peterpaulwisdom:

  Pete had to appreciate the fact they worked like cogs, clicking and turning akin to a well-oiled machine only needing a little extra attention after its long deserved rest. She wasn’t a fighter these days, wouldn’t push him aside to keep him gone from her life in fear he would ruin everything and they’d start all over again. She was calmer, calculated perhaps but the older had no intentions on pushing his luck and instead proceeded to follow events as they continued to unfold. He would hum gently at her soft caresses, would brush his nose over her temple as his thumb hooks around her fingers to keep their bodies close and their hands even closer before allowing digits to simply entwine as he fiddles “Could say that. Enjoy spendin’ time without gettin’ weird looks. Plus. Can let you wear me tie.” All innuendos aside she knew he loved the sight of her wearing his clothes, a slight smile lingering as the faint touches allowed him a moment of clarity “Think you like ‘em too though, Kitten. Can’t say there’s not bloody good memories.” His favourite, however, involving the mermaids and their rather unsagely relationship advice.

  With no further questions does he react to her wondering thoughts. One arm winds swiftly around her back as the other retracts her knees, lifting his lover (perhaps only on a temporary level) effortlessly off the ground and topping it off with a brief kiss. Hoping she didn’t phase and equally that she didn’t cause a scene he shuffles past the concierge with a glare at the judgemental expression, moseying down the London streets with breath expelled in tiny little clouds and a fondness he couldn’t quite put his finger on. But he moves with knowledge shed probably argue their positioning before instead taking the route to their usual Chinese place that did the dumplings the way she pined over when the late evening arose, glancing down at how small she looked regardless of their comparative sizes “As much as I’d love somethin’ greasy and deep fried, how’s the usual sound?”

     She grunted as she was swept off her feet-    a noise buried into his kiss and then the scruff his neck as she wasted no time making herself comfortable in his arms. It was a joke, carry me like real gentlemen do, but she’d never known him to take her requests anything but seriously. Carry me. Done. Meet me here. Done. Bite me. Double done. It was only a thought but she’d reciprocate it, idly biting and kisses wherever she could reach as he spoke on a matter she considered dead as soon as it left her lips. She was distracting and she knew it. The only courtesy she gave to onlookers was keeping her feet tucked under her knees so as not to kick anyone he, and subsequently she, passed. “Very good memories,” She surfaced only to confirm how he felt, breath ghosting over where her lips once were, a purr raising where words ended.

“All dress up for Chinese food.” It was a haughty jest that saw her hand freed from the clutch she had around his neck so she might lightly trail her fingers down his jawline and keep heading down to  his neck and playfully removing his tie (it was actually a bit of a struggle, getting it stuck around his head and obscuring his view for seconds where they could have with just about anyone in the street). “It’s not right Mister Wisdom.” All that just to put it around her neck like he liked. She knew this path and she knew where they were going. She liked their habits. She liked their memories. He was right on all accounts. He knew what she knew; it was a wonder neither could put a finger on why she never stayed. They could poke and prod at it all they wanted but she could feel that the both of them were wary of her exit stage right. “Do you think they remember us? They do at your pub.”

Dec 17 15:50 ( ♥ 19 )