He blinked rapidly, and the fog cleared, but it was still as if there was a fist wrapped tightly around his heart. "Tell me if I'm ever hurting you, okay?" he pleaded quietly, inhaling deeply.
Revolutionary War Roleplay! [CLOSED]
She blinked. "Pierre, am I the type of woman to keep my mouth shut?"
This made his face break open into a slight smile. "Apparently not."
"Mm.. So I will let you know if you hurt me." She reassured him, and rest her ear over his heart.
Pierre hoped she could here how it beat loudly for her. Edonine…. When had he managed to fall this deeply in love?
"Good…"
Edonine yawned softly, "What do you want for breakfast? Baked apples?" The weathered woman suggested.
"That sounds nice.. I'm fine with anything."
"Excellent." She sighed.
Pierre tucked her up against his chest, doing his best to shed the worry that had overtaken him previously.
She sighed slowly, "Mm.."
After a few minutes, he opened his eyes again. "Guess we should eat, hm?"
"I suppose.." She rubbed a circle over his heart.
Almost subconsciously, he pressed against her fingers. "If you'd like.."
His companion sat up, her short hair falling over her ears. She pulled her nightgown up to cover her shoulder.
Pierre rubbed at his eyes, turning away for a moment as she adjusted her nightgown.
The woman rolled out of bed, stretched her arms and scratched the small of her back, then went to go make breakfast.
Pierre took a moment before getting up and following. He yawned, entering the pretty kitchen— though Edonine was by far the prettiest part of it.
She had a bunch of colorful apples lines up on the counter to be cut. Delta was following her around on the floor, talons making quiet clicks with each step.
“Morning, Delta,” he greeted drowsily, coming up behind Edonine. “How can I help?”
"Slice these apples," she told him, "I gotta get some water,"
He nodded and picked up the knife. “How small should the slices be?”
"Er, as thick as your pinkie nail,"
Pierre peered at his nail before obliging and sinking the knife into the apple.
His companion dipped outside to walk towards the water pump and fill up a pot with groundwater.
He quickly finished with the apple, pushing the slices into a neat pile.
She returned shortly, setting the water aside to be used throughout the day. She plopped the slices into a bowl.
“Who taught you to cook? You’re excellent,” he commented with a smile.
"My mother and myself," a smile fluttered across her lips.
“What was she like?” he asked, curiosity evident in his tone.
A sadness spread over her face in response. "A marvel,"