Brenna, Timotin


Two workaholic traders find time to meet one another for dinner and a walk, and a quiet connection begins.


It is early evening on the 19th day of the twelfth month of the twelfth turn of the 12th pass.


Oasis Inn, Igen Weyr

OOC Date 14 Jan 2018 07:00


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“There’s something to be said for comfortable silences. Especially when they can be shared."


Oasis Inn

Tucked into a small fold of foothills along the road leading from the Weyr to the Central Pass, this inn truly is just what its name implies - an oasis for travelers coming from either direction. Stabling and board are available - though the boarding comes at a price, since there isn’t much of it. The most well known part of the Inn is the tavern - a rustic bar built of solid skybroom and furnished in dark, oiled wood, leather, metal, and glass. Though well used and sometimes abused, the furniture is also well cared for and maintained, and the food and drink draw many a rider in alongside the travelers. The décor is eclectic, consisting in hangings, rugs, carvings, and other things from every region of Pern, bestowed upon the owner in barter for lodging. The atmosphere isn’t one of a dive; it’s cozier and cleaner than that, though there is just a touch of harmless “shady” to be found - particularly in the evenings.

In all the time the Reika have been at Igen, Brenna has never managed to venture out to the Oasis Inn. To be fair, however, she’s really never felt she’s had a reason. But after the interesting turn of events with Timotin at Willimina’s birthday party, trying something different has seemed more and more appealing to the wheelwright. Meeting up here had been her suggestion, and so here she waits, ensconced in a booth for two as she waits for the Zingari weaver to walk through the door.
The Inn is quiet so far this evening, which she appreciates, the crackling of the fire that keeps the evening chill at bay lending the place a cozy, perhaps even somewhat romantic atmosphere for all it’s rustic…but it’s the sort of charm that Brenna enjoys. She’s wearing the pink off-the-shoulder top Timotin designed for her, soft black boots and dark fitted trousers completing the rest of her outfit…save for the fact that she’s actually wearing a bit of jewelry. An intricate round pendant of interwoven gold and copper hangs on a thin gold braid around her neck, a pair of matching earrings visible beyond the drape of soft brown locks left free to brush her shoulders. The necklace provides a bit of a fidget, however; the Reika woman can be observed tracing the chain with her middle fingertip from one collarbone to the other as she waits.

Timo is running just a few moments late, having been working on a very special order. Seems they’ve hit a season for weddings in the Zingari camp and Timotin has a couple of sets of wedding attire to tend to. He’d been dressed and ready for his date with Brenna when Igraine had shown up or a fitting he’d completely forgotten he’d scheduled with her. He’d had to make the fitting brief in order to get out his door in some semblance of good time. And so, because of his rushing, he walks in the door handsomely tailored, but with a couple of pins in his tunic sleeve and a short length of measuring rope around his neck. Otherwise, he’s outfitted quite nicely, a fitted black tunic with emerald lacing tucked into midnight black trousers and black boots. He’s got an emerald leather belt at his waist and a jacket thrown over his shoulder. Light blue eyes scan the crowd for his newly favorite Reika woman. He spots her soon enough and moves to greet her, a sheepish look on his face as he tosses his Jacket into the booth seat and slides in across from her. “Sorry I’m late, I forgot about an appointment…”

Brenna doesn’t notice anything off about Timotin’s attire when she first sees him, her gaze immediately taking in how very well his black garb fits him. Then the splashes of emerald catch her eye next, the belt and the lacings at his collar. “You’re not very late,” she assures him with a skewed smile, and then spots the measuring rope and pins. “You’re wearing a few accessories, though…” For a moment it looks like she might be reaching for his hand, but she instead plucks the pins from his sleeve, a subtly impish glint to her eyes as she holds them out in her fingertips.

Timo looks relieved he doesn’t seem to be too late. That skewed smile of Brenna’s is returned with a roguish one of his own that turns a bit sheepish as she plucks the pins from his shirt. “A tailor’s work is never done…” He says in response, a low laugh tumbling from his lips. “I guess I just thought I’d bring some of it with me.” He drops a wink to Brenna and checks the rest of his sleeves for pins, noticing his measuring rope in the process. He plucks it from his neck and stuffs it in his pocket. Good thing he’s sitting or it would totally ruin the line of his pants.

