Are You Sleeping?

[Alphonsine Maxine]

Her father and brothers had been gone for nearly two weeks now out on open waters, their trip longer than normal, though she had no complaints now that she had someone else to keep her company. Having someone nearby was far different than the eerie silence of being alone in the still cottage. There were movement and voice, unlike any other time that wasn't her. And laughter. His words were strange. His accent was strange. Together it reminded her of the sea. Smooth and flowing. With a depth, she would never understand. She could ask what left haunted shadows in his eyes the rare moments he was sober - but something kept her away from speaking such word. Something told her those words would hurt. And in one of her first moments of bliss, she didn't want hurt - either for him or her.

Still, even in the new routine that she had had for nearly a week, one thing that had changed was how early she woke. One week couldn't break nineteen years of habit. Normally, she chose not to rise but rather she would lay still and watch the man that who occupied the other half of her already small bed - not that she minded. Today, however, she rose, trying her best to slip out of the bed and the room without disturbing him. Why she would be content to lay there and watch him, she knew, the rational side of her that had been notoriously absent the past week knew, that there were mundane things she needed to take care of. She needed to clean - clothes and the cottage both. Breakfast that didn't lean closer to dinner would be a nice treat. 

She let the door shut behind her, as she returned from the well, seeing as Reuben was not yet awake, she pulled a little and set to work, washing the dishes as well as she could before as the oven* heated, on to slip out the pan and drop a few pieces of fish to cook as she cracked a series of eggs to add in as it heated. Nearing done, she twisted her head to the side, watching the bedroom door as she heard noises of stirring that wasn't the monkey nearby.

"Reuben, is that you? Are you awake?" she'd call out, turning back to the cooking food, lapsing in remembering that she likely should have stumbled through in her attempts at broken English rather than firing French at him right after he had woken up.

*I'm too lazy to dig for information on what someone of her social standing would have to cook on - or at least the technicalities?

@'reuben crouch'

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   Reuben Crouch

[Reuben Crouch]

It took Ben a moment to remember where he was when he finally stirred. The little cottage should have been familiar by now, since it was hardly the first morning he'd woken up in the blond girl's bed, but the hangover didn't really help matters. He was more or less always hungover, these days, but that was sort of the point. Go somewhere far away from the princess, far away from all of the girls like the princess, and cut loose. What he had with Belle was, as far as he was concerned, no strings attached. He'd stay for a while, and then he'd go back home, and she'd forget him in a month and he'd never hear from her again. She certainly wouldn't be splinching herself at balls and then making a scene in the parlor about how much she liked him.

He needed another drink--that, in his experience, was the fastest way to get rid of the unpleasant knocking in his head. He'd just gotten up to go in search of one when he heard her voice from the other room--in French, which he was far too groggy to understand. "Er," he mumbled as he left the bedroom and moved into the rather small kitchen, in nothing but his underthings and still rubbing sleep from his eyes. "Good morning," he managed in French--it wasn't a complicated phrase, by any stretch, but he was proud of himself for having strung it together this early all the same. He yawned, then moved to step behind her where she stood at the stove, lightly wrapping his arms around her waste and leaning down to kiss her neck.

@'Alphonsine Maxine'

  

[Alphonsine Maxine]

No, she knew to little about where he came from to go chasing after him, nor did she even know how to apperate - she couldn't splinch herself, though if she knew, she wouldn't mind learning how, though she would have to learn more basic magic first. But in her eyes, this wasn't no strings attached. She knew he spoke of leaving, but he was so easy to convince not to, she could not actually see him leaving. After how attached she had grown in a week, she feared living without him near by.

A smile little up her face as he stumbled out 'good morning,' pleased he had attempted her language. She managed to flip the fish before he wrapped his arms around her. Their distinct lack of clothes made her flush scarlet. The bedroom was one thing, but out her in the kitchen it was another story. She had to remind herself that her brothers weren't here when his lips locked against her neck and she dropped the spatula against the stove.

"Ben," she whispered in a slight protest, eyeing the food in worry, not really wanting to burn it and waste it. They didn't have the amount of food where they could afford to waste any and the eggs had been expensive. When it became apparent he wasn't going to let her go, she twisted around to face him, choosing to only look him in the face rather than look down to his underthings.

Allie moved then to wrap an arm around him, and used her free hand to try and push his face to hers, trying to kiss him properly.

  

[Reuben Crouch]

Ben chuckled as she dropped the spatula, pleased to have surprised her. He kept his arms around her not out of any malicious attempt to spoil her breakfast, but rather because he was not used to having to be a practical person. He'd never had to deal with real scarcity in his life, although he lived a bit more modestly than any of his siblings did. That was more a point of pride, though, because Ben liked to think that he was the sort of rough-and-tumble type that could easily transition to life as a mountain man somewhere, should the need arise. He had never actually had to scrimp on anything, or go hungry before. To him, burning a few eggs was merely romantic, if it happened because they were busy kissing.

Which is what they were doing now; he'd accepted her kiss eagerly and returned it, letting his hands slide from her waist down to the curve of her backside as he gently pulled the blond closer to him. After a moment he broke away with a grin. He planted a light kiss on her forehead and let her go, assuming she needed to get back to her cooking. In the meantime, he searched out whatever was left of the booze from the night before for a little morning perk.