[And once again Edmund reminded himself of one of the great cats, a leopard perhaps, dark eyes falling shut as he leaned into the gentle caress of delicate fingers in sandy locks. A soft hum that was near enough to a purr caught in his chest and when Asa moved to withdraw his hand Edmund caught his wrist in a gentle but unyielding grip.
This time it was his turn to press his lips to the back of the other's hand, pressing a smile to pale skin before he finally blinked his eyes open again, looking up at Asa with a measure of intensity that he did not allow himself often. It was a delicate dance, this game they played. Flattery and affection veiled behind polite gestures and ever conscious of propriety. Flirtations masked as simple compliments.]
It is a gift, you know. These moments to step outside of the crown and simply be. I wonder that my siblings do not understand such a need but they are, as you say, less reserved with their joy. [Another soft brush of lips to the back of the redhead's hand and then he released them both, finally pushing himself up to sit cross-legged beside him, plucking his forgotten sweet roll up off the blanket to his side. A moment of contemplative silence while he took another bite and then, carefully, uncertainly...]
You would tell me if I were too forward with you, would you not? After all, here in your garden I am no more than simply a man. Edmund alone, with no crown or station to weigh upon your answer.
would you mind terribly if I added you on plurk dear?
This time it was his turn to press his lips to the back of the other's hand, pressing a smile to pale skin before he finally blinked his eyes open again, looking up at Asa with a measure of intensity that he did not allow himself often. It was a delicate dance, this game they played. Flattery and affection veiled behind polite gestures and ever conscious of propriety. Flirtations masked as simple compliments.]
It is a gift, you know. These moments to step outside of the crown and simply be. I wonder that my siblings do not understand such a need but they are, as you say, less reserved with their joy. [Another soft brush of lips to the back of the redhead's hand and then he released them both, finally pushing himself up to sit cross-legged beside him, plucking his forgotten sweet roll up off the blanket to his side. A moment of contemplative silence while he took another bite and then, carefully, uncertainly...]
You would tell me if I were too forward with you, would you not? After all, here in your garden I am no more than simply a man. Edmund alone, with no crown or station to weigh upon your answer.