amuseing | shenanigans

[Shattering is a good word to use, and so is casually. She is bold and straightforward and outgoing and pushy and nonsense-intolerant and pretty damn fearless, and Deeba has no patience for caution or stereotypical milestones or boundaries. What else was she to do with a man she wanted--whom she knew wanted her too--and yet who spurned physical affection, which she adored, and had an unmistakable jadedness that made him take things slow despite possibly not really wanting to?

She's had her heart broken, too, y'know. Thing is, it's already sewn right there on her sleeve and she can't really take it off now.

Deeba flings an arm across him and murmurs something unintelligible into his neck, though whether or not she's still asleep is up for debate.

Still not a very sexy snuggler. Still not caring. Fun times.]

[ Unlike her, he's cautious and evasive as hell, playing his cards wisely, had every move outlined like a true strategist. And of course, he never give any girl (or heck, anyone, really) the chance to even glimpse at his true feelings. It's all a game, and he's playing it gracefully. This air of remoteness probably contributes to her attraction towards him, and on the contrary, her brash nature lured him in.

Just as planned for her, but not for him.

She had pretty much caught him now, not only physically, but also emotionally. Which translates as not good, and a part of him desperately trying to devise an escape route. But the rest of him whispered stay, and he obeyed, letting her hold him in return and stayed there in her now-messy bed, very much naked and awake.

This is, of course, risky business, and he was gambling with his heart again (normally he'd bury it somewhere so it would not interfere with his casual flings), but at the moment, he could have cared less. He could have cared less about Deeba being a not very sexy snuggler, too.

In fact, Eiríkur kissed her neck tenderly, can't help but chuckled a little at her mumbling. The sensation of a thundering heart along with the feeling of skin against skin is something he haven't felt in a long time. ]

[And then she's re-situating herself so that it's her forehead and not her whole damn face buried against his skin and starts tracing whorls and shapes on his chest.]

Mornin'.

[Just as planned? Sort of, but not really. The only plans Deeba really makes are to be herself, and everything just kind of falls into or out of place at that point. Sure, she's a little overwhelming, has a habit of pulling people in both intentionally and unintentionally, and knows about walls and how to lay the dynamite. But it's not a manipulation, it's not a strategy, it's just I want to be your friend and I won't let you not let me, and that's that. Unlike Eiríkur, she's been a gambler since what she likes to call (to herself) the UnLondon Incident; she's gambled much more important things than her heart; she just has a network of support, friends and family, and she knows they're going to be there to catch her when she falls and help her bandage aching wounds.]

[ It tickles, a little, but he let her be, opted to reposition himself as well, so that his face isn't partly buried in her dark hair, and instead in her jawline, breath teasing her skin. ]

Morning. [ He replied coolly (much to his surprise), and kissed her cheek lightly. ] Did you dream of me last night? Or did you dream weird things like sentient cupboards, trying to take over the world again?

[ Planned or not, intentional or unintentional, she had managed to ensnare him. ]

Hmmm. What if I dreamt of you in a cupboard, eh? What then?

Depends on the context. [ He responded lazily, fingertips trailing against her back, teasing her forever. ] I suspect it's something dirty, though.

Yes, Eiríkur, I have dirty dreams about you in cupboards.

[ He couldn't determine whether it's a confession or whether she's just teasing him. He's swinging towards the latter, but who knows. ]

I'll be careful from now on when I'm with you and there's cupboards around, then. [ Despite the calm reply, he can't help but blush a little. Thankfully, she can't see that. ] In the same vein, you should be careful with desks.

[ Whispered in her ear seductively. Two can play the game. ]

[The eyebrows. They are rising.]

Is that an invitation? Or do we both just have an unfortunate "thing" for sturdily-constructed, polished wooden furniture?

Maybe. [ Pulls away just enough to tease her. ]

"Maybe" to what?

To both of your questions. [ Oh, she doesn't seem bugged. It sort-of annoys him, so he's just going to roll a little further. ]

Hm--hey, where do you think you're going? I'm definitely not done.

[She will just roll right on top of him, tyvm. Then he can't get away from her not-sexy snuggles of doom >:3]

[ That earns her a frown. Eiríkur doesn't like it when other people sabotaged his trolling attempts, especially without even knowing. ]

Oh, I don't know. Narnia, maybe. [ But a minute later, he's more than vaguely okay with that, and once more draped both his arms around her, smothering her with snuggles. He can definitely get used to this. ] Anywhere in particular you'd like to go today, by the way?

[ Since it's Sunday, he doesn't plan to fly back home until tomorrow morning, and all. ]

shenanigans

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*and known for only less than a month, derp

<3

<3!

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