[She's not exactly expecting him to burst out laughing but she's not mad about it either. Instead she finds it a comforting sound, expression softening as he tips his head against her shoulder to get all his guffaws out. The peck to her lips catches her off guard, causing her cheeks to flare hot once more.
Trevor may be a Demon Hunter but there's something devilish about the smile he gives her.]
Oh how truly blessed I am. Shall I call you Saint Trevor then? I don't think the church has canonized one yet.
I think the only canonizing the Church would ever want to do to me would be loading my still-living body into a canon.
[Thank goodness that they're able to break up the tension a little with this interlude, because -- yeah, he knew that the conversation they'd just had was necessary, but he'd wanted it to happen about as much as he'd wanted his entire family to be murdered.
He drops down onto the couch, cautiously sliding his arm around her waist to coax her to sit against him as he does so.]
[It's Sypha's turn to snicker as she lets Trevor draw her toward him, guiding her back onto the couch, cuddled up against his side. He's being cautious and honestly she doesn't blame him - she would be too if the tables were turned. Her pulse is just a little quicker than normal as she allows herself to relax against his side.]
Unfortunately you wouldn't be doing much feasting on your feast day.
[Since, y'know, you have to be dead to be a Saint.]
[Look, it isn't like he knows all the stupid rules for being a Saint. Besides, he knows Jeanne is here, and supposedly she'd become a Saint, but she's -- sort of alive, so that's obviously a bullshit rule.
He chuckles, though, and gives her a squeeze once she settles in against him.
Right. He really should do ... something else.]
Sypha, I need you to understand that you can tell me if ever there's something that you're -- that you don't want to do. All right?
[Trevor glances over to the laundry room. Her clothes ought to be clean soon, but he's content for now to just be settled on the couch with her: it isn't as if they'd had much down time during the whole pursuit of Dracula and his evil horde, after all. This is -- a nice change.]
It's honestly kind of nice, just to sit quietly with him like this, in a big, clean home that's filled with curiosities. They had been on the move for so long, trekking through harsh terrain, trying to survive not only enemies that had been sent after them but the very elements themselves.
It's comfortable. Perhaps a little too comfortable.]
You are making me feel a bit pampered, Trevor. Like a noblewoman, or something of that sort.
It's a realization she's quickly coming to, as she feels him lean down over her to grace the crown of her head with a kiss. She's honestly not sure what to make of it. It's not a bad thing by any means, she likes it, but it is something to get used to, namely because she's realizing she herself is beyond awkward when it comes to returning it.]
Well I would hope so, although I cannot say I have crossed paths with many.
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Trevor may be a Demon Hunter but there's something devilish about the smile he gives her.]
Oh how truly blessed I am. Shall I call you Saint Trevor then? I don't think the church has canonized one yet.
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[Thank goodness that they're able to break up the tension a little with this interlude, because -- yeah, he knew that the conversation they'd just had was necessary, but he'd wanted it to happen about as much as he'd wanted his entire family to be murdered.
He drops down onto the couch, cautiously sliding his arm around her waist to coax her to sit against him as he does so.]
But I might be amenable to having a feast day.
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Unfortunately you wouldn't be doing much feasting on your feast day.
[Since, y'know, you have to be dead to be a Saint.]
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He chuckles, though, and gives her a squeeze once she settles in against him.
Right. He really should do ... something else.]
Sypha, I need you to understand that you can tell me if ever there's something that you're -- that you don't want to do. All right?
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Oh I will. You do not have to worry about that, Trevor.
[Because if there's one thing Sypha is good at it's letting people know how she feels about things. Loudly.]
And I will try to use my words and not my fists.
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[Trevor glances over to the laundry room. Her clothes ought to be clean soon, but he's content for now to just be settled on the couch with her: it isn't as if they'd had much down time during the whole pursuit of Dracula and his evil horde, after all. This is -- a nice change.]
We'll get everything settled soon.
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It's honestly kind of nice, just to sit quietly with him like this, in a big, clean home that's filled with curiosities. They had been on the move for so long, trekking through harsh terrain, trying to survive not only enemies that had been sent after them but the very elements themselves.
It's comfortable. Perhaps a little too comfortable.]
You are making me feel a bit pampered, Trevor. Like a noblewoman, or something of that sort.
[She can definitely be bratty enough.]
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[He smirks, leaning against her gently and pressing a kiss to the top of her head.]
I treat you much better than I've treated most noblewomen I've come across.
[Granted, she also hasn't been trying to throw anything at or on him lately.]
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It's a realization she's quickly coming to, as she feels him lean down over her to grace the crown of her head with a kiss. She's honestly not sure what to make of it. It's not a bad thing by any means, she likes it, but it is something to get used to, namely because she's realizing she herself is beyond awkward when it comes to returning it.]
Well I would hope so, although I cannot say I have crossed paths with many.