The fact that she had smiled at him after he'd kissed her made him giddier than it should have. Probably it was only because he had been so nervous leading up to this, so convinced that he would somehow ruin things... his stomach had already been fluttering with nerves, so any positive development was likely to mask the same base feeling as butterflies. He could explain it away very easily — but he still felt guilty about it, as she left the room.
Not for long, though, because after she departed he was faced with a more pressing dilemma: what to do with himself. He needed to get out of Tycho's suit, obviously, but what was he meant to put on instead? He'd seen her grab a night dress on her way to the lavatory and he had packed pajamas, but it felt silly to put on clothing knowing he'd be taking it off so soon. Though obviously he couldn't just undress and wait for her; having her walk in to see him naked would have been the height of embarrassment, especially if she wasn't expecting him to undress. So instead he ended up in undergarments — which took considerably less time than whatever she was doing in the lavatory. He took the time to put all the pieces of Tycho's suit away in the wardrobe where his things had been unpacked, so that he wouldn't see it again tonight... and then he removed the amulet Tycho had given him and tucked it into the bottom of the wardrobe as well. It wouldn't have gotten in the way of anything — Ty had always worn it regardless of what they were doing — but he didn't feel up to answering questions about it if his wife noticed and asked, not when the sting of the parting where Ty had given it to him was still so fresh.
Finally, she returned. Ford turned with a shy smile towards the lavatory door. He was taken aback by her appearance. She was hardly recognizable as the same woman who'd gone in. He'd never seen her with her hair down before, obviously, and he didn't think he'd ever seen anyone in something like what she was wearing. It was nothing like the night gowns his sisters wore at home; it looked soft and inviting, and he immediately had the desire to touch it. That's probably the point, he realized, and felt newly self-conscious at the idea that she (or someone assembling her trousseau) had chosen this for his benefit.
"Hi," he echoed. "You look..." He didn't know what word to put to it. He'd already told her once that she looked pretty today and didn't want to recycle the word, and anyway it wasn't quite the right one. Flowers could be pretty — she was not so much like a flower right now as she was like the scent of freshly baked bread; appetizing was the adjective that actually came to mind, but he didn't imagine she would appreciate that one. (He had never been the poet). The blush on her cheeks only compounded it, and the hesitancy of her step — like she was waiting for him to guide her or reassure her. He had felt like a fraud through this entire process, from the moment they'd decided the engagement, but here seemed to be a place where he fit.
So he crossed to her, with a smile that was slowly losing its shyness. "I like this," he said, brushing his fingertips lightly over the embroidery at her collar. He took a second to let his eyes wander over her at close range, especially given how much more of her was visible now. "And I like this," he said, moving the back of the knuckles on his left hand over her hair, where it hung down to frame her face — then leaned forward to brush it back and take her earlobe in his mouth.
They may not have been in love, and they may not have had any chance at real passion tonight, but she wanted to do this — wanted it to go well, it seemed, as much as he did — and that could be enough. Ford ran his hands down her sides and moved to kiss her neck.
Not for long, though, because after she departed he was faced with a more pressing dilemma: what to do with himself. He needed to get out of Tycho's suit, obviously, but what was he meant to put on instead? He'd seen her grab a night dress on her way to the lavatory and he had packed pajamas, but it felt silly to put on clothing knowing he'd be taking it off so soon. Though obviously he couldn't just undress and wait for her; having her walk in to see him naked would have been the height of embarrassment, especially if she wasn't expecting him to undress. So instead he ended up in undergarments — which took considerably less time than whatever she was doing in the lavatory. He took the time to put all the pieces of Tycho's suit away in the wardrobe where his things had been unpacked, so that he wouldn't see it again tonight... and then he removed the amulet Tycho had given him and tucked it into the bottom of the wardrobe as well. It wouldn't have gotten in the way of anything — Ty had always worn it regardless of what they were doing — but he didn't feel up to answering questions about it if his wife noticed and asked, not when the sting of the parting where Ty had given it to him was still so fresh.
Finally, she returned. Ford turned with a shy smile towards the lavatory door. He was taken aback by her appearance. She was hardly recognizable as the same woman who'd gone in. He'd never seen her with her hair down before, obviously, and he didn't think he'd ever seen anyone in something like what she was wearing. It was nothing like the night gowns his sisters wore at home; it looked soft and inviting, and he immediately had the desire to touch it. That's probably the point, he realized, and felt newly self-conscious at the idea that she (or someone assembling her trousseau) had chosen this for his benefit.
"Hi," he echoed. "You look..." He didn't know what word to put to it. He'd already told her once that she looked pretty today and didn't want to recycle the word, and anyway it wasn't quite the right one. Flowers could be pretty — she was not so much like a flower right now as she was like the scent of freshly baked bread; appetizing was the adjective that actually came to mind, but he didn't imagine she would appreciate that one. (He had never been the poet). The blush on her cheeks only compounded it, and the hesitancy of her step — like she was waiting for him to guide her or reassure her. He had felt like a fraud through this entire process, from the moment they'd decided the engagement, but here seemed to be a place where he fit.
So he crossed to her, with a smile that was slowly losing its shyness. "I like this," he said, brushing his fingertips lightly over the embroidery at her collar. He took a second to let his eyes wander over her at close range, especially given how much more of her was visible now. "And I like this," he said, moving the back of the knuckles on his left hand over her hair, where it hung down to frame her face — then leaned forward to brush it back and take her earlobe in his mouth.
They may not have been in love, and they may not have had any chance at real passion tonight, but she wanted to do this — wanted it to go well, it seemed, as much as he did — and that could be enough. Ford ran his hands down her sides and moved to kiss her neck.
Set by Lady!