yosafbridge | OOM: Upstairs.

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OOM: Upstairs.

After a particularly rousing evening, Saffron wakes up to a dimly lit room and a body sleeping soundly in the bed next to her.

He doesn't look like he'll be waking up any time soon, so she dresses quickly and quietly, running a comb through her red curls, and then slips downstairs to bring a few things back up to the room with her.

There's a tray in her hands when she comes up, with a hot thermos full of good, strong caf and some assorted breakfast food - a plate of eggs, some toast, a bowl of assorted sliced fruit. Most of it she wouldn't touch herself, apart from the fruit (and Bar serves fruit that's all kinds of fantastic), but when she'd put in the request, it's what she'd been given, and she can at least nibble on a few things.

He's still asleep when she gets back, so she sets the tray down at the foot of the bed, kicking out of her jeans to leave herself in his shirt, and then crawls back under the covers to drape her body over his, leaning in to nibble on his earlobe.

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He wakes slowly and with a certain languor, one of his hands finding her shoulder and sliding down her arm as a crooked smile spreads on his face.

"Mornin' already?" he asks, diction still clear despite the fact that he's shaking off sleep.

"And you've been up and about already," he adds, noting that she's dressed (half so, at least) as he shifts, lips finding her cheek.

"Early bird."

"Maybe not everywhere," she admits, but she's trained her body to a certain biological clock which may not exactly mimic the hours in other worlds.

Either way, she's more than prepared to do a good job of waking him, one hand sliding over the broadest part of his chest.

"Brought you some nourishment."

"You are too good to me," he murmurs, arms wrapping loosely around her waist. Humming under his breath, he cranes his neck to kiss her neck before moving to sit up.

"Not that good," she answers, but she smiles, brief and to herself, before she reaches one hand into the fruit bowl and pulls out a fresh strawberry.

The manner in which she proceeds to eat it could be referred by some as indecent.

Hell if he isn't happy just to watch. He runs his tongue across his lips, biting down before he very carefully reaches forward to take the stem.

Her lips might brush against the pad of his thumb, teeth scraping lightly before she leans back and chews.

She reaches for the thermos, screwing open the top, and the scent of the kafei is near-heavenly.

"Help yourself."

"Will do."

The food the bar provides is distinctly better than anything served in Fox River, so he doesn't have to be told twice.

(He doesn't remember the last time he's really taken the time to enjoy breakfast.)

She'll take another strawberry to enjoy while he proceeds to dig in, and then fills up a mug of caf for herself.

"Anyone going to be expecting you back home yet?"

He takes a moment to consider the question, rolling his shoulders back.

"I reckon the boys'll be alright."

She lounges behind him, pressing a slightly-sticky and open-mouthed kiss to his shoulder.

"I fully admit to wanting to be selfish."

This prompts a low laugh as he straightens up, eyes closing briefly at the touch of her lips on his skin.

"And I fully admit to wanting to indulge," he hums, finding one of her hands to press a kiss to her knuckles. "You think anyone'll complain, pretty?"

"There'd be something to say about it if they did."

Admittedly, she's not a fan of sharing, and if it's left up to her, he won't be disappearing any time soon.

"Is that right?" he asks, following her arm up to the curve of her neck.

"Tell me."

He's doing a thoroughly good job of causing her to forget her words; she'll give him that.

"Not so sure I can; you're making me all kinds of distracted," she says, soft and teasing.

He grins, by this point so close that he fancies he can smell traces of strawberry on her breath.

"Don't suppose there's anythin' I could do to help you focus?"

She bites her lower lip, hints of mischief in her grin, her eyes sparkling dangerously.

"Keep it up and one might be under the impression that you were insatiable."

(Not that she's complaining.)

He holds up a hand as if in protest.

"Only when it comes to the finer things in life."

"Such as?"

She leans forward to wrap her lips around one of his fingers.

"Apart from the obvious."

He drags his teeth across his lower lip, sucking in a deep breath.

"Good food," he begins, eyes fixed on her, "Good conversation, beautiful women -- none of which I can complain about lacking at the present moment."

She grins, then giggles, a soft vibration around his fingertips.

"Happy to satisfy."

"Oh, I'm more than satisfied," he assures her, running his tongue once along his lips.

"Can't imagine any man wouldn't be."

She's still grinning as she pulls away from him, reaching out towards the tray to stab and eat a forkful of what's left of the scrambled eggs before they get cold.

"You're right. These are good."

"Lady Bar ain't known for doin' things halfway," he says, shrugging one shoulder.

"Not when it comes to food."

"You don't seem to have that problem, either," she tells him.

Not based on his track record from last night.

"I try my best," he assures her, grinning over the rim of one of the mugs.

"And I'd repay the compliment."

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