Oh, aye? And what about me? [All of this from between her kisses, which he accepts, gladly, easily--as easily as he accepts her leg resting on him, how close she's let herself be pulled.] Hungry as well, for you, and you don't make it easy--
[And he leans in on that last kiss, slips his hand up to the back of her head, fingers bunched in her hair, and kisses her, good and hard and lasting. As if he hadn't just had her, as if that weren't enough--because it wasn't, it never is.]
Don't I? [ An incredulous laugh as she shifts her weight over him, sweeping her hair back out of the way and curling her arm around his head as she bends as if to kiss him again, but stops teasingly just short. ] I could hardly make it much easier.
[Half a groan, half a laugh, he accommodates the shift easily, gladly. Less glad to be denied a kiss yet again--but she's close, at least--]
You could. Or you couldn't. I'm forgetting what we're arguing about. I'm forgetting everything. Can't concentrate at all. C'mere--kiss me and I'll get the gifts and come back and kiss you again.
[And he leans up to close that distance between them, to try to kiss her one more time, just as he's threatened to do.]
[ Yseult rolls her eyes at him, but leans into the kiss for a good long moment before sitting back and giving him a little shove back away from her. She moves off his lap and straightens her skirt as she shifts back toward the picnic spread. ]
Go on, then. [ she says, before chasing a grape with a bite of cheese. ]
[He almost lets her go--starts to lean back--and then leans in quick, plants one little kiss at the corner of her mouth. Never mind that she's chewing. And before she can do or say anything, he slips away, climbs to his feet, and goes over to the couch to unearth his present, leaving her to eat and drink as much as she wants and without interruption.]
[ She stretches out, propped on one elbow and legs crossed at the ankle, picking her way through the meal he's laid out as Darras collects the first of his gifts.
It's not a large package fixed to the back of the couch, hardly more than an envelope and just as light. It opens to reveal a dozen neatly folded silk and cotton handkerchiefs, each in a different pattern--stripes and spots and checks and swirls--all dyed in bold colors, several including red. ]
[He's appropriately dramatic for the discovery of the envelope--a quiet noise of expectant surprise, lots of significant eye contact--but when he's actually got it open, he's far more genuine. And pleased, which, hopefully that's not a surprise for her.
When he spots the red one, he looks over at her with a grin.]
[He sets the envelope and the handkerchiefs down on the sofa, and comes around so he can kiss her again. Her mouth tastes of the wine. It's good, and he lingers, of course.]
Now, I could stay here, or I could go in search of that other present that's over there. But it feels suddenly very far away from me. Too much work.
[ She hooks fingers in the space between buttons in his shirt, arm dangling. She keeps that hold for long enough to kiss him again before pushing knuckles into his sternum. ]
Go on. I'm sure you can survive the journey to the bookcase.
[ Where he'll find a small, jewelry-sized box on the edge of a shelf in back of a stack of books about the peerage of the Free Marches. Inside is a single stud earring set with a ruby, in keeping with her theme. ]
[Sent on his way with that kiss, Darras finds the next gift easily enough. He pops open the box--and again, laughs when he sees what's inside, delighted by it.]
Small gem-shaped doses as well, is that it?
[He comes back to her straightaway, box in hand--closed again, for fear of losing the earring.]
You're a very thoughtful gift-giver, you are. Thank you.
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[And he leans in on that last kiss, slips his hand up to the back of her head, fingers bunched in her hair, and kisses her, good and hard and lasting. As if he hadn't just had her, as if that weren't enough--because it wasn't, it never is.]
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You could. Or you couldn't. I'm forgetting what we're arguing about. I'm forgetting everything. Can't concentrate at all. C'mere--kiss me and I'll get the gifts and come back and kiss you again.
[And he leans up to close that distance between them, to try to kiss her one more time, just as he's threatened to do.]
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Go on, then. [ she says, before chasing a grape with a bite of cheese. ]
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It's not a large package fixed to the back of the couch, hardly more than an envelope and just as light. It opens to reveal a dozen neatly folded silk and cotton handkerchiefs, each in a different pattern--stripes and spots and checks and swirls--all dyed in bold colors, several including red. ]
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When he spots the red one, he looks over at her with a grin.]
And I was beginning t' think that you hated red.
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I just think it's best in small doses.
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[He sets the envelope and the handkerchiefs down on the sofa, and comes around so he can kiss her again. Her mouth tastes of the wine. It's good, and he lingers, of course.]
Now, I could stay here, or I could go in search of that other present that's over there. But it feels suddenly very far away from me. Too much work.
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Go on. I'm sure you can survive the journey to the bookcase.
[ Where he'll find a small, jewelry-sized box on the edge of a shelf in back of a stack of books about the peerage of the Free Marches. Inside is a single stud earring set with a ruby, in keeping with her theme. ]
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Small gem-shaped doses as well, is that it?
[He comes back to her straightaway, box in hand--closed again, for fear of losing the earring.]
You're a very thoughtful gift-giver, you are. Thank you.
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I'm told marriage is about compromise [ she quips, reaching to the back of his neck to draw him down again. ]
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[He allows himself to be drawn down, but before he closes it off in a kiss--]
And what's it I'm compromising for you, with these? Am I swearing off red for a little while, in service to that compromise?
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Not at all. You're just limiting your red to small, tasteful, square or gem-shaped doses. As discussed.
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[And then of course he's got to kiss her again, just as firmly as any other kiss, just as new as the first time, somehow.]