after a lengthy silence, she sighs. scrapes her nails up and down her arms. perhaps it would have been easier to give in, back there under the storefront. ]
[But Henry would argue a situation like that shouldn't be given into just because it's "easier."
When that long moment finally passes between them, he steps forward. Closer. The little mushrooms begin to fidget with knickknacks on her desk, curious. (She was right to whisk the magic deck away.)]
You work so hard to please me. [ here, she tugs on the front of his blouse, and she most certainly pretends the mushrooms aren't right within earshot. ] Maybe there is something more I can make up to you? Hm?
[And he dips down with that tug, a smile spreading across his lips. The little mushrooms... for now, are too busy shuffling around papers on her desk to care what's going on just yet.]
He takes her hand, a gentle squeeze — any time Henry Creel earns a handhold from Sprezzatura, he considers it a win.]
Careful, I'm pretty sure they've been wanting a snowball fight for a while now.
[And out the door they go, which he closes behind them gently with his powers.
The snow is really coming down now, their visions veiled with a sheet of soft, falling white. There are hills of snow gathering on either side of the path that leads up to the door, and amid one, three little mushrooms are scattering around and laughing, kicking up snow. One of them gathers up (tiny) balls of the stuff, creating its ammunition for a future snowball fight.]
[ and indeed, as they step back outside, the snowballs the mushroom has put together are minuscule. no bigger than a marble. she has weathered hailstones both larger and harder, yet the sight is oddly... charming. she worries, too, of having them out here like this—so simple for a wayward thief to get ideas, whisk them up and away, or perhaps do them harm if harm is intended.
and yet.
she hears their little giggles and something in her stills. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
vecna) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
finalflight2024-12-26 07:22 pm
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[Because then that will earn them the most thoughtful names from her.]
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Well. I've surprised you with a few things.
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after a lengthy silence, she sighs. scrapes her nails up and down her arms. perhaps it would have been easier to give in, back there under the storefront. ]
Come here, lapochka.
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When that long moment finally passes between them, he steps forward. Closer. The little mushrooms begin to fidget with knickknacks on her desk, curious. (She was right to whisk the magic deck away.)]
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stands up on tiptoe and kisses his cheek, mwah. ]
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But the kiss warms him; that, along with the notion of giving his familiars proper names, nearly pushes the idea of a botched gift aside completely.
Wraps an arm around her.]
That more than makes up for it.
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Oh? And what did you have in mind?
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Well—ehm. What would you like?
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He decides on something cute for now, since the former didn’t get him too far the last time.]
Let’s all go out and play in the snow.
[The mushrooms gasp and say in stereo: Weally?!]
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she's not done such a thing in decades... and neither has he. ]
Oh.
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So, what do you say?
[Pweaaaase?]
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Henry laughs and goes to grab his coat, as well as hers, if she ever bothered to shrug it off.]
Thanks for humoring me. And them.
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It is least thing I can do.
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Don’t think of it like that. Like you’re repaying a debt.
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I don't.
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[Ever vigilant, he waits patiently.]
Then let’s have some fun.
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[ in his infinite patience. only now steps forward, in order to place her hand in his. ]
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[Being domestic. As long as it's with her.
He takes her hand, a gentle squeeze — any time Henry Creel earns a handhold from Sprezzatura, he considers it a win.]
Careful, I'm pretty sure they've been wanting a snowball fight for a while now.
[And out the door they go, which he closes behind them gently with his powers.
The snow is really coming down now, their visions veiled with a sheet of soft, falling white. There are hills of snow gathering on either side of the path that leads up to the door, and amid one, three little mushrooms are scattering around and laughing, kicking up snow. One of them gathers up (tiny) balls of the stuff, creating its ammunition for a future snowball fight.]
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[ and indeed, as they step back outside, the snowballs the mushroom has put together are minuscule. no bigger than a marble. she has weathered hailstones both larger and harder, yet the sight is oddly... charming. she worries, too, of having them out here like this—so simple for a wayward thief to get ideas, whisk them up and away, or perhaps do them harm if harm is intended.
and yet.
she hears their little giggles and something in her stills. ]
What are you three up to, hm?
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The mushrooms look up at her, smiling.
I want to make a snow angel!
No, I wanna make a snowman!
Snowball fiiiight!!
The third throws a tiny snowball at Sprezzatura. It smacks her ankle, relatively unimpressive.]
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kicks up a little scuff of snow right back at the offending mushroom. sorry, she's still a little bit mean and not good enough with kids. ]
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