[ a scoop! that makes her smile. this is where her tail would wend about his waist to hold her steady, but without, she simply leans into him and bears the feeling of being not completely moored. ]
Hmmm... inside of your room, or something else of yours?
[Off to his room — a small corridor lined with a couple of doorways, one which is already ajar. Sholmes, of course, heads towards that one while he carries her.]
Well. It is harder for man to show his insides than it is for woman.
[ not a very comely thing to say, but then she's kicking her feet gently back and forth and turning her attention towards the open doorway. she is curious. she does want to know. this home feels more like a home to her than her own did, at the end. what does Sholmes' most private room look like? ]
Well, perhaps no more so than out in the living room. And by merit of having less things to clutter, there's technically less clutter, but it is of course a smaller space, and therefore maybe it seems just as disorderly as what she's already viewed.
I'm taking lots of cues from the Granada show because I'm not creative but: there is a small unmade bed with items askew atop it, newspapers stacked in the corner, and framed ink-sketched drawings hanging on the wall. A window that affords the view of Baker Street below, curtains half-drawn. A nightstand beside that.
And across the room, dressers and drawers, and tucked away next to all that, something which might serve as a vanity table, for all the makeup and wigs and whatnots spread across its surface, too.]
Not medically!
[...Probably not the sexiest retort as he steps into his room, pausing as though to figure out where to set her down.]
it feels at once so familiar and yet completely new: there! his interests. there! and there! a wizard at heart. truly, she could not have loved someone more akin to her own heart.
cranes her head, eyes on the bed and its invitingly rumpled covers. ]
[According to his own mental filing system, which is just a mess. But Sprezzatura would understand, wouldn't she?
Hm, seems like the rumpled covers is where she's going to have to be lain down for now. Sholmes crosses to his bed and gently sets her where there are more sheets than papers. She is more than free to move things aside, though.
After that, it's time to go back to the door, closing it and locking it.]
And now, even more so, if you'd allow me to be so bold.
[A view that's unduly cut short, because it doesn't take long for him to turn around and return to her. He presses a knee to the mattress, leaning in, smiling and ignoring the fact that the movement makes a few newspapers slide off and land onto the floor.]
Now, where to begin? I think you may be overdressed, my love.
[ how forward, Herlock! she laughs, opens her legs so her skirts drape in between and give him a space to crawl into if he so desires. reaching for him! ]
Aha! There she is, my beautiful tiefling. Horns and tail and all. [His hand trails to reach at the little tuft of her tail, just to illustrate; soft!] Oh, yes, wouldn't you prefer to be in my bed like this?
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