden noise close to his current spot, the Argonian lowering his dagger only when he sees just who it was. It’s a clear sigh of relief at the sight of the womer, though even he is aware of the almost panicked stare she is aiming at the very red cloth that is currently encircling one arm. “Have I mentioned how much I hate chaurus?”

“Because I’m a half-decent cook and you like my stew?” The Argonian grins lightly, gently nudging the womer’s shoulder as they walk. “At the very least you could say you’re my friend to get a good meal and quiet place to rest for the night.”

“Aerybel, if I truly hated you even a fraction of what you seem to think there would be no us. And certainly no knowledge of where I and Sophie live.” A rather troubled look. “Why would you think I hate you?”

A rather confused look crosses over the Argonian’s features. “I... What?” Nor’s brow furrows. “Aerybel, whatever do you mean by that?”