Post by Deleted on Sept 12, 2022 19:39:06 GMT -5
"It can be a little daunting," she agreed, a sigh lifting her shoulders up and down, though she was still smiling. "Which is strange, because it's only natural, isn't it? Like any other thing we feel." She chewed her lips, eyes settling on a tree stump. She pulled him over toward it, sat her basket down, and stood on top of it. It helped her match his height a little better. She looked him over, hands touching his shoulders, his chest, before moving back up to push his wet hair back and out of his face. "I...was going to tell you, before, that..." she swallowed her nerves, droplets still falling down through the canopy around them and onto her head and face, and his as well. She watched one trickle down his chest and had to take a deep, calming breath before she could meet his eyes. "That I wanted you -- want you, you know, drunken honesty and all," she laughed, and pressed her lips to his for just a quick kiss that she immediately regretted because it lit the fire all over again.
"However," she took another deep breath. "It's probably for the best that the rain stopped us. You're still hurt and I don't want to be the reason it takes even longer for you to heal. It's not that I want to wait, I just don't want you to be in pain while we're...together." She moved her hands out of his hair and down to his face, thumbs rubbing his cheeks. She kissed him again, then pressed her forehead to his. “So once the pain is gone, maybe we can come back out to Sylthame. It might be a little cooler so we’ll just bring a bunch of blankets and, well, go swimming.” She grinned through a third kiss, then hopped down from the stump and picked up her basket, hanging it on her arm and taking his hand once again. “Oh, and I didn’t mean actual swimming.” She winked, walking down the path once more.
The woods were a different place in the rain, but she didn’t mind. It was a little darker, even though it was still mid-afternoon, and the sound of raindrops splashing against the large leaves of the trees above was comforting. Most comforting of all, despite them both being drenched and sloshing about, was knowing that he had confessed his love and no matter what doubts she might have had, the love had to be true, because Thomas was honest. It made everything that much easier, and the tension would be there until they could resolve it but she didn’t mind all that much. If anything, the build up felt exciting. If they were going to wait anyway, she might as well try to enjoy it.
When they finally made their way back out of the woods and to the cottage the rain had let up a little, though not much. Temperance grabbed a clean bucket from outside and took it in with them, emptying any water that had gathered in the bottom just before they went inside. She left it by the front door as they moved inside, and immediately removed her shoes and tugged her dress off, tossing both into the bucket. “I’ll clean everything tomorrow — oh, your boots,” she frowned as she sat the basket on the table. Temperance hardly ever wore her shoes, but Thomas wore his boots every day. “I’ll start a small fire and we can hang them on the mantle to dry.”
As Thomas removed his clothes, Temperance disappeared into the extra room and returned with two fresh towels, one she offered to him and the other she used to dry her hair as much as she could first, and then she wrapped around herself. Then she went over to the fireplace and tossed a few logs onto the irons, held a hand out and muttered a short incantation. A ball of fire shot from her hand and engulfed the wooden logs, making them crackle and pop. “Oh, and we can reheat the cinnamon buns! I hope they didn’t get wet.”
"However," she took another deep breath. "It's probably for the best that the rain stopped us. You're still hurt and I don't want to be the reason it takes even longer for you to heal. It's not that I want to wait, I just don't want you to be in pain while we're...together." She moved her hands out of his hair and down to his face, thumbs rubbing his cheeks. She kissed him again, then pressed her forehead to his. “So once the pain is gone, maybe we can come back out to Sylthame. It might be a little cooler so we’ll just bring a bunch of blankets and, well, go swimming.” She grinned through a third kiss, then hopped down from the stump and picked up her basket, hanging it on her arm and taking his hand once again. “Oh, and I didn’t mean actual swimming.” She winked, walking down the path once more.
The woods were a different place in the rain, but she didn’t mind. It was a little darker, even though it was still mid-afternoon, and the sound of raindrops splashing against the large leaves of the trees above was comforting. Most comforting of all, despite them both being drenched and sloshing about, was knowing that he had confessed his love and no matter what doubts she might have had, the love had to be true, because Thomas was honest. It made everything that much easier, and the tension would be there until they could resolve it but she didn’t mind all that much. If anything, the build up felt exciting. If they were going to wait anyway, she might as well try to enjoy it.
When they finally made their way back out of the woods and to the cottage the rain had let up a little, though not much. Temperance grabbed a clean bucket from outside and took it in with them, emptying any water that had gathered in the bottom just before they went inside. She left it by the front door as they moved inside, and immediately removed her shoes and tugged her dress off, tossing both into the bucket. “I’ll clean everything tomorrow — oh, your boots,” she frowned as she sat the basket on the table. Temperance hardly ever wore her shoes, but Thomas wore his boots every day. “I’ll start a small fire and we can hang them on the mantle to dry.”
As Thomas removed his clothes, Temperance disappeared into the extra room and returned with two fresh towels, one she offered to him and the other she used to dry her hair as much as she could first, and then she wrapped around herself. Then she went over to the fireplace and tossed a few logs onto the irons, held a hand out and muttered a short incantation. A ball of fire shot from her hand and engulfed the wooden logs, making them crackle and pop. “Oh, and we can reheat the cinnamon buns! I hope they didn’t get wet.”