"We had no time to have problems between us," she says with slight amusement. "I missed you so much that when we were reunited it was as if the sun itself shone brighter. I was that happy when you returned."
"It must be. It makes nights like tonight all the more special," she says. They won't be heading home after this to crawl into bed together. They'll go home, say goodnight, and go to their own rooms.
"And it is. I'm very happy we're spending this time together."
“I am too.” He isn’t sure what to make of it yet, but he’s sure it’ll be better for both of them. “Just a week ago I thought I’d have to leave the house entirely to not make you upset at the sight of me.”
"I wouldn't have let you," she says. "Even when upset... I never want you gone, Clive."
Not entirely. Her efforts to cut him out here failed hilariously when it felt like she was stabbing herself in the chest. Space is good in a way, she knows, but not in any sort of permanent way.
"Better," she promises. "I look forward to sleeping on that side once more. But it really wasn't too bad of an injury. Didn't bleed as much as a head wound, for example."
"I shall not consider it healed until your skin is entirely unblemished," he replies, but he's fussy and he knows it; a little smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.
"I can't say I'll endeavor to fall more often, but I can think of more ways to keep you busy. I can think of several garden projects that have been forgotten since Joshua's arrival," she jokes softly. Anything to keep him from the basement.
She lifts her head just in time to see that smile. It's so sweet on his face that for a moment, she forgets the cottage entirely. They're in their own world.
"I'd appreciate it," she says. "Injured as I am..."
"Though I cannot claim to have your green thumb," he says, reaching for her chin with his free hand, holding her face towards him for a long, loving second, and then gently letting it go. Some space must be maintained. "I will gladly lift whatever needs lifting, and haul whatever needs hauling."
When he holds her chin, she feels so drawn to kiss him that she nearly does. One moment more and she would have done it, even if she knows she should not. It leaves her looking a little dazed, and she quietly clears her throat.
Their meal is going to be agony.
"That's all I need," she replies, giving his knee a squeeze. "That, and company."
"Especially since I've missed yours," she must say, with a little tip of her head. She's missed Dion's, too. Torgal is likely tired of her having full conversations with him.
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"It must be. It makes nights like tonight all the more special," she says. They won't be heading home after this to crawl into bed together. They'll go home, say goodnight, and go to their own rooms.
"And it is. I'm very happy we're spending this time together."
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Not entirely. Her efforts to cut him out here failed hilariously when it felt like she was stabbing herself in the chest. Space is good in a way, she knows, but not in any sort of permanent way.
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"I'm glad. Is it terrible to be glad that fate insisted I care for you the other night?"
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And her pride, but that's a small thing.
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"How are they?"
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That was much worse.
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"That will take far too long and you know it well. I've never said as such to you, with your worse wounds."
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"Did you want help in the garden again? I would like to."
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"I'd appreciate it," she says. "Injured as I am..."
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Their meal is going to be agony.
"That's all I need," she replies, giving his knee a squeeze. "That, and company."
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“Company is easy enough.”
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