Brenna can’t help but chuckle when Timo finally notes his measuring rope and stuffs it away. “I’m glad I decided to wear what you made me, then,” she notes, spying a server headed their way past the weaver’s shoulder, “or else you’d probably start working on whatever else I’d chosen.” Not that she has any bad-fitting clothes; they’re just not made with handiwork as exacting as he’s shown his to be. When the server makes it to their tableside, she smiles up at him and orders a Nabolese cider, “If you have it,” which they fortunately do. The server then turns to Timo, setting a hide menu down on the table as he waits for the man’s drink order, efficiently slipping away once that’s accomplished.

“Oh I’m sure you look radiant in anything you wear Ms. Brenna.” Timo smiles warmly and waits patiently for Brenna to order her cider. Timo himself orders an ale when his own time comes and then turns back to look at Brenna once that’s finished. “I was glad to see you at the party, good to see you are indeed trying to come to more events.” Timo has been finding himself looking for the lovely wheelwright every time they have a performance night.

Brenna dips her head at that, her cheeks flushing subtly. “I doubt you’d say that if you saw me after a day of work,” she notes, and smiles for his words about the party. “Well, I may have a motivation or two helping me to get for such things more often. And…thank you for the dances once you’d finished, if I didn’t say it before.” She’s sure she must have, but it never hurts to say it again. “And for putting up with my rustiness.”

Timotin grins. “You are quite welcome. Though I’m sure you noticed I am not my cousin Willa, she got all the dancing traits.” He laughs. “So thank you for dealing with my rustiness too.” He’s grinning as their drinks are delivered and is still smiling when he moves to take a drink of his ale and take a look at the menu. “You know… I don’t think I’ve actually ever been here…”

“It would be surprising if you could move like your cousin,” Brenna counters with another bit of a blush, chuckling as she gets her cider and nods her thanks to the server. “Some of the things your dancers can do seem downright impossible.” She studies Timo a bit as he looks over the menu, then glances around as he mentions not having been to the place before. “Me either,” she confesses, “so we make a pair, then. Discovering something new in good company.” She notes the heading “Soups & Stews” along the left side, even upside down, and gently taps a finger above it. “I’ve heard several people in the caravan say they swear by the stews here before they head out through the passes. I was thinking of one of those myself. Something that might keep a body warm on a walk, if they were of a mind.” A category she might evidently fall under later.

Timotin chuckles at Brenna’s first, nodding his agreement. “Not all Zingari can move that way. I don’t half understand how they do it either.” His eyes roam to the soups and stews as Brenna points them out and he glances at the items listed there. “Aye, a good, warm and hearty meal does sound quite appealing.” And one can only eat so much curry. “Perhaps I’ll try the stew as well…” No harm in looking at the rest of the menu though, so he lays it face up and sideways on the table so that they might both be able to look at it if they choose.

Brenna leans closer when Timo turns the menu, cocking her head so that she can read a bit easier. “Hmm. Traditional Herdbeast Chili… I’m actually not the biggest fan of herdbeast, which Papa thinks is absolutely scandalous,” she notes with an amused roll of her eyes. “Creamy Wherry with…Apples and Sweet Tubers?” This one, she makes an intrigued face at and sits back a little. “Might go well with this.” She sips at her cider and gives an approving nod before glancing back at the menu and taking a quick survey of the rest. In the end, however, that one is what she keeps coming back to. “I think that’ll be the one for me tonight.” Though she watches Timo after making her choice, interested to see what he’ll pick.

Timo skims over the options Brenna listed and on to the next. “Look, there’s a whersport chili too, and an avian chowder, spicy porcine chili…” That catches his eye. “I think I’ll have the spicy chili.” It’ll go well with his ale and his appetite. “So, not that I’m judging, but what have you got against herdbeast?” Timo eats it anytime he can get it. One can only take so much of goat, porcine and avian sometimes.

Brenna gives a little grin as Timo makes his choice. “Going for extra-warm, aye?” she says, and sits back fully, sipping her cider. His question has her chuckling and shaking her head. “It’s always upset my stomach somehow,” is her chagrined reply. “I’m fine if it’s in a sausage or something, but not by itself. Which makes me sad, since I do like the taste. But it’s not worth the discomfort.” Everyone’s got something. So really, she has nothing against herdbeast, but it has something against her! “Do you have a favorite food?” she wants to know, just for the sake of learning something new about him.

