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Clive meanders behind Jill. In one hand he carries no fewer than four shopping bags, all jostling together with every step, the colourful strings wound round his fingers. In his other hand is a drink, comically large, halfway drained, and he sucks at it between relatively unhelpful statements directed at whatever clothes Jill holds up: Is that too big? Would he wear that? He does not know. He is not good at clothes, as a habitual wearer of whatever is given to him. Some bodies are made to be adorned, but not his: it is, at best, a fleshly thing to throw at whatever threatens him or his until it cannot move anymore. It doesn’t matter. The thrum of the mall drones out any higher thought.

Clive Rosfield was not made for the mall, yet he persists. He wonders, not for the first time, when Joshua will be done spending time with Dion. He does not wonder why he feels restless about it.

“Do you want some?” he says, offering Jill the drink, straw pointed forward.

While Astarion's new endeavor will certainly provide some clothes for Joshua, Jill is determined he have a decent wardrobe. Things to sleep in. Things to wear when the sun threatens to cook them. Things to wear when the temperature inevitably drops, and winter comes again. What if they go out for a nice meal? He should have a variety of shirts, in different cuts, to see what he likes best. A new belt to cinch in his new pants in case she got the size wrong, not to mention undergarments...

"Oh?" Jill's snapped out of her thoughts when presented with the straw. She smiles in the next moment, leaning in to taste it. The cold is wonderful with the heat outside, but the flavor has her scrunching her nose with a small laugh once she swallows. "Ah, that's tart!"

Maybe it's a little exaggerated, but she's been doing her best to keep Clive's spirits up. She can afford to be foolish for his sake.

His expression goes from blank to vague amusement, a little crease at the corners of his eyes as he watches her make a face.

“Really? I didn’t think so.” He’d eat anything. He keeps it out for her in case she wants more. Better to finish it before some shopkeeper spots it and throws a fit. “Are we almost finished here? We could stop by to get Joshua and take him home ourselves.”

No need to trouble Dion. (Or treat his brother like a grown man.)

One sip was enough for her. She's sure he can drain the cup well enough on his own.

"Are you worried about him?" She asks, knowing the answer. A part of her worries, too--that these past days will suddenly reveal themselves as a dream. But she keeps that fear hidden away for Clive's sake.

“No,” he says, a touch quick. He takes his juice back and drinks like it’s going away. “I know he’s safe.”

Her smile softens a touch.

"You miss him, then?"

How strange it is to talk about Joshua after so many months of walking on eggshells.

“Always,” he admits, and he does not like feeling like he’s being childish. A grown man ought to not see brief moments apart as so bothersome. “I hope he’s having a good day, that’s all.”

Here. Alive.

It's not childish to Jill. Of course he misses Joshua.

"I do, too." She doesn't particularly enjoy being away from him but she knows he needs to be able to spread his wings without her or Clive.

She steps beside Clive to take his arm, giving it a squeeze.

"I'm sure he's having a wonderful time. If he beats us home, he can enjoy having the house to himself for a little while."

He hangs his head a little, relenting, leaning into her touch — he knows, he knows.

“Is that such a good thing, to have the house to oneself?” he muses. “I never enjoy it so much as when you’re there.”

She leans in--a rather loud act when some paper bag is crushed between them--and presses a kiss to his cheek. She understands how he feels.

"I worry he might feel suffocated at times, with either one or both of us with eyes on him at all hours." He can press buttons on the microwave in peace. "Whenever you're not home, I find myself only waiting for your return."

Suffocating Joshua is a novel concept; imagine, seeing someone enough that your mere presence could be too much. He gives a soft chuff as Jill kisses him and he puts his free(r) arm around her for a brief squeeze.

“We could just never leave,” he jokes. “And speaking of… are we finished here?”

Don't tempt her with a good time. Jill is glad that Clive can tease, and she decides to put him out of his misery.

"Yes. I think Joshua will be pleased. I was hoping we could find something to wear to the beach now that the weather is warm, but we can do that another day."

He's eager to get home. She gets it.

The beach? Clive doesn’t hide the little scrunch of his nose. Far be from him to discourage outings with his family, but…

“Why would we need clothes for the beach?”

"I do not think Joshua or the general population of Requiem wishes to see us bare all."

She manages to joke with a straight face, though she has to hide it against Clive's arm at the end. They're not going to the clubs.

“I imagine not,” he says, but it’s hardly unusual either. He’s no stranger to bathing in rivers or streams. Playing, even. What boy hasn’t? He ducks his head just enough to bump his cheek against the top of her head. “I meant… what’s wrong with the clothes we already have?”

"They're fine, but there are a number of options for clothing meant to go into the water. Why not try them out while we're here?"

Some are cute. Some are more revealing than she'd like. Some, she would like to see Clive in.

Oh. Right. He’d seen his fair share of nearly-naked women on the beach shortly before breaking Dion’s nose.

“I don’t intend to swim, but if you’d like to…”

"You don't want to go into the water?" She frowns. That's the point, Clive.

“Have I ever been much of a swimmer?” he replies, bemused.

"No, but neither have I," she points out with a chuckle. "Shall I ask you nicely? Will that change your answer?"

“I would sooner leave my dignity intact, especially in your eyes,” he says.

"You are being very dramatic." She finds it charming, given the way she hugs his arm. "Though perhaps I shouldn't be surprised."

“Dramatic would be refusing to go to the beach at all,” he says, oddly charmed that she wants to hang onto him in public, and quite steadfast in his desire to neither swim nor wear a swimsuit. “Come now. Get some garment for yourself, and I’ll watch you swim.”

Stubborn.

"Will Joshua agree to go into the water with me, do you think?" Jill is certain her odds are good. Really, she's gauging whether Clive will make an issue of it. "I wouldn't want to go in alone."

There's always Dion, of course.

“If he doesn’t get too engrossed in a book,” he says, dumb as rocks. “I’ll keep watch from the shore.”

Yay the mall yay

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