Entry tags:
Anniversary
There are very few milestones in the life of a deity; so many years go by that only the most important events are remembered consciously, and the rest tucked away in a box for later rumination and safekeeping. Eirene is of the opinion that New Year's Eve now counts as a milestone because today, one year ago Bar-time, she met Clark.
So while he's outside doing chores, she quickly fills up a picnic basket with goodies (found by rummaging through shelves or her own conjuring), adding a certain short chiton that she suspects he might get a kick out of, then wanders with basket in hand to the barn.
"Clark?"
So while he's outside doing chores, she quickly fills up a picnic basket with goodies (found by rummaging through shelves or her own conjuring), adding a certain short chiton that she suspects he might get a kick out of, then wanders with basket in hand to the barn.
"Clark?"
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Just ignore the fact that she's giggling and possibly nipping at his tongue.
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His arms slide around her waist, pulling her closer against him, and he nips back playfully in return.
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Not that this prevents a snowball from the melting frost from being rolled lightly against Clark's back by a small, mischievous hand.
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Because Clark can do that with a look. It's not fair.
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"I don't think I'm really that far behind." She should be able to tell that much, at least.
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What? She had to pick up some American slang at some point.
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"Picnic and seduction. Not a bad combination."
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"...No it isn't." Of course, a hand may slide down to pat his behind and emphasis that point.