11th of Glade, 121
Her laughter was light as a hummingbirds wings. "I 'spose it's handy to have a seamstress in the family, then?" She didn't know if that was her profession, but by the way she'd chastised her clothing and Mino's own comment, she could only assume. The girl didn't hesitate to melt into his touch once more. It was Naila's fault, she'd punched and kicked every ounce of resistance out of her the previous day and left her absolutely famished for a kinder affection.
A sound something between a sigh and a moan escaped her lips as he eyes closed, head leaning into his hand. But the sweetness of his hand was quickly matched by the softness of his lips upon her forehead. Her eyes shot open, she froze in that moment as her heart nearly jumped out of her chest. She'd been kissed before. On the lips, on the cheek, hell even where his lips currently were- but not so tenderly. Her cheeks became hot as he left her forehead and said something. She couldn't make it out, whatever it was it was not nearly as important as his lips.
"A-ah! Aye, I donna mind waitin for ye-" She stuttered out, almost stumbling along with him as her feet tried to catch up to her heart.
Fawn plopped down on the chair softly, reluctantly letting go of his hand as he went back to his paperwork. It wasn't her original ideal, but it slowly turned into one. In this way she could follow his movements. Her eyes tracing his form like an artist studying a sculpture. They traced every wrinkle in fabric, every tight pinch around joints, the way his glasses somehow perfectly followed his jawline and only elongated his already regal face. She liked the way a vein in his neck would shift when his head turned, the way his hair would fall and reveal his ears that twitched every so often.
After a few minutes of watching she was smiling, contently, and brought both feet up to the chair while draping her arms across the side. She was small enough to ball herself up in the chair, and yet still comfortably lay her head upon her arms and sit lazily, observing him, and staying quiet. As much as she was desperate to speak with him, she wanted him away from the damn paperwork and walking down the street with her. And that meant patience. Damned, stupid patience. If patience were a person she might have bargained with them.
But at least she was here. At least he was here, in front of her eyes and within reach.
Finally when he was finished, the last of the papers being filed away as necessary, her head perked up and she bounced off the seat in classic Fawn-fashion. "Done?!" She asked, excitement sparkling through her bruised complexion.
"What is it yer preppin' for anyways?"