Revolutionary War Roleplay! [CLOSED]

She rolled onto her back, clutching the sheets to her chest. “Mph. Well, for what it’s worth, you look very handsome in the mornings.”

"You like my messy hair?" The Spaniard hummed.

“Mm, very much,” she murmured, blinking tired eyes and reaching up to ruffle it.

"Yes'm," the Ranger replied.

Jane curtseyed politely and left. She found the aforementioned papers on John's desk and carried them back out. "Are these what you require, sir?" she asked.

He shut his, letting her play with his chestnut hair.

"Oh, yes," the soldier dipped his head in thanks. "It's much appreciated, miss,"

"Jane," she said. "My name is Jane, sir."

"Miss Jane," he corrected himself. "I pray you have a good rest of your day,"

"And you as well, sir," she said cordially.

As he opened the door to leave, the cat darted between her legs and out the door.

"Oh–shite!" The man exhaled, and began to chase after it.

Jane's mouth dropped into an O. She watched from the doorway with a subdued smile on her lips.

Following the cat over a ditch, the young man was outwitted by a tree root. A poor Queen's Ranger humiliated by a glorfified plant, tripped over. He laid there, stunned, for a few moments, before he lifted his head and reached for the silver-clad hat peope of his rank wore.

Jane rushed out to help him get up. "Are you alright?" she asked worriedly, her smile gone.

"Ah.." he exhaled slowly, fitting back on the hat. "Yeah, uh, your cat," he laughed nervously.

"It is not mine, sir," she said with a giggle.

He wiped his forehead, "Oh, André's going to be furious," he fretted, wraught with guilt.

"But why?" she asked.

"Your cat," he laughed. "I hope that thing comes back. Again, I'm so sorry,"

"Oh. It's fine. I'm sure I can find it. Do you have to leave soon, or would you like to come back inside?"

"Um," he looked down at his clothes, now smeared with cold mud. "Inside, please.." he laughed embarrassedly.

"I can take care of your clothes. You can wear something of John's in the meantime," she suggested, helping him stand.

"Are you sure?" He double checked. "-And, my name, my name's James,"

She smiled kindly. "Of course, James. Here, let me get some of John's clothes for you."

He dipped his head and walked in with her. He stayed standing—he didn't want to dirty up their beautiful furniture.

"Here you are," she said, handing him a pile of clothes. "You can use the guest room to change, if you like."

"Thank you again," he exhaled, and turned to go change.

Jane sighed and waited in the foyer for him. Maybe she could make them tea while they waited for his clothes to dry warm enough for him to wear.

It took him a while, but he reemerged in John's clothes, rolling up the sleeve cuff a few times. "Man's got long arms," he laughed quietly.

She smiled. "Let me take these from you," she offered, slipping the dirty clothes from his arms. "I'll only be a minute or so."

He shut his, letting her play with his chestnut hair.

She gave a slightly sleepy grin. "You're like a dog."