Timo nods. “Aye, I’ve always been particularly fond of a little kick in my food.” He grins. “Keeps things interesting.” He looks sympathetic when Brenna talks of herdbeast upsetting her stomach. “That is a shame, there’s good eating in herdbeast.” As to Timo having a favorite food, he ponders on that for a moment. “I suppose anything with the proper amount of peppers in it. I like spicy food, it’s too hard to pick a favorite.” He chuckles and looks at Brenna. “How about you?”

“I know,” Brenna says of the herdbeast, a mournful note to her tone. Timo’s answer garners a surprised hike of gently-angled brows. “Wow. So it’s not just a now-and-then thing for you, huh? I’ve actually never met anyone who could do spicy food on a regular basis.” Not even among the Reika, which is surprising, now that she thinks about it. Then it’s her turn to ponder her own reply, and she ends up smirking. “I have a definite sweet tooth,” she confesses, leaning forward to fold her arms upon the table, “but at least this one isn’t all fattening. Sweet tuber and fingerroot casserole. Especially if we manage to get mallows to bake on top of them.”

Timo shakes his head. “No, not just a once in awhile thing, that’s for sure.” Timo grins when Brenna talks of having a sweet tooth and he rumbles with appreciation at her pick in favorite foods. “That’s a good one for sure. Has my mouth watering thinking about it.” Timo grabs for another drink of his ale, watching Brenna over the rim as he does so. He goes a bit quiet as he studies her, as if wondering what to ask her next, and perhaps he is.

Brenna certainly appreciates the fact that Timo has a sweet tooth of his own to counteract the spicy, grinning when her answer brings forth that rumble. “Maybe that’s another reason I picked that stew,” she speculates. And if Timo is wondering what to ask her next, he won’t have to wait for long; the server returns to take their orders, and she promptly voices hers, also asking for a little appetizer of cheese and dried fruit. Not that it will take their food long to get there, simple as it is.

Timo gives his order as well, ordering a second of Brenna’s appetizer. And as soon as the waiter is gone he turns back to Brenna. “So, besides fixing wagons, what is it you enjoy Brenna?” He seems more sociable tonight than usual, but he finds himself intrigued. Besides, when she talks it gives him time to watch the way she moves, and to listen to her voice, which he finds quite enjoyable.

“Well…” Brenna looks down at her hands, not out of embarrassment, but as a point of focus. Glancing back up at Timo, she smirks gently, giving a flourish of her fingers. “I guess I’m a little like you in the sense that I like working with my hands. I’m also a joiner, which means a can do more intricate carpentry. A lot of times I find that sort of work very relaxing.” Hazel hues go a bit vague as she thinks on some examples of what she’s done before. “Carving headboards for wealthier clients, or for children’s cradles… Trinket boxes, cabinets, planks for storefronts or merchants’ stalls…” She focuses on the grain of the table between their glasses, reaching forward to trace it with a fingertip. “Sometimes, when I have time, I just like to take a piece of wood and see what might jump out at me from it. Like this… I can see the edge of a riverbank, water below. So I’d carve it out, add in some trees above… Make a forest scene of it, oil and maybe varnish it, sell it and see who might want something like that. Pictures made from wood.” Her fingertips come to rest on a knot as she glances back up at Timo with a little smile. “I get teased that it’s still work a lot. But I can feel the difference between the two.”

“An artist in your own fashion then, that’s admirable. I’ve always admired people who could see the pictures in things and put them to hide or canvas. Though, I suppose I do much the same thing with clothing, it’s still not quite the same.” Timo had always liked seeing that one Igenite artist who used to buy pigments from the Zingari paint after, it had been quite the sight. “And as long as you enjoy what you are doing, who’s to say it’s work?” It’s not like Timo doesn’t have a chest at home full of design hopefuls…oh no. He takes another sip of his ale and leans back in his seat, comfortable in present company and thoroughly enjoying himself.

“And that’s exactly my point,” Brenna says with a tap of her finger on the tabletop, the short nail of it clicking lightly against the oiled wood. “How is it for you, Timo? Do you see your next outfit in a color, a fabric, maybe a person? All of it at once?” She’d never really thought about how clothes might be conceived, but now that they’re speaking of their respective passions, she finds herself quite curious.

Timo thinks about that one a minute, but he has an answer quicker than he’d thought he would have. “I take my inspiration from the world around us, be it the first bloom opening in a desert oasis, or a dancer moving wildly around the fire in the night, or the crystal blue of the crater lake when the surface is still enough to be a mirror for the sky. Sometimes, I start with only a color palette in mind, sometimes the idea springs fully formed. It depends on the day I guess.” And that is the most words in one go than most people get out of this quiet Zingari weaver, but he is passionate when he speaks. Fabric is his life, day in and day out and he takes pride in his work.

