It's like you're reading my mind. Someone might think you're rather good at that, you know.
[ If his hands weren't (rather delightfully) pinned this would be the time that he'd pull her in for a kiss, but with no way to do that - and no wish to interrupt her - Claude closes his eyes to focus on the feeling of her breath skimming over his skin. Anticipation builds from there in the way they've become so good at stoking it within each other and drawing it out until there's nothing left to do but enjoy those spoils lavished until well spent.
When the next morning comes around, Claude wakes to the mid-morning sun streaming through the nearest window directly into his face. Even as someone who enjoys rising with the sun it's a bit much, really. Upon grumbling when it seems to shine all the brighter now that he's awake he does find it comes with another benefit: Hilda's waking up at the same time when this sunbeam's served as their personal alarm clock. One more squint outside reveals it's much later than sunrise, at least, which is all the motivation Claude needs to rouse them out of bed. After a bit, anyway; even with their plans for the day there's still some time required to enjoy the simple luxury of being curled up together.
By the time they make it to the markets with their bags for that beach in tow as he carries his own, dutifully has Hilda's slung over one shoulder, and her hand laced through his free one, the crowds are bustling past as Claude peers down one row of the market stalls and then the opposite direction next. ]
It shouldn't be too hard to find what we want to bring for that picnic, right? There's surely a merchant around here somewhere with some options we can take with us and ways to package it to keep the sand out before you're ready to show off your newest exfoliation techniques.
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[ If his hands weren't (rather delightfully) pinned this would be the time that he'd pull her in for a kiss, but with no way to do that - and no wish to interrupt her - Claude closes his eyes to focus on the feeling of her breath skimming over his skin. Anticipation builds from there in the way they've become so good at stoking it within each other and drawing it out until there's nothing left to do but enjoy those spoils lavished until well spent.
When the next morning comes around, Claude wakes to the mid-morning sun streaming through the nearest window directly into his face. Even as someone who enjoys rising with the sun it's a bit much, really. Upon grumbling when it seems to shine all the brighter now that he's awake he does find it comes with another benefit: Hilda's waking up at the same time when this sunbeam's served as their personal alarm clock. One more squint outside reveals it's much later than sunrise, at least, which is all the motivation Claude needs to rouse them out of bed. After a bit, anyway; even with their plans for the day there's still some time required to enjoy the simple luxury of being curled up together.
By the time they make it to the markets with their bags for that beach in tow as he carries his own, dutifully has Hilda's slung over one shoulder, and her hand laced through his free one, the crowds are bustling past as Claude peers down one row of the market stalls and then the opposite direction next. ]
It shouldn't be too hard to find what we want to bring for that picnic, right? There's surely a merchant around here somewhere with some options we can take with us and ways to package it to keep the sand out before you're ready to show off your newest exfoliation techniques.