"Oohp!" Four fingers rose to his lips with the faint exclaimation as Edmund tutted at him, and Zexion sniggered into his hand with such a bounce in his shoulders that it might almost seem he had a case of the hiccups.
"My deepest apologies, I hardly meant to imply any vulgarity!" He replied in feigned sincerity, bowing his head so near to the table that the ends of his bangs nearly brushed the saucer. "(But thank you, nonetheless, for preserving our modesty.)"
But after a moment, it would seem that his bedfellow is already too eager to cast off the chains of chastity, leaning on astronomical curiousities as an excuse- a paper thin one, and it leaves Zexion simpering pained at him in efforts to not heave an exhasperated roll of his eyes.
Lovely as it will be, joining him behind the weighty drapes, an invitation that just barely passes for coy. The schemer's fingertips itch, and his lips smooth together methodically as he takes another small swallow of chocolate, syrupy cream coating his throat all the way down.
"You don't say?" Zexion murmurs politely, watching him rise with dark diversionary delights dancing in his eyes. Edmund, your delivery might be next-to flawless, but your subtlety could stand a little more polish
A slow count of thirty, fourty seconds should be enough discreet waiting time to allow for his company to lay claim to their spot in the alcove, before stretching restlesly and sliding to his feet in one elegant motion, taking a black cherry cordial along for the ride on his tongue.
This was all business as usual for The Pearl, but he was relieved to have Edmund go for it first- Sometimes the curtains would be Already Occupied, and then you had to sort out some other means of loitering or excusing yourself later on- Edmund must have caught the backs of a flushed retreating pair faster than he'd noticed.
Checking this way and that to ensure the matron was bustling about clearing tables, he stepped into the shadows, drawing the thick velvet around him only to find himself standing very close against his friend. Before Edmund could draw him into magnanimous arms, Zexion sets his Lexicon propped open on the window ledge, a thin haze of illusion providing even deeper discretion. It would serve all too nicely by way of masking telltale lumps in the drapes, or concealing the peeking inch or so where their shoes might be spotted.
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Date: 2016-11-29 06:23 am (UTC)"My deepest apologies, I hardly meant to imply any vulgarity!" He replied in feigned sincerity, bowing his head so near to the table that the ends of his bangs nearly brushed the saucer. "(But thank you, nonetheless, for preserving our modesty.)"
But after a moment, it would seem that his bedfellow is already too eager to cast off the chains of chastity, leaning on astronomical curiousities as an excuse- a paper thin one, and it leaves Zexion simpering pained at him in efforts to not heave an exhasperated roll of his eyes.
Lovely as it will be, joining him behind the weighty drapes, an invitation that just barely passes for coy. The schemer's fingertips itch, and his lips smooth together methodically as he takes another small swallow of chocolate, syrupy cream coating his throat all the way down.
"You don't say?" Zexion murmurs politely, watching him rise with dark diversionary delights dancing in his eyes. Edmund, your delivery might be next-to flawless, but your subtlety could stand a little more polish
A slow count of thirty, fourty seconds should be enough discreet waiting time to allow for his company to lay claim to their spot in the alcove, before stretching restlesly and sliding to his feet in one elegant motion, taking a black cherry cordial along for the ride on his tongue.
This was all business as usual for The Pearl, but he was relieved to have Edmund go for it first- Sometimes the curtains would be Already Occupied, and then you had to sort out some other means of loitering or excusing yourself later on- Edmund must have caught the backs of a flushed retreating pair faster than he'd noticed.
Checking this way and that to ensure the matron was bustling about clearing tables, he stepped into the shadows, drawing the thick velvet around him only to find himself standing very close against his friend. Before Edmund could draw him into magnanimous arms, Zexion sets his Lexicon propped open on the window ledge, a thin haze of illusion providing even deeper discretion. It would serve all too nicely by way of masking telltale lumps in the drapes, or concealing the peeking inch or so where their shoes might be spotted.