Brenna’s smile blossoms slowly as Timotin answers, an image forming in her mind easily with each inspiration he names. “To be able to see inside your head when your ideas form…” she murmurs…and then their food is arriving, and she straightens and sits back a bit to clear the way for the server, who is soon departing once more. Her stew looks and smells so incredibly appetizing that her stomach gives an audible growl, prompting a sheepishly amused chuckle. “I guess that’s a sign that we’d best not waste any time,” she quips, unrolling her napkin to drop upon her lap and retrieving her spoon.

Timo gives a light hearted shrug. “I’m afraid you might find it an odd and confusing place were you to see it.” And it’s true, Timo seems to think very abstractly, the inside of his mind would probably (from the real world looking in), look something much like a Picasso or Salvador Dali painting. The food arrives and smells absolutely delicious. He doesn’t judge Brenna’s growling stomach because his is doing much the same. “Best not…” He agrees and prepares to eat, his nose hovering over his bowl a bit as he gets the scent of the food. Yum!

Brenna simply chuckles at that; it likely wouldn’t be any less confusing in her own head, were her thoughts observable while working on wood. Working on wheels, however is pretty straightforward…but who would want to look in on that? She grins as she watches Timo catching the scent of his own bowl of sustenance before digging in - carefully at first, to make sure it’s cool enough. She’s apparently quite hungry, because it doesn’t take her long to drain the bowl…not that she scarfs it. Soon she’s down to sipping the rest of her cider and nibbling cheese and fruit. “Well, I’m pretty happy with that choice,” she declares with a satisfied sigh. “Was the kick in yours enough for you?”

Timo can certainly appreciate a woman who knows how to tuck in and eat, quickly does not necessarily mean scarfing. He tucks into his own food at a good pace, the spice in the food enjoyable, if just short of perfect. When he’s done, he kicks back and enjoys some of his ale, nodding when Brenna asks after his food. “It was good, though I may point the cook towards the caravans for some spices…I think he or she would do well with them.” Because Timo is helpful like that. When someone comes to clear their plates, Timo orders another ale. “This is a good choice, I think I may come here more often.” Sometimes it’s good to get a break from caravan food.

“Even the best places can never quite cook like home,” Brenna observes amusedly. Breaks from caravan food are nice now and then, though usually prove to be good reminders of just how unique their own fare is. “But if you can get this place buying from the Zingari…it’ll be good for business all around.” Better spices in every meal for the Inn to receive accolades for, and good business for the caravan - something they’ve both caught onto, naturally! “I think I may do the same. I like the feel of the place, too,” she says, peering around admiringly as she finishes her cider. A few quiet moments pass before she gives him a quizzical little tilt of her head. “Care to walk a bit of it off?” The night is calm and not too cold yet, though with a bit of a stroll, it may never feel much colder.

“This is true…” Timo comments of the best places not cooking like home. He also nods when Brenna brings up what good business trade between the inn and the caravan would bring for everyone. Timotin can certainly appreciate someone who has a level head for the business side of things. Mention of a walk has the Zingari weaver nodding and trying to finish off his second ale. “Yes. That sounds perfect.” He waves the waiter down and pays for the meal and drinks. “Shall we then?” He offers his arm for Brenna to take, ever the gentleman.

Brenna nearly protests Timotin’s paying for the entirety of their meal, but isn’t afforded any time to. She instead takes that moment to drape her winter shawl around her shoulders, a big, warm, woolen thing that manages to straddle the line between elegant and rustic in varying hues of Reika green and brown. “We shall,” she counters with an appreciative smile for the offer of his arm, slipping hers easily into his as they make their way to the door and out into the chill-edged night.

Timo snags his jacket as they walk out, but leaves it off as they walk outside. He’s considerably warmed by both his meal and the ale and the cool desert air feels nice. “So Ms Brenna, where would you like to walk? We could tour the lake, or the bazaar?” Timo is willing to amble along anywhere, he’s enjoying Brenna’s company. And he’s even a bit more relaxed and chatty after those ales.

