Hadriel IC Inbox

[claritatis]

"You've reached Ignis Scientia. Leave a message and I will endeavour to get back to you post-haste."

Comments

[dedikated]

( The shift startles a noise out of her, one that's less than dignified, but Kate keeps her mouth closed on the comment in the back of her mind - that this is a strange idea of luck, to be stuck here and with someone like this.

Because, truth is, she feels it too. )

True.

( Because she's beautiful, and all for providing more interesting ways to burn off energy together. )

[claritatis]

[It is a strange idea of luck, but it's a strange place and a strange situation, and Ignis will take his good fortune where he can. At the moment it's in the form of a frustrating pink-haired woman who cares about him despite his many potentially irritating quirks, and he does feel lucky.]

But we really ought to get out of bed. [Don't they have things to do? He catches her hand to kiss the backs of her knuckles.]

Come on.

[dedikated]

( Oh, just roll a girl over and leave her, Ignis? So rude. But he's right, and Kate exhales before standing up, before stretching her arms over her head and delicately pulling her hair loose from a sleep-mussed braid. )

What's for breakfast?

( Asked as she glances around the room. Where did she toss her clothes last night anyway? )

[claritatis]

[He'll make it up to her another day - that much can be promised without the need for words. Ignis locates his own trousers, shirt and shoes easily, though has a little more trouble with the smaller items of clothing (no doubt thrown somewhere by Kate).]

Anything you like, so long as I can make it with what we have.

[Half dressed, he straightens and pushes a hand through his hair, grimacing subtly as he finds several parts of it stubbornly sticking upright.]

And I'll have you know, I'm blaming this entirely on you.

[dedikated]

( That is guaranteed to happen, yes. She's not too broken up about it, more concerned with locating underwear and her jeans than anything else. )

... eggs?

( Or whatever it is that is like eggs and found in the shops. They behave the same, at least.

A smile tugs at the corners of her mouth as he plays with the pieces of his hair that won't sit down and she steps over and stretches up to tease the parts which are lying in place. )

Don't see a problem.

[claritatis]

[He doesn't shy away from her teasing, but tolerates it with a patient, warm smile and an amused look in his eyes.]

You wouldn't. [No, she finds some odd pleasure in seeing him so unkempt, he's sure. Another moment, and he reaches up to grasp her wrist, gently pulling her hand down and holding it in both of his, curling her fingers in towards her palm. He kisses the backs of her fingers.]

Eggs it is.

[dedikated]

( Unkempt means different things to the two of them. The association with time alone, relaxed and together, brings a warmth to her chest and a brief, private, smile across her face. Same as letting her hair hang loose around her instead of leaving it up in all manner for hairstyles. )

C'mon.

( She's just going to finish getting ready, just going to allow him to try and fight with his hair, if it's that important. )