Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-28358106-20170609225054/@comment-28358106-20170612235037

"And nachos! Bring me some goddamned nachos if they have any!"  Cyndwella shouts after Marcus as he rushes off. She floats in place and puts a hand on her tummy.

Thomas slowly stands as Asja walks to him and holds out her gloved hand. He already knows what is in the tiny, worn, black box that she presents to him. He reaches out and slowly takes it, lifting the lid almost reverently and looking at the worn, bent piece inside. The paper clip has no straight lines left and looks to be ready to break in a dozen places from having been bent and reshaped and reused more times than could be counted.

He stares at it. "Asja..." He pauses. "...You can't give me Mister Crinkles."

"Incorrect. He is mine to give." She folds her hands. "Years ago, you anchored my psyche to the object with which I would be most familiar. Because of where I am now, my stability lies elsewhere.  No longer in Mister Crinkles, but in my husband."

Thomas, his head still bowed, looks up through his brow. "...And Mister Crinkles doesn't like that, does he?"

She almost smiles. "It's much easier to ignore him now."

Thomas gives a sigh of relief. "That's good to hear." He starts to put the box into his pocket.

"He doesn't like pants pockets," Asja says sharply. "And I'm not giving him to you. I'm...letting him stay with you.  For an indefinite period."

"Oh. Oh, right, right.  Sorry." Thomas tucks the tiny box into a chest pocket. He looks up with regretful eyes. "The wives and I...we were going to get you and Cire a wedding gift, but we couldn't decide on what to get you. You live in a castle, after all.  So you two may have to wait a bit..."

"As it happens, there is a gift you may give me. And, I think, it would be appropriate, due to the fact that it would be a gift for you, as well."

Thomas is about to say something, but Asja slowly steps forward. At only a foot away, she hesitates, then steps forward again, slowly resting her head on Thomas' chest, her arms reaching up behind him in a hug.

He pauses in shock. Then, knowing it won't last long, he reaches out and pulls her close.

"Is this...all right?" His voice is hoarse, almost a whisper.

"...For approximately six more seconds, yes."

The seconds tick down, and they seperate. Asja displays signs of unease, but her color remains the same. They stand close, unmoving, the memory still lingering.

"You should rejoin your family so that you are not late to walk me down the aisle during the ceremony," she says at last, her voice flat.

"...Right."

Thomas turns and exits, pausing as he holds open the door. He turns and smiles at her.

"You're right. It was a very good present."

"Yes, it was. Your clothes are stiff, however, and your collar is no longer in style.  You should have it adjusted." Asja turns back to herself in the mirror.

"...Right. Of course." Thomas shuts the door behind him as he goes down the stairs to rejoin the others, wiping his eyes.