she was fond of this, ruffling his hair so the strands would fall down to his brow. it wasn't becoming for him to be so put-together, to wear the mask that he did when he stepped foot out this door. after a moment of this meditative action, she kisses his lips, her own quipping up into a faint smile. " morning. "
IT WAS AN ACQUIRED HABIT of hers, those long fingers through his hair, however callused they were from wielding her sword. he enjoyed it immensely, so as per usual, he leaned against her touch while humming in acknowledgement of his own delight ā she could undo him like this and she knew it, oh, she did. it doesnāt help his defenses are still low from drowsiness, or that heās growing more and more used to waking up with her presence.
heās blind to what that means, still, but it doesnāt mean he doesnāt enjoy it.
āmorning to you too,ā thereās a smile gracing both his lips and his voice as gray-blue meets amber. he leans down, presses a gentle peck to her lips and hums again.Ā āyou better ruffle it back into place, miss.ā itās playful more than demanding and he wraps an arm around her midsection to pull her close.Ā