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Cassidy Finch
The Belle of Rookery Row
Young Wyrm
Young Wyrm


Joined: 01 Feb 2013
Posts: 53
See this user's pet
Jobs: Artist, Schoolteacher
Can Be Found: Rookery Row
2162.50 Silver Crowns

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PostPosted: Tue Oct 04, 2016 2:13 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

10/3/16

For all the beauty of spring and the warmth of summer, nothing quite compared to autumn. And fall in Rhydin was nothing short of splendid, at least in Cassie's opinion. It meant she could keep the bookstore's windows and doors open so the musty book smell could be fluffed by the crisp air rolling through the aisles. It put her in a chipper mood on the way back to Underbridge Cottage and that mood was only built upon further by the crunch underfoot of leaves set aflame by their last days. It meant that she could break out her knee socks again without feeling silly or getting too hot. Summer in Rhydin was quite like sitting in a pot of boiling water. Fall was much better.

Knee socks. Crunchy leaves. Crisp air. Pumpkin spice everything. She couldn't even. With a satchel full of new books to read, she turned the last corner before Underbridge and strolled her way along the high iron topped wall that surrounded the manor's grounds. She kicked through a gathering of dead leaves at the gate and happily pushed through. Bending briefly to tug at her sock, her other hand kept the hem of her pleated skirt from rising on the opposite side with the motion. With that fixed, she stuffed her hands in her jacket pockets and made the last jaunt to the cottage's front door.

One would think that being the ornery, savage supernatural thug to an the master of the underbelly of a pocket dimension would be overly demanding on a man's time. In reality, Tralle wasn't often forced into anything beyond maintaining his vigil over the grounds of Underbridge Manor and whatever secrets it harbored. A mystic tether to a site and a lack of anything better to do was enough to lend some understanding to the oft terse and growly young man. That was until he had willingly let someone occupy that space with him. Someone special.

On a day like this in years past he would have spent the time in sullen, stoic thought or perhaps people watching in some place he didn't belong. Since the spring? Well, Tralle had other things to take up his time. It had taken very little coaxing to convince him that some more on the cottage might not be out of order and what had become a small idea had slowly expanded into him whiling away his hours putting an entire addition on their quaint little home. While Cassie wandered through the book laden paradise of her job, he had spent the hours sweating out his frustration and creativity on the cottage. He was still at it when she slipped through the gate in her approach to what had become their little (but growing home), stripped to the waist moving big sheets plywood in an attempt to put a cap on an otherwise productive day.

As she cut down the winding path that split off from the main one to the manor, she shuffled to a stop amidst the treeline so she could watch him. It had been a strange eight months but when it was all said and done, she was glad to have gone through it with him. After a few minutes of watching him work, she stepped back into motion, drawing her fingers to her lips to shrilly whistle at him. Cassie adjusted the strap on her satchel and came to a stop out of his way and just off the cobbles that lined the front walk to the door.

"Isn't it getting a little cold to be showing off shirtless like that?"

"My body runs naturally hot." It had never come up as a topic of conversation before now but, in retrospect, there were a number of moments where it would have been plainly obvious. Thought not entirely explainable. "Sweatin' through it and then getting cold would only make it worse."

The last board was shoved into place beneath the recently shingled roof and Tralle finally turned to regard her while tugging the heavy work gloves free from his hands. Long, lazy strides ate up the distance between them and when he finally stopped, it was to loom over her like some overgrown grumpy menace. Nevermind the small smile he fought off at the sight of her.

"Yeah it does." She answered with a bob of her brows before promptly bursting into a fit of giggles. Stifling them with a lick of her lips, she tried to also repress the grin that threatened to overtake her mouth as he neared. His looming never bothered her anymore. In fact it was an odd sort of comfort to bask in his shadow. When he was close enough, she lifted onto her tip toes, hooked a finger into the top of his pants and tugged him forward another step so she could give him a kiss. Short and sweet.

Kinda like the little bird herself. Just like that she let him go, spun a circle that flared her skirt, and started for the front door. "It's lookin' good. Also, Al'rutanian's corner shop put out these amazing looking spiced apples. So... I'm gonna make a pie. Or I'll end up eating them all first and pie'll just have to wait. Either way!"

A quiet, feral sound of approval vibrated against the sweet softness of her lips and had him leaning in an attempt to draw this kiss out. A plaintive sound escaped when she drew away but as she retreated and flashed a little too much thigh, he was whipping the heavy gloves to crack heavily against her pert backside.

