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[rosarianoath]

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[noburden]

She shakes her head.

"I trust you. I trust Ifrit," she says. "I don't believe that my words wouldn't have reached you if I asked you to stop."

[rosarianoath]

“I never imagined his preferences would come up in conversation,” he says. But more seriously: “That I could have stopped is important to me too.”

[noburden]

"I know," she says. "I never felt like you were a danger to me, Clive."

She looks at him for a long moment before she speaks again.

"I'll remind you of that. You're no brute. I would let you know when anything was too much for me, and I will remind you that there's nothing terrible about us giving voice to what we like or dislike."

She can at least do that.

"Did I cross a line on the sofa, before?"

[rosarianoath]

No matter how long he’s been here, he’s brutalized far more bodies than he has held lovingly. Sometimes he thinks he could love her every day for the rest of their lives and it still wouldn’t put a dent in how many times he’s stuck a sword in another’s chest.

But he hopes she’s right. He hopes he’s a good person, and he hopes he can find himself with her.

His brow knits once more.

“Oh, Jill. No, you didn’t cross any lines. Certainly none I wasn’t goading you to come over with me.”

[noburden]

"We were both naughty, I suppose," she says with a strained laugh. She doesn't want to regret it, and he doesn't seem to, so perhaps it's fine. "You're difficult to resist. But... I'm glad we're sitting here, talking about these things."

[rosarianoath]

“I am too,” he says. “And I’m glad we bent our rules. No matter how I feel about taking our time to know each other again, I think I was going to burst if I did not…”

He pauses, not sure if there’s an appropriate word. He just looks aside.

“I’m grateful.”

[noburden]

She looks at him with a fond smile before scooting over to hug him, attempting to bowl him onto his back this time around.

She'll prove to him that a talk about their boundaries and comfort didn't spoil their day.

[rosarianoath]

He could easily absorb her weight into his arms without budging, but he lets her have it, chuckling and laying back so she can pin him.

[noburden]

And pin him she does, laying atop him and merely smiling down at him for a long moment.

"I love you," she says, "And because I love you, I will not claim victory over you while I know your belly is empty."

She kisses him briefly, playfully.

[rosarianoath]

“I love you too,” he says, stretching out under her, gazing up at her, her curtain of silver hair falling between them, and he savours that kiss, brief as it is. “Let us go eat, then.”

[noburden]

And so they do. It's a nice lunch, casual and filling, and when they return home Jill follows Clive back down into the basement.

"I really do need to finish this laundry," she tells him. "Your sofa is disappearing under it."

Not that it stopped them from their shenanigans earlier.

[rosarianoath]

“I’ll stay out of your hair, then,” he says, and he reaches and brushes his fingertips along the small of her back as he passes by behind her to get to his kitchenette. Given he doesn’t cook in it ever, it’s really just a row of dog-eared paperbacks and second-hand VHS tapes lined up on the counter, some empty cabinets and a fridge full of beer. Which, speaking of, he’s going to get. “Unless you want the company.”

[noburden]

"If you can behave, this time," she says, smiling at him as she scoops everything into a basket. "Perhaps you might with your appetite sated."

In a few ways.

[rosarianoath]

He hums deep from his chest, glad his back is to her so he can let himself look a little satisfied with himself. Beer in hand, he grabs a paperback before heading back to the couch.

“I’ll mind my manners.”

[noburden]

"Occupied hands. Good idea," she teases. She reaches for a shirt that had been half lost between the cushions.

"Is this new?" It's a shirt she doesn't recognize. "Did you actually go shopping?"

It's asked with a laugh because she can't imagine it. In all their time here, he's shown little to no interest in clothing beyond comfort and necessity.

[rosarianoath]

Clive settles in, the book spread over one brawny thigh as he cracks open the beer. He looks at the shirt. Oh.

“If you didn’t buy it, my caseworker did.”

[noburden]

She frowns.

"You don't remember?"

[rosarianoath]

He is not sure why she’s frowning.

“I have a lot of shirts,” he says. “If it’s one of the bigger ones, she did.”

[noburden]

"Do you want to keep this one, then?"

It's ugly, she thinks.

[rosarianoath]

He’s momentarily confused, wondering what’s wrong with it.

“Ought it go out?” he says, mildly concerned.

[noburden]

She looks to him.

"Do you wear it often? I haven't seen you in it."

[rosarianoath]

“Perhaps a few times.”

Maybe somewhere in the times she wasn’t doing his laundry, and certainly not when she’s around. He must have slipped up.

[noburden]

"Do you want it?"

A simple question, but Jill can feel a tenseness in her neck.

[rosarianoath]

Clive feels the temperature drop, at the very least metaphorically.

“No,” he says, to be cautious. “Give it away, then.”

[noburden]

Torgal might like it as a toy if she knots it up. Jill tosses it aside.

"It doesn't suit you."