#deadrest

@deadrest asked: ( ˶˘ ³˘(⋆❛ ہ ❛⋆)!♡

The   moment   lips   met   Sigrika's   apple   cheek,   her   ivory   visage   blossomed   into   a   deep   crimson.   

"I-I...."   she   hardly   knew   what   to   do.   The   man   before   her   was   beautiful,   it   was   a   definite   underestimate   to   say   she   was   'flustered'   "I...   um   ...   t-thank..........you?"

"I can't sleep ..."

the hour is late, and yet sunday remains in his office like a man who does not know how to stop. but the voice at the door does. he looks up. the sight gentles his expression. a small smile emerges.

❛❛  i apologize.  ❜❜     the words come easily, practiced perhaps, but no less sincere. ❛❛  i did say i would join you shortly.  ❜❜ a promise delayed but not forgotten. he knows sleep often evades logos when he isn't there. a quiet dependency he neither encourages nor refuses.     ❛❛  do you mind waiting just a bit longer ? i am almost done.  ❜❜ he asks as he gestures towards the couch.     ❛❛  can i get you some milk and honey ? it might help you fall asleep faster.  ❜❜

logos would love to pet the kitty, but alas, most animals are afraid of him.

would the general help a lost banshee?

"Happy Valentine's Day." Logos offers a small decorative box that contains chocolate-covered strawberries.

sunday's gaze lingers on the decorative box.   chocolate-covered strawberries glossed in dark shine.   he swore those off years ago for discipline had seemed easier without small luxury.   but,   they look as tempting as he remembers.   surely order can survive a single strawberry for one evening.    ❛❛  that is very sweet of you,   logos.  ❜❜     the halovian says as his eyes lift to the other.     ❛❛  i recognize them.   they're from that shop we passed a few days ago.  ❜❜     his footsteps had come to a halt there to take a look.   perhaps a second too long.   attention to details is its own kind of affection,    and it stirs something within him.

❛❛  happy valentines day,  ❜❜     the words are a bit softer than usual.     ❛❛  i must confess,    i did not buy any chocolate.   but i did take the evening off.   i thought   ...   perhaps we might have dinner together ?  ❜❜

May he have head pats from Endmin? Watch his wings, unless you want to take a nap.

unprompted. || always accepting

─「ᚾᛟᛁᚱᛖ」─  the way he was lowering his head as though he wanted her to pat him prompted a quiet smile on her lips. he was tall, but quiet and reserved. his unsaid request was met willingly with her hand reaching out to place on his fine strands. she was, of course, being careful not to touch the dark wings donning the crown of his head. she was told to watch them, though not really knowing why. her touch was gentle, treading her fingers through his strands that were surprisingly soft. they were like silk.

The banshee attempts to scoot closer. "You're warm."

sunday had been lost in his book to fully notice the chill settling into the room,   or the banshee curled beside him on the sofa.   he had been listening idly to the low hums and the whistling of a tune whilst reading.   it is only when the other remarks quietly that he is warm that sunday becomes aware of the temperature at all.   the temperature is not cold,   just slightly neglected.   the fire in the hearth has begun to dim.     ❛❛  i apologize,  ❜❜     he says,   already rising.     ❛❛  it seems i was so absorbed in my book that i forgot how to be a proper host.  ❜❜     a few logs added to the fire.

when he returns to the sofa, he draws the blanket with him,   settling it over both their laps.   as he sits,   their legs brush.   sunday does not pull away,   nor does he chase the contact.   he simply allows it to be,   a quiet truce between desire and distance.   after a moment he leans in slightly.     ❛❛  the tune you whistled just now.   what is it's name ?  ❜❜