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Her head hit the desk as a groan of frustration escaped her. Her arms hung limply at her sides, quill precariously close to falling out of her hand. There was no way she was going to finish this assignment on time. As she sulked, she heard a soft chuckle - barely audible, more like a huff - to her right. She rolled her head to the side to look at the offender. A ginger miqo’te was lounging on the couch, book in one hand, other hand behind his head.
“How can you sit there and laugh when I’m in this much despair?” she asked. “Do you have no heart?”
“As a matter of fact, I think it was stolen,” G’raha Tia grinned, crimson eyes still scanning the page in his book.
She gave him a tired smile, “I recall it as more of a trade than a theft.”
“Perhaps.” He turned to look at her. “The essay is going poorly then?”
“Yes,” she sat up and sighed. “I swear killing Primals and Lightwardens is easier than this.”
Another soft laugh. “I think you are the only person who could say that.” He returned to his book, turning a page.
“Probably, but that doesn’t make it less true.” She turned to face him, resting her head on her hand, elbow propped on the desk. She took a moment to marvel at his appearance. To think just a year ago he was sleeping in the Crystal Tower, and she thought she’d never see him again. Now here he was sitting on the couch in her office.
He caught her gaze. After a moment of surprise, he grinned as he placed the book on a nearby side table. “Why are you smiling all of a sudden?”
She hummed. “I was just thinking how much you’ve changed over the years. You’ve always been handsome, but I think I like you best like this.”
A blush settled on his cheeks, and he quickly looked away, but his ears twitched happily. She chuckled softly.
“About that assignment,” G’raha said suddenly, still looking away. “A nap might help.”
“A good idea, but it would appear my sofa is currently occupied.” she shook her head and shrugged dramatically as she stood up and approached the seat.
“I would not be opposed to sharing,” G’raha suggested with a grin, moving to make room for her. She slipped into place, into his arms.
Once they were both comfortable, she sighed contently and carded her fingers though his ginger bangs, the ones not secures by hair clips that is. As he began to purr - a low rumble she could feel in his chest - he tipped her chin with one hand, his other arm tightening around her waist.
It was a lazy kiss, slow and soft, driven by comfort more than hunger. She hummed as she nibbled on his slightly chapped lips. He tasted sweet, like strawberries, the little ones.
His eyes stayed half open, drinking in the sight of her. He was unable to close them completely in fear that when he opened them, he’d be back in the crystal tower, arms empty.
Just as she was expecting the kiss to deepen, he pulled away. “Now sleep,” he ordered.
She made a noise of discontentment. “Heartless…” she huffed softly, no real bite in her tone.
“I’ll reward you once you finish your essay,” G’raha chuckled. “Now sleep.”
“Even in Norvrandt you were always telling me to go to bed,” she complained.
“You rarely seem to rest without a reminder.”
She hummed and closed her eyes. A few moments later, he could hear her light snores. He gave a soft smile as he kissed the top of her head.
“My inspiration,” he whispered.