VARUS
If he’s being honest, it’s a routine he looks forward to every time. He nestles into the bed, slipping an arm around her middle as he presses his head against her stomach, carefully out of the way yet in the way enough that he feels like he might be able to start the repairs as he listens. Of course, he can’t help the laugh that leaves him when she’s commenting on a leg injury, one of those legs moving to drape over her own. “I think it has too.” He agrees softly.
But his head tilts up to peer at her with a raise of a brow. “What, you think I can’t multitask?” He feigns offense, the arm draped around her moves to press against his chest in mock hurt. “Ouch, Isla, ouch.” He hums, eyes shutting for dramatic affect before one eye opens to see if she’s taking the bait of it.
Whether she does or doesn't, he nestles in again, peering at the book. "What story is it?"
But his head tilts up to peer at her with a raise of a brow. “What, you think I can’t multitask?” He feigns offense, the arm draped around her moves to press against his chest in mock hurt. “Ouch, Isla, ouch.” He hums, eyes shutting for dramatic affect before one eye opens to see if she’s taking the bait of it.
Whether she does or doesn't, he nestles in again, peering at the book. "What story is it?"
and you ease my troubles with your hands, like the night puts a calm on the valley
