lanselos_du_lac | [Closed Post] ..lines we're leaving behind..

He doesn't really mean to, but Lancelot keeps to his rooms for a time in the wake of the latest mansion upheaval. He doesn't disappear for days, and he mostly keeps his routines -- he does spend a little more time riding -- but he is subdued and not idly floating about for socializing.

It could have been worse. He knows this. He knows, too, that no one did this on purpose; he's grateful for Susan and Nightingale's understanding. But none of that makes it easier to regain his emotional balance. Much like that day (which felt very long), he is still grappling occasionally with that sensation of being... just outside of himself, a step removed, dizzy and longing to be even further away.

Still, he does not want to punish Susan and he knows they should talk. So this morning after he puts up Rivelin, he goes to find Susan, wherever she might be.

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From:

lanselos_du_lac

"Say on, sweet," kissing the corner of her mouth.

From:

quote_gentle_unquote

She strokes her toes along his ankle, pleased, and kisses him again. Then: "I rather think a bath is in order. Or perhaps a shower." She kisses him again. "Would you join me? I should like to laze with you."

From:

lanselos_du_lac

"Gladly," he says. He has no desire to be anywhere that isn't next to Susan. "That sounds very nice."

From:

quote_gentle_unquote

Susan kisses him, and then twists her head so that she can brush another kiss across his fingertips. She doesn't want to pull away from him in the process of getting up, even for just a few moments. Still, though, she steels herself and eventually rises, trailing a hand down his side as she does. She doesn't get up, though, just sits pressed against Lancelot's side as she leans over to retrieve a hairbrush from her bedside table so she can start working out the tangles that have formed across the - frankly - marathon sex they've been having today.

From:

lanselos_du_lac

Lancelot watches her, his gaze soft, finally feeling settled in himself. Just a few months ago, less than half a year, he would not have thought anything like this could be possible. Not just the mansion in all its unlikelihood, but his feelings for Susan, their ... he isn't sure what to call this, what is between them. He only knows that it is real.

He has seen in her something akin to what he feels; he won't let himself get caught up in regretting isolating himself the last few days, but he knows now that, should anything else happen, he won't manage things the same way.

He watches her work the brush through her dark hair, and lets himself be soothed by being in her company, comfortable, safe.

From:

quote_gentle_unquote

Eventually, Susan's hair is a smooth, shining stream down her back. It's queer - she hasn't felt the need to pose or put on airs to impress Lancelot despite the mundanity of the act of working out her tangles. Instead she feels surfeited by his warm presence at her side. The soft look in his eyes cuts through to the quick of her, and she finds herself so fiercely glad that he's here, in her room, in her life.

She leans back over him to set the brush back in its place. The ends of her hair slide over his chest, and she takes a moment to kiss him then, soft and sweet.

From:

lanselos_du_lac

He brushes her cheek again, and once the kiss breaks he makes himself sit up. He feels they could stay here, like this, all day. It would suit him. But bathing would suit him just as well.

From:

quote_gentle_unquote

Susan runs a hand down his arm. This feeling - this reluctance to not be constantly touching him - is new and strange in its newness; usually she's quite pragmatic about her assignations. But, she reminds herself, they have a relationship; they agreed upon that. Perhaps this might be part and parcel of that?

Still, she threads their fingers together as she rises, and tugs him after her into her en-suite. "A shower might be more focused," she says, thoughtfully. "And then we might more quickly return to the utter excess of whiling away the day in bed. But a bath is more intimate." Her gaze flicks to him, to his face; she finds that she has no interest in dragging it away. "Have you got a preference?"

From:

lanselos_du_lac

"A bath sounds more relaxing," easily.

From:

quote_gentle_unquote

So Susan runs a hot bath; in a fit of whimsy, she adds bubbles to it. Her tub is large even though she rarely uses it, and she finds herself grateful for its size now. Since it's so big, it takes some time to fill; this time is pleasurably spent kissing Lancelot.

Eventually, though, it's full. With a final kiss, she twists the taps off. "After you," she says.

From:

lanselos_du_lac

He steps in and then turns to offer Susan his hands.

From:

quote_gentle_unquote

She takes them and follows him into the tub.

From:

lanselos_du_lac

He eases down, and is careful not to overbalance her, and does what he can to help her settle safely as well. He can't help but sigh a little as the hot water envelops him.

From:

quote_gentle_unquote

Susan shifts, her hair floating around her and crushing some of the bubbles, until her back is to his chest. The heat, coupled with a warm body to lean against (instead of half-cool porcelain) is immediately soothing, and she lets her eyes drift closed. "Thank you," she says, quietly.

From:

lanselos_du_lac

"Thank me not," indulgently, "I am being selfish."

From:

quote_gentle_unquote

"Are you!"

From:

lanselos_du_lac

"Oh, aye, terribly selfish," his arm around her waist.

From:

quote_gentle_unquote

"I like you selfish."

From:

lanselos_du_lac

"Mmm," he chuckles, kissing her cheek. "Then I shall continue."

From:

quote_gentle_unquote

"Very good," she says, twisting her head so she can catch the edge of his lips with hers. "And I shall thank you as much as I like."

From:

lanselos_du_lac

"Aye, I cannot stop thee when thou'rt determined."

From:

quote_gentle_unquote

"I so often am," Susan says, tilting her head back so that it's resting against his shoulder. She closes her eyes. "Might that be another item for your list?"