[ He side-steps the pillow easily, letting it fall to the floor and slide out to the hall. Merlin can deal with it later. He pops another grape into his mouth, then chucks one at her shoulder as he walks over. ]
Target practise.
[ You know, with your face. But then he comes behind her to lean over and peer down at her book. ]
I hope this isn't more poetry. I was certain my eyes would bleed from my skull after all the texts that old hag of ours forced upon me.
[ She waits until he's close enough for her to reach and lightly hit him with said book across the shoulder, stealing a grape from the bawl in the meantime. ]
I enjoyed them. You lack all refined taste.
[ Still, she moves to allow him to sit, lacking all of her usual ladylike manners. They matter little with Arthur; or at least, matters little when he's throwing grapes at her head. ]
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no subject
Target practise.
[ You know, with your face. But then he comes behind her to lean over and peer down at her book. ]
I hope this isn't more poetry. I was certain my eyes would bleed from my skull after all the texts that old hag of ours forced upon me.
no subject
I enjoyed them. You lack all refined taste.
[ Still, she moves to allow him to sit, lacking all of her usual ladylike manners. They matter little with Arthur; or at least, matters little when he's throwing grapes at her head. ]
Sappho.