"Do you want me to take you there?" The question was far less possessive that it might have been months before. He had gotten used to the idea of her going out on her own, if only when it was necessary. But he also liked taking the time with her, being close to her as much in public as in private. Tralle followed after her into the house, needy hands feathering her with little touches as they went. "Or did you already get them?"

A sharp but playful yelp issued when the flat of the gloves thwacked her bum with a snap of his wrist, silencing the birds in the thinning trees if only for a few moments. She laughed and swatted a hand at him before dropping a hand to drum out a little beat against a rounded hump in her bag. The tap of fingernails tipped in chipped black lacquer rattled glass underneath then went quiet as she caught the door handle and bumped it open to let them both in.

"Already got 'em on the way home." Home. Home. Such an odd feeling word in her mouth. But plain as day, the four walls that surrounded her as she crossed the threshold was, in fact, home now. "They had cherries too. You know, in the goopy sauce juice? Mm-mmmph. But I passed 'em up for apples instead."

"So no getting to eat your cherry then?" Long fingers smoothed over her hips and squeezed gently before he peeled away from her, pausing to close the door behind them and rub at the sides of his neck. Broad shoulders were rolled in a stretch, his back arching.

"Isn't that a one and done sort of thing?" Cassie giggled as she tossed him a cheeky grin. Stepping into the kitchen, she dug through her bag and collected the mason jar full of saucy spiced apple slices. They'd likely never survive to make it into the pie, but hey, nobody needed to know. With that stored away, she hauled the strap off her shoulder and went to drop her bag on the cubby-hole like daybed that had once been hers, but now mostly served as a reading spot when she felt like curling up with a good book. Once her hands were free, she turned back to him. "So how's the addition looking?"

"Nothin' wrong with pretendin'." Eventually he ended up in the small kitchen beside her, pausing long enough to grab a hard cider from the refrigerator and take a long sip before slouching into a lean against the counter. "Not as fast as I'd like but I think I can have the walls up and insulated before the first frost. The inside work I can keep after while it's getting colder. In-walls bookshelves."

He added the last with a small smile.

She listened intently as she always did but the perk up was undeniable with his addendum. It took only a fraction of a second for her to cross back to him and even less than that to fling her arms around his bare neck for the most delighted of hugs. "You mean it? Really? I mean, don't get me wrong, I'd be thrilled. I just figured you'd wanna use the space for something else or something. I don't know, don't listen to me. Shelves are great. I love shelves!"

Tralle almost dropped the bottle in the moment, barely managing to set it aside before he slung his arms low around her hips. She was squeezed tightly, his neck craning down so he could stare into her eyes. "Yeah. I wanna use the space for whatever makes you happy. Maybe a big bedroom with a ready reading nook. We can read together."

Had he dropped it, it would've just been a good excuse to see her on her hands and knees while she cleaned it up. A shame he held on. Her gaze was bright even in the waning light of day that trickled through the canopy that surrounded the cottage and through the old windowpanes. "Soooo, no more climbing a ladder to go to bed?"

She was turned around slowly in his arms until her back was settled comfortably against his chest, one arm still around her middle while the other stroked along her cheek. "No more climbing a ladder to go to bed," he promised her with a gentle kiss to the shell of her ear. "We'll just have to use it for other things."

It was a comfortable and not uncommon lean that she took up against him, a smile curving her mouth as her eyes closed. Already she was picturing the addition and the bedroom and the shelves. It was perfect. So perfect. Tipping her head slightly when his mouth touched her ear, she shivered a little and fought off another giggle. "Other things like what?"

"Doing sexy things to you when you try to climb it." His nose traced the line of her jaw until a light kiss dusted her neck and was then drawn back up. "After all, apple isn't my favorite pie."

One of his hand slipped along hers to thread their fingers together, more soft kisses raining down along her cheek and ear sweetly.

The heat that flushed her cheeks rose quickly. Even after half a year with him she still hadn't built an immunity to the sort of reaction he caused in her. That included the delectable little squirm she gave him, wriggling in his grasp as her hand tightened in his. "My cherry pie is."

"It's the sweetest. Tastes like love." Who knew Tralle could talk so sweet? The fingers of his free hand caught her gently by the chin, gliding beneath it to tip it up. His lips touched gently upon hers and then worked a slow path down to her throat where he bit oh-so-gently.

Her teeth had caught the corner of her bottom lip but the pressure was quickly relieved when he kissed her. Instead she turned her focus to to worrying at his bottom lip for the brief moment he gave it to her before he continued on down her neck. The nip sent another shiver down her spine and she squirmed once more, giggling. "I'm not sure what to say to that except maybe you can have dessert after we've eaten for real? Or maybe after I've had a shower. Or both. Either way."

Both. It definitely ended up being both.
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