tfln open post

[byanyname]

***

either leave a message (or set of muses) for one of my assholes, or request a message from one of them. choose messages from the classic source, from your own skull, or whatever you may please.

Comments

[loyalless]

No no why wul d you expose yourselef to cows???! Youm ust be joking!!

oH you ARE

a ha

Wha t a country jest. Would you lik to have my laugh? Ha ha.

My WINE is another matter. If you thake wine that is YOUR busines!

'sharing'!!

[lostyourheart]

A country tale. Not a jest.

But - very well. I shall make this my business, then.

[ It's an invitation, she decides. How odd he is: never once does he say yes to any particular offer, but he is fervent with his refusals. He isn't refusing at all, is he? Now?

An idea begins to take shape in her mind: that Treavor is messaging her not merely to harass someone, anyone, late at night, but because he wants attention. Companionship. Here he is, not refusing to share wine, but telling her - it's her choice. Remember, that first night she led him to bed, how she thought he was fearful of some blow? How it seemed he was ever-wary of mockery?

Wouldn't that prevent him from admitting he might like her company?

Or perhaps it's all wishful thinking on her own part, because the weary nights are long and her friends few. Perhaps she would like to cast that light on his answers this evening, because it allows her the liberty of inferring that she can join him.

That's why, not three minutes later, she has invaded the study with her book, and without so much as an explanation or word of greeting, settles herself at his feet, skirts spread perfunctorily, her back against his chair and her shoulder brushing his knee. ]