Plourr Estillo (
fighting_mad) wrote2006-08-21 07:40 pm
[OOM] Eiattu - Royal Chambers
It takes Plourr several minutes to figure out why her dream is beeping, but eventually, she reaches out and shoves her hand through the bedcurtains, swiping blindly along the table beside her bed. She hits something (to be fair, she hits several somethings, and one or two of them go clattering to the floor). A quiet voice comes. She leans out of the curtains and holds a murmured, mostly-asleep conversation over the comm unit, holding the sheets over her chest. When she ducks back into the warmth of the bed, she rolls back over and-- finds herself face-to-face with Rial. He's sleeping, eyes closed and hair tied back, breathing evenly, and Plourr wonders, watching him, why she had never realized how handsome he is.
The princess grins sleepily and lazily tangles herself up in him.
The princess grins sleepily and lazily tangles herself up in him.

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"...ow."
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"Maybe, maybe not."
And then he's kissing her again, hard and hungry, because sure last night was good, but why not do it all over again?
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she abruptly stops kissing him.
"Question," Plourr says as if she weren't very naked and pinning Rial, rubbing her upper lip with her forearm. "How attached are you to this?" She tugs lightly at his mustache with a thumb and forefinger.
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Dammit, Plourr! Way to spoil the moment.
"Um - why?"
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"Have you ever kissed someone with a mustache?"
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He sighs.
"My dad'll kill me if it comes off."
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And he eyes her.
"So if I said that I was going to keep it...?"
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She tries a different tack, still sprawled half on top of him in the huge bed. She traces nonsensical patterns on his chest with her fingers. "I think you would look very handsome without it," she wheedles. There's a more genuine smile down at him. "Though you're very handsome now, too."
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Fear the puppy-dog eyes, Plourr!
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Plourr never said she fights fair.
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Eyes shut, face tilted back.
"Mmmmmkay."
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(even if it's a little difficult with Plourr on his chest)
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"Yes."
Then slithers off the bed, becoming somewhat hopelessly tangled in the curtains and probably bringing Plourr with him.
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--Oof.
Snorting with laughter, her forehead pressed against his collarbone: "I can go brush my teeth if it's really that bad."
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His head is at a lovely awkward angle, and pressed into the floor.
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Murmured against her lips, "It means that I'm too busy right now to die."
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And he knows it's a cliche and all, but right now-
-right now he thinks he can fly.
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who says he can't?