driftfleet | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

Who: Fingon, Open!
Broadcast: Fleetwide.
Action: Huntress.
When: Evening, May 8th.

A Ball? {Fingon nearly bounces as he reads the invitation, a vibrant smile shines at any who see him, and the Elf just manages to keep from bolting for the stores he has already poured over in recent days.}

Only a few days away, will everyone be ready?

{And, because he knows his cousins, he aims a hopeful grin as he attempts to switch to a more private setting for the next part of his message.}

Maitimo? Kano? You are both going, right? We should dance together!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The ribbons look good. (He tips his head back to admire the contrast between Fingon's dark hair and the blue.) If my light attracts you then I am satisfied. It need never be brighter.

Of course they do! You gave them to me.

{Fingon's happily brushing away, long, slow strokes to make sure he gets every knot {imagined or otherwise} gently freed and smoothed down before he even starts braiding.} Is that all that would satisfy you?

So if I were to give you some vile yellow-green or even muddy brown ribbons, you think they would look good?

(Of course they would. Fingon is a beauty with or without ribbons. Maedhros sighs under the attention, shoulders relaxing.)

No. There is much that would satisfy me.

Yes. {Because Fingon sees them more as a gift from someone dear to his heart, rather than the color alone. He smiles and drops a kiss to the top of his cousin's head, since Maedhros is nicely seated!}

Oh? Like what?

(Goodness, Fingon. Melt his heart a little more why don't you? He closes his eyes happily under the kiss.)

When I am in your presence, I find deep satisfaction, my cousin. Though I do wish to ask for one addition before we dance if you agree?

I'm glad! {Why not? Fingon smiles and starts to braid.}

Ask. {He doubts he'll deny Maedhros anything.}

Will you kiss me? (He cannot look at Fingon directly, but his tone makes it clear he is not speaking of a kiss on the cheek.)

{Fingon feels his heart leap, understanding. His cheeks and ears pink but he ties off the most recent braid. Then gently cups Maedhros' face and leans in to gently press their lips together.}

(Time surely stops; everything ceases to matter outside of those soft lips. Maedhros gives a shudder and he returns the pressure - just as gentle; almost cautious. Is this a dream? He has no desire to wake in that case. He finally...finally...

Cheeks flushing, he smiles shyly.) Do you object?

{Time doesn't have to pass here, as far as Fingon's concerned! He smiles softly, and kisses him a second time.}

The first is because you asked. The second is because I wished to. Why would I wish to if I object?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only