[ She lets out a raucous laugh when he bursts into a sprint towards the water, she holds on for dear life, of course. But hey, it's a great reaction to a great gift. He keeps her secured to him, at least. And she just keeps laughing, with him until they get down to the beach.]
Holy shit, Barclay. Don't kill us both before you even get on the boat.
[Gallumph, gallumph. The wind of their momentum blows through her hair, salting her cheeks in little breezy flicks. They come pounding down onto the beach, his feet kicking little gasps of white sand. The heat of the sun soaks through her clothes like wine on bedsheets. Like wine has done, on their bedsheets.
He swings her down so she can stand. She's perfect to him, you know. From the skinny flail of her legs, to the way her eyeliner bunches up around the cheeky symmetry of her smile. Sometimes he leans a little closer to her because he know that she's just a little short-sighted.]
You look all right to me, [he says.] Where 'all right' describes you as well as 'cute kicks' describes your choice of Koché. [Look. he knows her.]
[ He gets her set down on the beach and finds herself breathless even though she didn't do any of the hard work or running. Laughing at what he says, finding it completely adorable and irresistible when he uses modern terms, whether he says them correctly or not.]
Yes, yes, I think you're just saying that because I bought you a book. [ She grins up at him, sinking into the sand a little but not complaining. ] So what are you going to name her?
[A long arm goes around Kenzi's waist. Barclay takes his eyes off her in order to look at the boat, making a great show of looking at it from different angles, hmming and hrrming. He seems to be giving it a lot of thought. Which is kind of true; the fact is, he thinks it's important, and he cares, and he's trying, but he already knows what he's going to do the moment that she says it. He knows it as instinctively as she can tell whether somebody's complexion and hair makes them a spring or an autumn. (Personally, he still has no idea.)]
The Isabeau. Unless you're at risk of crying every time we take her out.
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whoa i never got this notif
Holy shit, Barclay. Don't kill us both before you even get on the boat.
welcome to this notif kiss kiss
He swings her down so she can stand. She's perfect to him, you know. From the skinny flail of her legs, to the way her eyeliner bunches up around the cheeky symmetry of her smile. Sometimes he leans a little closer to her because he know that she's just a little short-sighted.]
You look all right to me, [he says.] Where 'all right' describes you as well as 'cute kicks' describes your choice of Koché. [Look. he knows her.]
thank you, i'll stay awhile.
Yes, yes, I think you're just saying that because I bought you a book. [ She grins up at him, sinking into the sand a little but not complaining. ] So what are you going to name her?
no subject
The Isabeau. Unless you're at risk of crying every time we take her out.