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Imriel is sitting by the kraken pond, feeding Spots bits of pineapple.

He doesn't have his sword (though the daggers are present at his belt and his boot), and he looks entirely too self-satisfied.

Young love. Isn't it adorable?

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Villiers shall persevere in speech! Even though it's becoming harder and harder as Imriel gets more and more distracting.

"It's all just very...odd."

Yeah, he's getting distracted. Look as he presses a light kiss to Imriel's cheek, nuzzling against hair.

"Mmm."

Snuggle nuzzle cuddle hug. Kiss cuddle nuzzle. ♥

♥♥♥♥♥

"So...you've just been out here feeding the wildlife all day?" he says, just one more attempt at conversation.

While snuggling. Cuddles are good, but cuddles while talking are better.

Usually. With Imriel, anything at all is nice.

"Yes."

Cuddle! :D

"It's... mmm, very relaxing."

Cuddle cuddle.

Kisskiss hug.

"Quite a change from Montreal," he says once again. "You're fine with settling in?"

Just to make sure, you know. All while he's very, very comfy. Imriel makes a good pillow.

"Mmm. Very."

Nuzzlenuzzle kiss cuddle hug.

"A real house, real beds, real..."

Cuddlekissnuzzle.

"...mmm..."

Train of thought? What's that?

...dunno. Maybe it's used for something?

"This leisure, this comfort," he says after a few moments, thinking very very hard. A thoughtful moment, resting against Imriel's chest. "Do you work for a living, where you're from?"

Because even Villiers doesn't know what to do with all this free time. It's unusual not to have to constantly please bosses and do menial tasks aside from just day to day life.

He's not used to relaxing. It's all quite new to him.

Then again, this is Villiers we're talking about.

"No."

Aristocracy, land, archaic France, blah blah blah.

"So, either the socialist system has been perfected, there is magic in that land of yours, or you're nobility?"

All are, apparently, equally viable.

"The last."

Nuzzle.

Curiously: "Do you mind?"

He might. Some do.

"Should I have reason to?" he replies, with a little smile. In other words? No, he doesn't mind.

Nobility is strange. He comes from a land where royalty still exists, but it's hardly like he ever comes in contact with them. They're just...sort of there.

"I like to think you wouldn't."

Snugglesnugglenuzzlesnuggle.

Kisskiss. Happy little hum. The human version of a purr.

"Then, in that case, I don't mind," he declares cheerfully.

"Mmmm," says Imriel, distracted by the feel of bruised skin under his lips.

That skin's still tender. And he can feel those lips, stirring up a memory of want and...

...and...

...well, other good things.

Listen to him hum out an interested "hmm?"

"Hmmmmm," he agrees, nuzzling.

And kissing.

And-- no, no, this is too public a place for licking. They should do something about that.

♥

Mmm...yes...most definitely...

He returns that kiss with maybe a spark of something not fit for public viewing, before moving to rise.

"You're going to wear me out someday," he says with a laugh, a grin, and a tug towards their rooms (http://mrmoneypenny.livejournal.com/5632.html).

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