22.Sep.18, 06:34 AM
Mylorah laughed at the silly nickname they came up with one night in the bath together and squealed when she was pulled down onto the bed and into a hug. She was still giggling as she practically burrowed into Misharan, happy to be back with the man and enjoying the hug. It wasn’t that she had been deprived of friends, or hugs, or lying in bed with someone, but it was nice to be able to do so again with a dear friend. “I’ve missed you terribly,” she confessed, a tad more dramatically than what was needed but she was in a playful mood.
It was likely what egged her on when she recalled the audience they had. She knew one of the boys so he was likely to know her well enough to know her teasing but the others were fair game and she smiled wickedly at them as she hooked a leg over Misharan’s before repositioning herself to sit straddling him. “I apologise to the owner of this bed,” she knew it wasn’t Misharan’s. Telgar was his home Weyr and she knew from stories he shared that his bed was elsewhere. She had only checked the barracks first knowing he needed to interact with people to live and wouldn’t sit alone in his room at such an early hour.
“But your bed is being confiscated for a while. And I assure you, that nothing you come up with will come close to what will actually take place here,” a hand was set on Misharan’s chest, further staking a claim on the man she had pinned to the bed, and bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. She also couldn’t look at Misharan. The whole thing would fall apart in a wave of giggles if she saw his face and whatever expression he wore. He would likely play along and Mylorah had a feeling that would set her off more than confusion or humour would.
It was likely what egged her on when she recalled the audience they had. She knew one of the boys so he was likely to know her well enough to know her teasing but the others were fair game and she smiled wickedly at them as she hooked a leg over Misharan’s before repositioning herself to sit straddling him. “I apologise to the owner of this bed,” she knew it wasn’t Misharan’s. Telgar was his home Weyr and she knew from stories he shared that his bed was elsewhere. She had only checked the barracks first knowing he needed to interact with people to live and wouldn’t sit alone in his room at such an early hour.
“But your bed is being confiscated for a while. And I assure you, that nothing you come up with will come close to what will actually take place here,” a hand was set on Misharan’s chest, further staking a claim on the man she had pinned to the bed, and bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. She also couldn’t look at Misharan. The whole thing would fall apart in a wave of giggles if she saw his face and whatever expression he wore. He would likely play along and Mylorah had a feeling that would set her off more than confusion or humour would.