[ Jill gets up to sit on his lap, and Clive immediately loops his arms around her waist, keeping her tucked and close as he noses against her jaw, her ear. ]
Of course.
[ She could be reciting the driest bits of Sanbrequois history to him, and he'd be raptly attentive. ] I'd listen to anything you have to say.
[He's distracting, when he's all sweet and affectionate and she's trying to remember what she was going to say. She takes a moment to cup his jaw and press a kiss to his lips.
Oh. She remembers now.]
I could very much use a bath. [She is... sticky.] Do you know where I might find one? Better yet, someone to wash me?
[As if they weren't just in the water before they got instantly distracted by their bodies.]
[ A mirrored moment, where he's too affection-stupid and orgasm-dumb to properly understand what Jill is asking. He blinks his lack of comprehension out of his eyes a moment later, and lands another kiss to Jill's jaw. ]
I may need to ask around.
[ Says the ass-naked man slowly getting up off of the bed (his legs feel like flan but it's fine, he's fine), Jill in tow. If he has his way, her feet would never touch the floor from now until they have to return to the Hideaway. ]
―On second thought, I'd not let anyone else wash you.
[ It would be an unbelievably embarrassing end to their story if Clive slipped and fell and cracked his head open, so he maintains balance until they reach their spacious bath again, gently lowering the both of them back into the scented, warm water.
He might be a puddle by the end of the day. Dalimil is sweltering, and the bath is comfortable, and Jill's company is already making him feel soft and boneless. She'll need to sweep him up and put him into a jar. ]
You'd love me even if I were a petty, jealous man?
[Is this his version of asking if she'd still love him if he were a worm? Jill laughs, leaning in to bump their noses together.]
Yes. I couldn't imagine it, but yes. I can't imagine what would make you jealous. All of me belongs to you, and happily so. Yours is the only attention I could ever crave.
[Jill, meanwhile, will have to school her RBF whenever another woman talks to Clive. It's fine. It's totally fine.]
[ Isabelle is lucky Jill wasn't around when she was touching up on Jill's man.......... that said, Clive's dick won't so much as stir around women who aren't Jill, so there's that.
A low hum, affectionate, and Clive subtly, subtly sifts some water over Jill's slightly-dirtied chest. ]
[So subtle! Jill smiles and tips her head to the side so that he can have easier access to her chest and neck. She's sticky. Not that it bothers her at all. All the more reason for them to lounge in the bath.]
[ He sloughs the stickiness off of her by pooling water in his palm and cascading it over her collarbone and down her chest. Once he's sure that everything is relatively clean, he dips his head to kiss where he'd previously made a mess, not quite able to quell the urge to nip and leave a lovebite there. ]
My biggest competition. [ Honestly, he wouldn't even be mad if Jill chose their dog over him. Torgal is, in fact, the Best Boy. ] Our bard's been composing sonnets about you, but I don't think I need to worry about him.
[She laughs softly when she feels teeth, a wet hand lifting to comb through his hair. It’s impossible to not press a kiss to his head, so she does, warm and fond.]
You know you're my favorite. The love of my life, and whatever comes after.
[ The only person who will ever hold his heart, utterly and completely. She means everything to him, and her attention and care help him feel real. Human.
That said: ] ―Though I do want to hear what the bard's been writing.
[ They're very nice, actually. And mostly unspecific enough that Clive doesn't feel self-conscious about the bard narrating current events through song.
He laughs, anyway. ] "On frost-white wings doth Our Lady fly, dovelike in her grace..."
[ Making Shit Up. Channeling his inner theater boy. ]
[ A reciprocal oh, as Clive watches Jill flush. That, in turn, is the cutest thing Clive's seen, and he smiles against Jill's mouth as he tries to continue, muffled: ]
"Though bring she does her winter chill, the summer of her smile thaws, the lonely autumn of my heart, and spring she blooms forevermore."
[ Again, maybe he's written a love poem or two (or many) in his journal. He's been pining for years. ]
[ He tips to meet her, their mouths flush and their lips molten with all the kisses they've already traded. Clive thinks he could spend hours like this, tangled and warm and as close as they can be, lost to touch and affection.
So he fully means what he says when they finally part for air. ]
I'll never stop wanting to win your heart.
[ He loves her, and she loves him. That won't stop him from wanting to give her more, always. ]
[She understands the desire, of course. She loves him so much she can't stop from wanting to dote on him, smother him with affection, and make him feel it. He should always feel like the most loved man in the world.]
[ A light groan. ] I've had my fill of fighting myself. [ He can speak fondly about it now, five years displaced from the fact. An ache that he keeps close to his chest.
It's a joke that he moves quickly on from. ] ―Do you want more time in this room? Or do you want to explore Dalimil for a bit?
Even for you, I wouldn't walk the streets of Dalimil naked.
[ She's the love of his life, but even he has to say no to her sometimes. (Even if he doesn't like it!!!) A palm settles on Jill's cheek, as he tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear. Her updo is moments away from coming undone. ]
[ "Let out" makes him laugh, as does "handsome". Is he? When most people comment on his looks, it's usually with a slight tinge of derision－ as if a man with a sword should look a certain other way, or if they think Clive has an ego about his appearances. Even Cid had used the word pretty to describe him, and it'd felt more like a dig than anything else.
Clive touches his fingertips to his own face, along the scar where the brand used to be. ]
Father wore my features better, I think. [ Regal, stately. ] He was far tidier than I am, at any rate.
