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[vitainmorte]

Hello, this is Cypress. If you leave me a message I will get back to you as quickly as possible.

Thank you, have a good day.

Comments

[mourningson]

[answering the door VERY QUICKLY, like he was waiting there (he was)

he is, as always, dressed in a suit + overcoat]

Welcome, Cypress.

[and immediately turning around, to lead her to his room]

[vitainmorte]

Good evening...

[ a little flustered even so, but gently closes the door behind her and follows him in. ]

[mourningson]

[pays no mind, and opens the door to his room for her

furniture-wise, his room only consists of a bed and a writing desk setup.

decoration-wise, there's:

• a sfw Cypress bodypillow sitting on the floor, occupying a corner of the room
• a pile of papers on his desk
• the snowglobe Cypress gave him, atop said papers
• that tiny canvas Cypress painted for him is Somehow hanging from a wall, it's the only thing on the wall??
• some Among Us dolls/figures
• and a medium-sized box on the floor that is Closed Shut

it's somehow Tidy, or at least, arranged to look organized]

You can sit on the bed, or the chair.

[vitainmorte]

[ STARES.... AT THE PILLOW... and goes very. very red.

more importantly though she feels a bit self-consciously like this is some sort of interrogation so she sits in the chair, straight-backed, with her hands folded neatly in her lap. ]

1/2

[mourningson]

[follows her gaze to—the pillow, oic]

[mourningson]

[sits on the edge of his bed]

You can ignore it. Fanmail is all.

[vitainmorte]

Ah-- no, it's okay, I was just... surprised.

... um. You-- wanted to talk?

[mourningson]

Yes. You crave more intimacy, right?

[vitainmorte]

[ goes-- bright red, embarrassed, and hunches her shoulders a little. ]

I-- no, listen, I really am fine with how things are now. I don't need anything else, especially if you don't want it.

[mourningson]

Take into consideration that I voluntarily summoned you for this conversation.

[vitainmorte]

[ rubs her face, looking away. ]

... then-- then what do you want...?

[mourningson]

An understanding of the intimacy you seek.

[vitainmorte]

[ silent, for a long moment, and takes a breath, still looking down. ]

I want-- things to... continue progressing, the way they have been, because being around you makes me. Happy, I think.

... I like... everything we've done together. I want to keep doing it.

[mourningson]

So it is not "more" you want?

[vitainmorte]

[ uncomfortable and embarrassed, hands clasped tightly together ]

I-- don't know? What's "more?" I like-- kissing, and holding your hand, and hugging you.

I-I wouldn't... be opposed to. "More." I think. But I don't-- um, I think-- if it were the right circumstances, I...

[ trails off, awkwardly, unsure of how to continue. ]

[mourningson]

I will not push for anything, since I myself have plenty to come to terms with.

But what exactly are the right circumstances for "more" in your mind?

[vitainmorte]

[ quiet for a long moment, thoughtful. ]

... I think-- knowing... that you wanted it, as much as I did.

[mourningson]

[a pause]

What if I have no interest in saying what I want?

[vitainmorte]

If-- you can't say it, and you won't show it... then... I'd be forced to assume you didn't want it, or that-- what I can offer isn't good enough for you to want.

I don't want to push my wants on you.

[mourningson]

...it is difficult, you know.

[vitainmorte]

[ only slightly exasperated: ]

I know.

But I want-- I want you to be able to tell me these things. ... I want to be able to discuss these things, with you. You don't have to... say it out loud, always. Over the phone, or-- a letter, or a note... anything is fine.

Whatever makes it easier for you. Whatever... helps.

[mourningson]

[sighs, closing his eyes and running his hand through his hair]

...I suppose I can try to express it.

[vitainmorte]

[ finally looks back up at him, brow knitted in worry. ]

I, um. I am... sorry. To push on this, specifically. But if... you could, I-- it would ease my mind, quite a bit.

[ a pause, before continuing, quieter; ]

... I really did think you didn't like kissing, or anything like that.

[mourningson]

[DEEP BREATH]

No, I enjoy it...

[vitainmorte]

[ cute...

smiles, despite herself, and slowly pushes herself up out of the chair to cross over to stand in front of him, holding her hands out. ]

... can I?