tushanshu | {Video}

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There is a reason why Saint Valentine is so very popular in France! Who does not like a handwritten note and a little favour at their doorstep, handed over by some pretty damsel-- or stripling? Hm? One should be willing to Rome very far indeed, to execute such a token with care to friends and loved ones, with all the haste of flying on a Cupid's wings!

Indeed, I wonder that everyone does not have a few recipients in mind already, for such favours? And to such an end, this question, most serious:

Is there a shop well-known for sturdy, pretty stationery and good pen-ink? Nothing pigmented, if you please!

If anyone knows of such a place, please point me in its direction. I'd thank you for the tip.

Ah! And for those of you who do not know me yet, salutations and introductions. I am called Joly, and I am a medical student, lately of Paris, presently as shell-shocked as the rest of the company. A pleasure to meet you!

Now, to end with a little seasonal joke, for the medically-minded among us:

Gapeworm is red, Cholera is blue,
Honey helps the lymphs, and lemon does too.
Thou are my love and I am thine;
So stay warm and dry, my Valentine!

It's very sound advice, at that. The winter months are dastardly.

Happy writing!

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If you offered me a hat, I would take it.
But I dare say I would accept kisses. Especially from such a handsome man as yourself.

And what kind of hat is your preference?

[A chuckle, sipping more.]

You are very forward! [Most men would not commend that, but...] I am easy at being called handsome Kisses will suffice nicely. If you pass me your hand, I will show you now.

A fashionable one. Blue.

[Too bad, she's the most forward of all the ladies. She passes him her hand all the same, taking another drink.] Let us see if you do my hand well.

Blue, and not something brighter?

[Setting the wine down, he took up her hand instead, and kissed its knuckles.] Judge not too harshly!

Perhaps. We shall see.

[You are stupid, Joly. Eponine considers the kiss for a moment, then decides:] No, I do not believe that was enough for me to judge. Perhaps you should try again. [she's leaning forward just a little bit.] Then I shall show you how I kiss.

[A brow raised, and he pressed his thumb over her fingers before acquiescing in his own mind.

She was not a normal girl, not by far. But should there be that prejudice held against any gentle creature? And she was no Musichetta, of that much he was very certain. But dear, pretty, clever Chetta was not here-- and judging who was in company, she might not be, for some many days.

If she was so set and settled; and so little in fear of falling in love, as her heart was declared firmly in the engaged Pontmercy's hands; then how was he to argue, as red-blooded, human, and quite without equal in tenacity here?

Fine enough, then, he kissed her hand a second time, then looking faintly amused, went on:]

You are not very shy, cherie.

I have no reason to be, Joly.

[She'd turned bold in her years on the street. She did what she had to do in order to get what she needed and wanted.]

See! There, now I judge you a fair kisser. But, I believe, you must judge me as well. [With another sip of wine, she leans forward, gently placing her lips against his.]

[Fine, then. It would be awful manners not to kiss the woman back, so when her lips met his, he leaned in to greet them with his own, both distinctly turned by the wine. And she was not bad at is, as any kiss should not be bad from a willing girl, and when Joly did pull away, it was to nod and commend,] And I judge you as being all good about it, indeed.

[She smiles contentedly. It's been some time since she's kissed someone, and she tells him this.] It's been some time since I have kissed someone, I am glad my abilities have not waned. And you, too. Your kiss lips better than hands.

Do I? I should have to work on both, so that hands might not grow jealous. I kiss those more often, but mouths with more zeal.

And you, my dear. I am not very lyrical, so I will merely say that your passions are best put by the mouth. [She was better kissing with urgency than she was with throwing his glasses with urgency.]

You are plenty lyrical! Quick to speak and pun, I do enjoy speaking with you, Theo. And I enjoy kissing with you perhaps even more.

[To prove a point, she's going to kiss him again.]

[Well, then. Who was e to deny a lady her pleasures?

If kissing it was, then so be it. Gingerly, he'd put the wine aside to prevent spill, and take her hand instead, before pouring his focus into the task and her warmth, the womanly curve of her hip very close to his own. All these things, so much better defined by a kiss!]

[With the kiss, she pulls him closer to her, enjoying the feeling of his body against hers. A hand gently caresses his soft cheek as her eyes flicker closed. Sweet, sweet Joly. She can taste the wine on his lips, and it makes it all the sweeter.

Somehow, her own glass of wine finds itself on the table.]

[Which was well enough; they did not have to be sloppy about the entire thing, though some sloppiness was implied.

He happily displaces himself, and replaces himself much nearer, an arm on the top of the seat, and a leg perched near enough against hers to distract himself between her kisses and her shape. Exactly where he liked to be, when with a woman, in any capacity. But there needed to be a softness for her to lean into too, so his free hand would be at her cheek, and though it was hollow-- he stroked it with his thumb as if it were full.

It was only right.]

[If it would have been any different, she was unaware. She presses herself against him, leaning into the kisses as her lips part against his. All was well in that she had certainly cleaned up considerably since her arrival on the turtle. Her legs spread slightly beneath her skirts, to let his leg move in between if it was his will.

The hand that was not at his cheek moved to his hair, stroking the soft honey-colored locks. Yes, she could get used to this.]

[It was indeed his will, and the fit was snug! Her fingers left a pretty enough trail along his scalp that he might return the favour by way of her waist, moving his palm there to smooth along its side, to get the girlish shape of it while he still tended the kiss. It might not be wise to quite indulge, as such... but he had ever found there to be a rustic sort of wisdom in kissing any girl who wished to have it.]

[She purrs slightly into the kiss as she feels his hand caress her side. It makes it that much easier to melt into him, to press her hips against his. Eponine finds herself deepening the kiss, parting her lips against his. Let them spend the rest of the night kissing. She wanted nothing else.]

[There was very little else to want for in life, than good health, good wine, and a woman to kiss! Change and progress, yes, but sometimes those were second to peace and joy.

He was quite at his leisure to carry on at this game, finding that she was somewhat tamer and more enjoyable in the silence, even. ~~Rude, Joly.~~]

[So rude! But then again, as she has been declared the female Grantaire, wasn't he more enjoyable then, too?

Eponine was happy to continue kissing her dear friend, fingers in his fine hair, a smile on her lips. Eventually, she came up for air.] we should do this more often. Perhaps with less breaking glass.

[Joly often tuned his friend out, truth be given! Much more unseemly, to quit listening when a woman spoke. Musichetta would have had none of such an act!

Sitting back a bit to be more at comfort, he gave a titter, shoulders raised.]

All things better done with less broken glass, assuredly!

It is true enough.

[she returns to kissing him, working to the side of his mouth. His cheek, then and his jawline.]

[Though Joly had really very little trouble sharing, and even less issue with women who were passably easy to court, still he thought he might ask, out of friendship:]

Eh, though, Eponine, a moment? There is Courfeyrac to think of, and then that Marius fellow.

[Marius he knew held little interest in her, and while he found it difficult to imagine Courfeyrac sticking to any woman jealously, it was still best to clarify.]

Will they not be very cross at us, in being too mouthy?

[She considers this. She was, as far as she was concerned, courting Courfeyrac. Marius, she simply wanted to make jealous.]

What Courfeyrac and I have is unusual. I cannot believe he would mind too much.

Is that so? Well then.

[He held out an arm to her, so she might make herself more comfortable against him.]

Let us proceed.

It is so. [She smirked, leaning against him, comfortable in his arms.]

Now kiss me, for I am yours for the night.

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fliesonfour - 2014-04-27 02:24 (UTC) - Expand

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