From his perspective, it's a little baffling to feel such affection for an enormous brown bear, but it's clear she loves the creature, and there's something endearing about the fact. Perhaps that's what comes of owning any pet - not something he has much experience with - and especially one as useful as Trinket.
And for all he knows, the same fondness might trickle into his voice if she asked about the pepperbox.
When she asks him about rinsing his hair, Percy's tempted to say no; he could easily retreat into the sensation of her hands massaging his scalp for far longer. But under her care, everything up there is undoubtedly clean. Lingering further would look...he's not sure how it would look, actually, but knows he can't.
Rather than answer her, he lets himself sink down further into the water, ducking his head and scrubbing out the soap himself. It lacks the sensual comfort of her touch, but that's for the best; under the water, he recalls the rest of his body, and the thought of her exploring it, examining it, makes hope and dread twine around each other in his stomach. Before he surfaces, maybe he can get his head on straight.
He turns under the water and rises up again facing Vex'ahlia, and it turns out he's never going to have his head on straight again, because she's even more beautiful now that the water's lapped at the tips of her hair and the steam's caused little strands of it to curl around her sharp-featured face. For a moment, he's speechless, looking at her with too much appreciation reaching his gaze - and then he rallies himself. "Much better. If you'll give me the soap, I can take care of your hair."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2025-01-19 03:05 pm (UTC)And for all he knows, the same fondness might trickle into his voice if she asked about the pepperbox.
When she asks him about rinsing his hair, Percy's tempted to say no; he could easily retreat into the sensation of her hands massaging his scalp for far longer. But under her care, everything up there is undoubtedly clean. Lingering further would look...he's not sure how it would look, actually, but knows he can't.
Rather than answer her, he lets himself sink down further into the water, ducking his head and scrubbing out the soap himself. It lacks the sensual comfort of her touch, but that's for the best; under the water, he recalls the rest of his body, and the thought of her exploring it, examining it, makes hope and dread twine around each other in his stomach. Before he surfaces, maybe he can get his head on straight.
He turns under the water and rises up again facing Vex'ahlia, and it turns out he's never going to have his head on straight again, because she's even more beautiful now that the water's lapped at the tips of her hair and the steam's caused little strands of it to curl around her sharp-featured face. For a moment, he's speechless, looking at her with too much appreciation reaching his gaze - and then he rallies himself. "Much better. If you'll give me the soap, I can take care of your hair."