Paloma nods morosely and rumples his buttoned-up shirt. “You tend to make sense,” she concedes. In a tone just as tentative and meek: “Join me? Save time, and...”
"I suppose it would be good to freshen up..." He doesnt really need a shower, and he's still very shy, but...maybe. If she wants him to. "Anything to be with you a little longer." Really that's what it comes down to, if he can see her a little more before she has to go.
Small movement against him indicates Paloma’s surprise. A soft pressure over his chest is a dry kiss, her twisting heart tied up in it.
“I love everything about the sound of that, Henry.” Let him lead the way. If there’s a chance for a downstairs shower they can dodge possible confrontation.
No, no, downstairs is for the servants, upstairs is rhe family. He laces his fingers with hers to lead her up the stairs. Less proper than giving her his arm, but probably more intimate. The patter of the shower running greets them as they climb the stairs, so at least Hyde's occupied for the time being.
He takes her into his bedroom and hangs his lab coat and tie up right away, the rest can wait. "How was it, was he good?" The show, and Hyde's behaviour, that is.
She hopes the time alone and stream of hot water help Hyde see things as they are again. He probably won’t apologize, but...
Paloma coughs. Her hand flies to her throat, covered in sweater, dried sweat and angry hickeys. What!!
“Good!” This is Jekyll talking. Sweet, gentlemanly Henry Jekyll wouldn’t ask how the sex was. “Yeah? Oh yeah! The genre is growing on me. I wasn’t so sure...” Bending to escape her heels offers a convenient preoccupation.
He laughs a little, nodding. "I try to go to support them as much as I can, but it really isn't my thing... I suppose I can agree with the meaning, more or less, but the sound and atmosphere is, ah, overpowering." He likes orchestral music, not rock.
He still feels like he should turn away to undress, even though...well.
Her too, nonsensical as it is to fuss over nudity now.
Maybe not so silly. Hickeys, light bruising, proof of someone’s complete attention and the mess of her once-pristine panties betray her; Paloma breathes a little faster, a little like a wheeze. Her cheeks enflame, but she half-turns regardless. “I think he’d laugh if he knew the kind of music I’m into— Gaelic ballads to pop.”
It's okay it's fine, he's making sure he doesn't look, his back is turned to run the shower and let the water heat up before they get in! Which also lets him go longer without taking off any more than his suit jacket and shirt. Pants? He can shower with pants....
"You're not as bad as me, at least. I prefer string orchestras..." A real lord.
The softest of touches lighting on his spine is a gentle hand that smooths up to his shoulder, reverent in a way. Paloma is braver in the face of his shyness.
“Not bad, just what you like.” Her forehead bumps his back.
"Bad to him, I mean!" He smiles a little, and in doing so betrays his blushing by turning to her. Moments ago the same face was unapologetically lewd, and now here it is unable to look her in the eye just because they're innocently nude. He still hasn't even touched his pants.
As time marches on without Jekyll pointing out the marks—whether or not he’s noticed— she feels safer and less anxious about what they’ve done. The difference in his and her degrees of nakedness does strike her as odd.
Paloma must be rather red, too. At least mulberry. “I... see you in there?” Ha... Ha.
"I'll just get some towels!" Another good way to draw out the need to undress. He runs away to get a pair (or maybe grow a pair), but it only gives him another minute before he can't find any other reason to put it off and has to undress like the slut he is.
He steps in, meek as ever, trying not to look at her tits.
Steaming hot water cures her of aches she hadn’t even been aware of, ones aside from what Hyde can take responsibility for. When Jekyll rediscovers his spine al that she’s doing is standing mutely, eyes shut and face upturned to the falling water.
With any luck, the steam will muddle all evidence of extracurricular activity! It is terribly hard to relinquish all attached guilt, despite the consent of involved parties. She dares to smile through a curtain of curly black hair.
"If it means you could stay longer, then sure, why not!" At least it's a good way to bring him out of his shell, in fact it makes him want to kiss her badly enough that he does without hesitation. Big steps to progess.
He makes her heart quiver and seize. Really and truly, his sweetness more than compensates for the nervous shame that’s bubbled beneath the surface since arriving at his estate.
Paloma tilts up and into Jekyll to receive and give unto him as he gives unto her. She’s so, so careful to let them do this without expectation of anything further. “... You don’t know what I’d do for that.”
"If you have time off, will you visit...?" His hands reach for hers, because the other option is her waist and that's risky. He's gotta leave room for Jesus.
Well. Other than her nipples brushing his abdomen, room for Christ.
They aren’t saving much in the way of water by not-embracing while his shower showers on. Paloma forgets to care, gazing like a star-crossed idiot into his eyes. Theirs are such a lovely green...
“Any time I can.” Her pride won’t let her say a word about money.
The quick worried uptick to her eyebrows speaks to her kneejerk reply, that she can’t stay long and Veronica won’t wait for a dazzled intern. He distracts her long enough to give the idea another think.
