Marcus tightened his grip around her warm body, the body that housed such a wonderful, beautiful soul, not from possessiveness, but from the need to hold her close, to protect her. With the rough pads of his thumb, he wiped away her tears, his touch so impossibly gently and soothing.
His whole life, he'd never really known happiness. He didn't remember a single moment, not even before his parents' deaths, that he had felt so blissfully safe. Winifred.. Winifred was his reason for living. For being. His soulmate, the only thing in the world that could ever make him truly happy.
Winifred shuddered at his touch. It was so soft and gentle, full of love and care. She leaned into his hand, nuzzling his palm, pressing small kisses to it.
"Marcus…" She croaked, fighting back the waves that wanted to overtake her. Her eyes reflected the emotions that swam about inside of her. "I want to be yours. In every way, shape, and fashion, I truly do. I… I'm not leaving. If you'll have me, I'd like to stay and become your…" Lover? Girlfriend? Wife? "…personal doctors. It looks like you'll need me."
Marcus's hands trembled as they gingerly cupped her face, almost as if he was suddenly afraid that she would break in his desperate hold. "Of course I'll have you," he said weakly, tugging her closer. "Of course. And if you'd like…." He swallowed. "We could be.. something. We could be together, officially. Not to the public, but.."
She braced her hands on his shoulders, feeling his trembling. "Together as in…." Winifred couldn't help but smile. "A couple?" The words sounded beautiful coming from her mouth. She loved the idea of coming to Marcus, calling him 'beloved' and 'handsome', teasing him and cuddling close together at night. "Yes. Yes, please."
Marcus let out a quiet, exhilarated laugh of pure relief. "Oh thank god… I can't– words can't express how much I love you.. Winifred.." The name danced on his tongue, tasting of honey and sunlight. "I can't believe I'm– I'm– I'm your–"
Winifred gave a hearty laugh and pulled him into another kiss. His lips and tongue tasted wonderfully, she could hardly get enough of him. She held him by his cheeks. "You're all mine…."
“I am,” he agreed weakly, just about ready to do whatever she commanded. “I most definitely am. I’m yours. All yours. Forever. Or as long as you want me for.”
"Forever." she answered him. "I like 'forever'….that's sounds nice." She gave an approving nod.
“Forever.” He tried out the word, his shoulders sagging in relief. It was a good word, full of promises. “Forever.”
Winifred nodded. "Yes, I love it. You and I, forever." She stood. "I'm going to ask for some more rolls. Those were great." She rolled the cart to the door and signaled a butler.
Marcus nodded and leaned back, wishing he could get up to help her. His wound stopped him from moving too much— which brought a terrifying thought to mind. If Luc moved against her, he would not be able to protect her.
((Wanna do a time-skip? She and Angeline can help him through some physical therapy. And she can tell him of the whole 'Lauren' thing.))
A little later, Winifred returned and sat once more. "They're on their way with more tea." She said with a bright smile. "In the meantime….would you like me to read to you?"
(yeah sure, to the next day or just a few hours forward?)
Marcus faltered, mind skipping back to the excerpts she'd read him, the excerpts full of sinful desires and an insane lust for Death. But the temptation to hear more of Lauren Dean's well-spun words was too sweet to resist. "Alright," he agreed, a small smile on his face.
Winifred smiled and rose to go to her room. She crouched down before her trunk and opened it, scuffling through her stuff to find one of the three books. Once she grabbed one, she returned to him, but she couldn't help but feel a little timid or bashful. The things that were mentioned in this book had become all too intimate, all to possible over the last day. Could she really stand the heat of the words printed on those pages?
Marcus folded his hands in his lap, peering at the title of the book. Was this the same book she had read to him earlier, the romance? The thought brought a sudden bout of nerves crashing down on him. What would it be like to be read to this time, now that a world of possibilities had been opened?
Winifred opened the book to where they had stopped last and instantly remembered why she had stopped. She bursted in laughter as her cheeks bloomed red. "I-I…" she could hardly speak. "I can't read this to you…"
Marcus averted his eyes, swallowing. He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, brimming with nervous energy. “Do what you want.”
Winifred's laughter stopped as her lis curled in a roguish smile. She clambered off the bed and went over to his bookshelf. She snatched a red covered boo off the shelf, waving it at him. "I still want to read this."
Marcus covered his face with his hands to hide the blush that continued to seep across his face. “If you must,” he mumbled, biting his lip.
((I read this whole rp through today! IT'S A FLIPPIN MASTERPIECE!!))
Winifred smiled and cleared her through. "Of Red to Rose by Jeffery Swann." She read with such flourish. "Hm. I like his name, it's appealing." She laughed softly.
(eyy high five! Also merry almost Christmas, if you celebrate
Yeah this is one of my favourite rps by far :)
Marcus couldn't help a tiny smile. "It is appealing," he agreed softly, reaching out for her hand. "I hope you like it as much as I did.."
((Yas! MERRY CHRISTMAS!!! ))
"I mean…." Winifred looked up at him. "I could take a pretty good guess because we've been in this situation before. You didn't want me to read this book before." She sat down on the bed once more and crawled towards Marcus.
:D
“I was embarrassed,” he admitted quietly. “You’d caught me off guard, you’d found perhaps the softest book in my collection. I wasn’t sure what you’d think of me.”
"Not everything about you had to be hard and pressing, Marcus. Not at all." She wrapped her arms around him.
Marcus leaned against her, pressing kisses to the top of her head. “You taught me that.. I didn’t know how to be.. sensitive, before. I didn’t know how not to pretend.”