[ Maybe if he put product in his hair once in a while, it might behave. ]
[Jill's fingers lightly brush his aside so she can trace that scar herself. She still remembers when he asked Tarja to remove it. The way Jill paced, the screams. The wound that seemed so large on his face, and yet she still thought he was the most handsome man in Valisthea. That's the spot she presses a kiss to next, dropping her hand to his neck, warm and soft.]
...As long as you're not ashamed to walk by my side.
[ Tipping his face to give Jill easier access to the scar, and leaning into her kiss. He has a feeling that she doesn't quite like talking about Elwin, and that's fine: the truth remains that his father did wrench Jill from her homeland to broker peace, and she's allowed her opinions of him. ]
Now, you still haven't decided－ do you want to keep me for yourself, or are you feeling generous?
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Of course.
[ She could be reciting the driest bits of Sanbrequois history to him, and he'd be raptly attentive. ] I'd listen to anything you have to say.
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Oh. She remembers now.]
I could very much use a bath. [She is... sticky.] Do you know where I might find one? Better yet, someone to wash me?
[As if they weren't just in the water before they got instantly distracted by their bodies.]
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I may need to ask around.
[ Says the ass-naked man slowly getting up off of the bed (his legs feel like flan but it's fine, he's fine), Jill in tow. If he has his way, her feet would never touch the floor from now until they have to return to the Hideaway. ]
―On second thought, I'd not let anyone else wash you.
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[She would kiss him again, but she suspects his legs might be a little wobbly. Let's not mix that with wet floors and carrying her, too.]
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He might be a puddle by the end of the day. Dalimil is sweltering, and the bath is comfortable, and Jill's company is already making him feel soft and boneless. She'll need to sweep him up and put him into a jar. ]
You'd love me even if I were a petty, jealous man?
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Yes. I couldn't imagine it, but yes. I can't imagine what would make you jealous. All of me belongs to you, and happily so. Yours is the only attention I could ever crave.
[Jill, meanwhile, will have to school her RBF whenever another woman talks to Clive. It's fine. It's totally fine.]
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A low hum, affectionate, and Clive subtly, subtly sifts some water over Jill's slightly-dirtied chest. ]
Don't let Torgal hear that.
[ Their dog son!!!! ]
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Oh, Torgal is a given. I shouldn't need to say.
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My biggest competition. [ Honestly, he wouldn't even be mad if Jill chose their dog over him. Torgal is, in fact, the Best Boy. ] Our bard's been composing sonnets about you, but I don't think I need to worry about him.
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[She laughs softly when she feels teeth, a wet hand lifting to comb through his hair. It’s impossible to not press a kiss to his head, so she does, warm and fond.]
You know you're my favorite. The love of my life, and whatever comes after.
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[ The only person who will ever hold his heart, utterly and completely. She means everything to him, and her attention and care help him feel real. Human.
That said: ] ―Though I do want to hear what the bard's been writing.
[ Waxing poetic about Jill? Sign him up. ]
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Are you actually serious about the beard writing about me? I thought you were joking. That's mortifying, actually...
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[ They're very nice, actually. And mostly unspecific enough that Clive doesn't feel self-conscious about the bard narrating current events through song.
He laughs, anyway. ] "On frost-white wings doth Our Lady fly, dovelike in her grace..."
[ Making Shit Up. Channeling his inner theater boy. ]
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She laughs before shutting him up with a kiss. It's so precious she has to stop him. Her heart can't take it.]
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"Though bring she does her winter chill, the summer of her smile thaws,
the lonely autumn of my heart, and spring she blooms forevermore."
[ Again, maybe he's written a love poem or two (or many) in his journal. He's been pining for years. ]
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[A playful murmur against his lips. How special to have a man able to wield a sword and eikons and pretty words. She's charmed.]
My sweetheart.
[She kisses him again, full of love.]
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So he fully means what he says when they finally part for air. ]
I'll never stop wanting to win your heart.
[ He loves her, and she loves him. That won't stop him from wanting to give her more, always. ]
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[She understands the desire, of course. She loves him so much she can't stop from wanting to dote on him, smother him with affection, and make him feel it. He should always feel like the most loved man in the world.]
You're very good to me, Clive.
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It's a joke that he moves quickly on from. ] ―Do you want more time in this room? Or do you want to explore Dalimil for a bit?
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A difficult choice. If we leave, we would have to dress...
[Like she doesn't get to look upon him regularly.]
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[ She's the love of his life, but even he has to say no to her sometimes. (Even if he doesn't like it!!!) A palm settles on Jill's cheek, as he tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear. Her updo is moments away from coming undone. ]
L'ubor wouldn't let me hear the end of it.
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[She jokes! ... mostly. Jill takes a moment to admire his face, the blue of his eyes, the line of his jaw.]
You're too handsome, I fear.
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Clive touches his fingertips to his own face, along the scar where the brand used to be. ]
Father wore my features better, I think. [ Regal, stately. ] He was far tidier than I am, at any rate.
[ Maybe if he put product in his hair once in a while, it might behave. ]
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No. You're perfect.
[Mop of hair and all.]
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[ Tipping his face to give Jill easier access to the scar, and leaning into her kiss. He has a feeling that she doesn't quite like talking about Elwin, and that's fine: the truth remains that his father did wrench Jill from her homeland to broker peace, and she's allowed her opinions of him. ]
Now, you still haven't decided－ do you want to keep me for yourself, or are you feeling generous?
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