There’s even moonslight there to make the night-cloaked world easier to see. It couldn’t really be more perfect! Well, it could, but it’s perfect for the moment, at least. “I’ve seen enough of the Bazaar,” Brenna says frankly, giving a little shake of her head. “But the lake out here isn’t somewhere I’ve been a lot…” And it’s within fair walking distance of the Inn, so a good destination. So she’ll walk with him easily, enjoying him and the quiet for a moment before peering up at him curiously, lips lightly pressed together as she considers whether or not she’s actually going to voice what’s at the front of her mind. “May I ask you something a bit…personal, Timo? You don’t have to answer; it’s just something I’ve wondered.”

The lake it is then! Timo is quite comfortable in the silence that follows, inwardly very pleased to have Brenna on his arm. He looks at her when she voices her query and blue eyes twinkle as he chuckles. “Sure.” Inwardly, he's a little anxious at what she might have to ask, but he listens anyway, both curious and not wanting to seem standoffish.

Taking the chuckling as reassurance, Brenna quietly takes a slow breath in and out. “Well…I’ve just been curious why you’re…alone,” she tells him, peering up at Timo cautiously. “From what I can tell, someone ought to be so lucky.” And yet there are any number of reasons he would be without a companion. She just hopes she hasn’t overstepped by asking.

That is a personal one and Timo is really quiet while he ponders how to answer, muscles tensing just a little. Finally, he opts for a version of the truth, or at least it's the least hurtful way to say it. “After my wife died, I didn't see the point. I was young when I was married, to a girl I'd been betrothed to since we could walk, and who I'd met a few times, but not many. And almost as soon as I was a husband, I was a widower, with graves to dig and barely old enough to fully understand why life could be so cruel.” He shrugs, sighing heavily. “Because I'd been wed once already, I was not bothered by my mother or the elders to wed again… so I didn't.”

Quiet is traded for quiet with Timotin’s reply, the happy energy Brenna had been so easily cultivating now covered over with a somber stillness. He mentions “graves” and automatically ventures a few guesses as to what that could mean, but ultimately decides not to dwell on that too much. It’s something else that takes up her thoughts now - guilt. “Faranth… Timo, I’m so sorry,” she murmurs, shaking her head and loosening her hold on his arm contritely, though not letting it go fully. “And here I’ve been coming on like a wagon downhill…” At least that’s how she feels after getting her answer, not having even considered such a thing might be the case.

Timo shakes his head and pats the arm entwined with his. “Don’t feel bad about it. You wouldn’t be the first to comment on or wonder about my bachelor status.” The weaver chuckles a bit softly. “It was a long time ago. An old wound long healed. The other reason is I’m quiet, keep my own council most times and I’m devoted to my cousin’s cause and wed to my work, it seems like. Most women don’t like a man who won’t talk and who spends more time behind a needle than under the sheets.” Timo gives a wink to Brenna then and chuckles, any melancholy he might have felt evaporating pretty quickly.

Brenna looks back up at Timo when he pats her arm, relaxing a bit with his reassurance. “There’s something to be said for comfortable silences. Especially when they can be shared,” she notes. “Devotion to work, to…whatever you find being true to yourself to be, isn’t wrong in the least. No one should try to change that in a person, certainly.” His last makes her blush a bit, the glint in her eyes returning along with a tilted smile. “Hopefully you’d take some time for that every once in a while.” Needs are needs, after all, though she’s no stranger to simply going without for long stretches herself.

Timo has a wide smile for Brenna at her first, bonus points for understanding. Her blush is endearing and lovely in the pale light of the moons. Her last earns her a chuckle and a bit of a blush from Timo. “Not as often as some would think.” It’s been turns for this weaver, but he’s the involved type. Affairs never truly held any appeal for him.

Brenna can’t help but be charmed by Timotin’s blush in turn, her fingers squeezing his arm a bit as she unconsciously ends up walking a bit closer. “No…it makes sense for you, I think. Taking your time to decide who you want, devoting your full focus, or what you can spare of it, anyway. But…it sounds like it’s not something you’ve really considered for a long time.” There’s a question beneath the statement; it’s what she’s gathered, but she doesn’t want to simply assume.

“Aye, you've got the right of it there. I'm a man who puts his all into something, If I'm in it, I'm in it.” He strolls along and shakes his head at Brenna’s last. “I haven't…it's been quite some time.” And he's not turning down the idea of it either, but Timo is a man of few words and figures that doesn't need explaining. Maybe it does, but he is a man after all, and some things go without saying for men, and sometimes a woman doesn't like that so much. But again, Timo doesn't seem worried, Brenna doesn't seem put off by his tendency to be quiet.