“Umm...” Closing her eyes to prevent shampoo burn, her hands get busy. The bench is warm from the water. “I have to be back by one in the morning, but....”
Oh, that's sooner than he expected. "Then I'll, I can take you to the airport?" A weenie sounds awfully down, but trying to make the best of it. He scooches a little closer to make up for it.
His sad state of affairs lends her justification for acting just as pathetically, the same level of low-key-actually-desperate.
As soon as the water runs the last bit of suds from her hair she’s burying herself into his side, huddled and yet minding her hands to her own lap. “Swing by the hotel for my luggage and you can take me anywhere, Henry.”
"I will!" Jesus doesn't need room when it's their sides, if genitals aren't touching it's fine, maybe, so he puts an arm around her shoulders. There's a pause, and then, "Um, Harry?"
Ahh. Here’s the cuddling she craved after fucking like animals. A sigh can be felt, albeit not heard, rippling through her tiny frame.
She makes a noise doubling as a question, then, “Harry? Oh— Harry.”
The sound of it feels like intimacy, to. That brings a giddy shiver out. “I know too many people who call me Lomita, but I don’t mind if it’s just you who says Loma.”
"Oh, that's cute." Loma, Lomita, it suits her. His other hand takes hers and laces their fingers together. Should they be hurrying up for dinner? Maybe... But his heart's all aflutter and he's feeling warm in every way so who needs it?
Loma is less diminutive, cutesy. A friend or foe might even call her that, but no one in recent memory has called her Loma; she wants to give that to him. To the brothers.
“—Shoot! Dinner! Your brother!” Lateness won’t improve matters between them!! She scrambles up far too quickly and pays for it, slipping and lurching into his lap.
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Sex?
Paloma nods morosely and rumples his buttoned-up shirt. “You tend to make sense,” she concedes. In a tone just as tentative and meek: “Join me? Save time, and...”
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“I love everything about the sound of that, Henry.” Let him lead the way. If there’s a chance for a downstairs shower they can dodge possible confrontation.
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He takes her into his bedroom and hangs his lab coat and tie up right away, the rest can wait. "How was it, was he good?" The show, and Hyde's behaviour, that is.
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Paloma coughs. Her hand flies to her throat, covered in sweater, dried sweat and angry hickeys. What!!
“Good!” This is Jekyll talking. Sweet, gentlemanly Henry Jekyll wouldn’t ask how the sex was. “Yeah? Oh yeah! The genre is growing on me. I wasn’t so sure...” Bending to escape her heels offers a convenient preoccupation.
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He still feels like he should turn away to undress, even though...well.
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Maybe not so silly. Hickeys, light bruising, proof of someone’s complete attention and the mess of her once-pristine panties betray her; Paloma breathes a little faster, a little like a wheeze. Her cheeks enflame, but she half-turns regardless. “I think he’d laugh if he knew the kind of music I’m into— Gaelic ballads to pop.”
God, smite her, her body is a map of sin.
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"You're not as bad as me, at least. I prefer string orchestras..." A real lord.
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“Not bad, just what you like.” Her forehead bumps his back.
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Paloma must be rather red, too. At least mulberry. “I... see you in there?” Ha... Ha.
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He steps in, meek as ever, trying not to look at her tits.
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With any luck, the steam will muddle all evidence of extracurricular activity! It is terribly hard to relinquish all attached guilt, despite the consent of involved parties. She dares to smile through a curtain of curly black hair.
“Could I just live in your bath?”
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Paloma tilts up and into Jekyll to receive and give unto him as he gives unto her. She’s so, so careful to let them do this without expectation of anything further. “... You don’t know what I’d do for that.”
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They aren’t saving much in the way of water by not-embracing while his shower showers on. Paloma forgets to care, gazing like a star-crossed idiot into his eyes. Theirs are such a lovely green...
“Any time I can.” Her pride won’t let her say a word about money.
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Maybe he'll just lead then to sit on the bench and offer shampoo and soap. That's technically the purpose of a shower.
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“Umm...” Closing her eyes to prevent shampoo burn, her hands get busy. The bench is warm from the water. “I have to be back by one in the morning, but....”
Smart men should be able to conjure bright ideas.
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As soon as the water runs the last bit of suds from her hair she’s burying herself into his side, huddled and yet minding her hands to her own lap. “Swing by the hotel for my luggage and you can take me anywhere, Henry.”
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She makes a noise doubling as a question, then, “Harry? Oh— Harry.”
The sound of it feels like intimacy, to. That brings a giddy shiver out. “I know too many people who call me Lomita, but I don’t mind if it’s just you who says Loma.”
And Edward. Forgot about him.
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“—Shoot! Dinner! Your brother!” Lateness won’t improve matters between them!! She scrambles up far too quickly and pays for it, slipping and lurching into his lap.
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