He reached up, smirking again, and grasped the side of her thigh, leaving a wet splotch on her dress.
“At-ta-ta-ta…” she winced and pushed his hand away. “You’ll get my clothes wet.”
“Then take it off.”
It was her turn to scoff. “So that was the plan, was it?”
He didn’t smile, and she wasn’t sure what to make of his serious expression. She shrugged and kept him in the corner of her eye. He watched her as she pulled away and untied her belt… only to refold her skirt at the waist to lift the hem to mid-thigh.
She noted that his face was still strangely impassive. “It seems to me it would have been easier to just take it off.” He rumbled.
“And let you get away with that? Hardly.” She soften her rebuke by slipping in closer. She leaned against the back of his shoulder, bending one leg beneath her and letting her other foot dangle down into the water. He accepted the conciliatory prize and massaged the offered calf. She considered reciprocating but found she was presently too comfortable to consider moving. So she simply rested her arm and chin on his shoulder and enjoyed the moment as it was. Besides, he had made himself bigger again, so rubbing his shoulders seemed like far too much work at the moment.
She smirked a little. It seemed that he was getting a little larger each day… as if his frustration was linked to his size. It was, she considered, though not in that way. It was no doubt a conscious effort to display his growing impatience and encroaching ire to his brethren, and to do it through sheer intimidation. It amused her somewhat, even if she feared what the reaction of said brethren might eventually be.
But then his size did have other benefits. There was something inexplicably wonderful about being able to wrap herself around him completely and still not encompass him fully. She closed her eyes and smirked, even in his smallest form he was a proper giant in that respect. Currently, draped as she was over his shoulder, that fact was more than obvious.
She slid her foot along his thigh, tracing its thick length. As she did, a snippet of some half remembered poem tripped brokenly through her mind: I know the shape of his leg; this is his hand; his foot mercurial; his martial thigh…
Her own leg, her foot, felt small and delicate pressed against him.
She opened her eyes again and found his eyes closed, allowing her to freely examine and admire the broad angles of his profile. At least until he sighed deeply, upsetting her perch.
“What’s troubling you, my Lord?” She asked softly, her eyes lingering on the heavy line of his jaw and the point of his tooth indented against his bottom lip.
“I’m bored. I hate sitting and waiting. I’ve been here too long as it is.” She could tell by the edge in his voice that it was far more than boredom weighing on his mind.
She ran her fingernails up the back of his neck and felt him shudder slightly beneath her touch. She pressed her lips against his shoulder and smiled, if sadly.
“You’re going, aren’t you?” It was barely a question.
His fingers tightened around her ankle. She looked down at it, wondering at how his hand dwarfed her. “This upsets you.” He wasn’t going to deny it at least.
She hadn’t thought she sounded upset, but maybe he just knew her well enough to tell. “I can tolerate this place when you’re here…” She left the thought half finished, and saw him nod slightly.
“I’m afraid.” She added after another silent moment.
“I have no intention of leaving you here.”
She lifted her head at that, and searched his face with her eyes. “When will we go then?”
He tilted his head toward her and she could see the light in his red-gold eyes and the flicker of subdued fire. “Soon.” His hand slid up her calf, twisting to draw his finger tips across the backs of her knee. It was her turn to shiver.
She pressed her body more tightly to his. “I want to go home.”
“With me?”
She frowned and pulled away enough to meet his eyes. “You mean instead of with Demitri?”
“I mean to clarify which home you mean.” He eyed her with a side long stare. “There is your father’s home…” It was his turn to leave his thoughts incomplete. She pulled away and straightened, cocking her head to the side and frowning deeply.
“I fear I don’t understand your question, and if I do… I don’t think I like it.”
His cool expression faltered and he raised a brow. “No?”
“No.”
She thought she saw his lip twitch.
He turned toward her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her in closer. “Calliope, I want to ask you something.” She could feel the damp of his arm filtering through the cloth, but the look in his eyes made it hardly worth mentioning. Something was wrong.
She wet her lips and eyed him uncertainly. “What is it?”
He ground his jaw and looked away, expelling a harsh breath, then back into her eyes. “If something were to happen-”
It was her turn to look away, “-Thelios, don’t say such-”
“Listen.” His voice was low, but insistent. His hand gripped her hip tightly, prompting her to turn back to him. She didn’t want to hear what he had to say, but she held her tongue. He noted her compliance and continued. “‘If’ does not mean ‘when,’ Calliope.”
“I know.” She offered softly when he seemed to require a response.
“It’s perfectly reasonable to make contingencies.” Again, he paused.
“I know.”
“We need to discuss the possibility that something could happen to me.”
She remained silent, even when he prompted her to speak by squeezing her hip again. “Well?” He finally asked.
“I don’t want to talk about it… or discuss it, or… consider it.” She swallowed hard to keep back the hot tears she knew were creating a lump in her throat. Thelios opened his mouth to argue and she help up a stalling finger. “But… I will.”
He looked at her a moment, thoughtfully. “It isn’t just you I’m trying to protect.” He added in a low rumble.
She didn’t know what to say to that. He hadn’t really mention the child since she’d told him, even indirectly, and there was something about what he’d just said that sent a strange warmth through her limbs.