“Yep. Thankfully, I don’t think I project the air where people like to ask me about it. Their problems are more along the lines of having been stabbed by a bandit or Venatori, less about condom use or weird moles.”
But ugh, she does have a point, his professional reputation would never recover if someone did ask and he didn’t have the answer, so…
“Fine,” Stephen says with an exaggerated world-weary sigh as if he is the most suffering man in the world, “I will ask my platonic workwife about her knowledge of rifter sex and probably die of mortification in the process. Happy?”
Gwenaëlle’s fingers trailing through his hair is so comfortable and pleasant, and the banter astonishingly easy as it always is, that he leans a little closer to capture her lips in another kiss. (Just because he wants to, and can. The metaphorical door is open; he can do that now, and how remarkable and lovely that is.)
no subject
“Yep. Thankfully, I don’t think I project the air where people like to ask me about it. Their problems are more along the lines of having been stabbed by a bandit or Venatori, less about condom use or weird moles.”
But ugh, she does have a point, his professional reputation would never recover if someone did ask and he didn’t have the answer, so…
“Fine,” Stephen says with an exaggerated world-weary sigh as if he is the most suffering man in the world, “I will ask my platonic workwife about her knowledge of rifter sex and probably die of mortification in the process. Happy?”
Gwenaëlle’s fingers trailing through his hair is so comfortable and pleasant, and the banter astonishingly easy as it always is, that he leans a little closer to capture her lips in another kiss. (Just because he wants to, and can. The metaphorical door is open; he can do that now, and how remarkable and lovely that is.)