Brenna isn’t put off, no, but she is still trying to figure out how to navigate it. Timo’s brand of quietude is a bit different from hers, and she’s working on a balance, not wanting to seem too forward or pressing. She walks with him quietly for a few moments longer before venturing a careful glance up at him. “Would you? Consider it again?”

Brenna's next set of questions startles Timo into laughter, looking at Brenna as they walk along. “I would. Were it with the right person. I'm not a complete hermit.” He drops a wink at the Reika woman and looks out onto the still, moonlit waters of the lake. It's really a beautiful sight, particularly when one notices that each moon is reflected perfectly in the mirror smooth surface. He's just an old fashioned gentleman really.

Brenna answers Timo’s wink with a slight blush and a lopsided smile, though inwardly she’s much less placid. Even the sight of the moons mirrored on the lake’s surface doesn’t still her misgivings. She wonders if the possibility of her being the weaver’s “right person” exists, particularly after being so bold. She likes the thought, but feels an ache that she interprets as false hope. No, she thinks, she is probably too much, too quick and too forward. Shells, she’s never been good at this. Perhaps it’s why she’s been single herself for so long, and why she might be destined to remain so for the rest of her days…
She gives an abrupt little shake of her head, all of these doubts flickering through her mind in the span of a mere second. She’s not very good at masking it, either, her lower lip ending up slightly caught in her teeth before she catches herself. Who would have thought she was so secretly insecure? She doesn’t know if Timo spots it but doesn’t look up to check, either. “It really is breathtaking,” she notes softly instead, trying to make herself focus on what’s before her rather than overthinking. “When you take the time to simply see it.”

Timo might catch a glimpse of that doubt in Brenna’s features, and he’ll slightly tighten his arm in response, hoping to comfort. TImo moves at the speed of snails, Brenna might have to be patient with him. “It really is…” He says in response. He stares for a moment more, letting the beauty of the scene seep into his brain. There’s a spark of inspiration beginning to bloom, but he ignores it for now, it’ll be there later. He gathers up some courage and turns toward Brenna. “Y’know, you’re pretty breathtaking yourself.” He tilts a roguish smile in her direction, face half in and out of shadow.

Brenna does chance a look at Timo in the ensuing silence, remember what he’d said earlier about gathering inspiration from what’s around him at times and wondering if that’s what’s happening here. Taking in the scene again herself, she absorbs the moon-silvered colors, the layers of shadows, trying to imagine how they might be worn…and smirking a little to herself when she quickly realizes it’s much better to leave that sort of imagining to the weaver.
When he turns toward her, she automatically moves in kind, meeting his eyes before he gives his compliment. Feeling her cheeks heat subtly, she lets her gaze drop again, giving a little grin. “Thank you, Timo,” she murmurs, peering back up at him, studying the play of light and shadow across his features. “I… I think you are, too.” She wishes she could be more eloquent about it, but simplicity is sometimes best. It’s just the truth.

Timotin is often all about those moments in life where things just seem to click into place, or it seems right despite all else, and it feels like one of those moments is building now. He moves in a bit closer, blue eyes roaming over Brenna’s face and the way the light plays on her features. That blush is quite endearing and he raises a hand to brush curled knuckles across the softness of her cheek. “I find, Ms Brenna, that I would very much like to kiss you.” After all, a kiss isn’t too far, too fast, right? He hopes not.

The flurry of doubts and misgivings Brenna had been entertaining mere moments before suddenly vanish like breath upon winter air when Timotin comes closer, the touch of his knuckles against her cheek making her stomach flutter. She meets his eyes without demurity now, but there is a softness there, a hopeful anticipation stemming from his words. “I would very much like that,” she murmurs, shifting slightly closer herself, a hand lifting to settle fingertips lightly against his stomach in the space between them.

Oh good! The relief at her consent is near palpable before Timo gathers Brenna up in his arms and plies her with a sweet press of the lips that is both respectfully timid and a plea to accept more. He’s very much a consent sort of man, he’ll never push anything farther than what he’s been given the greenlight for. However, one arm does wrap firmly around Brenna’s waist while the other lifts his hand to cup the cheek he’d just brushed.
And it really does seem inspiration strikes anywhere, and everywhere for the Weaver, because that small spark from before blooms into a raging fire, leaving the pattern branded across the depths of TImo’s mind, and he knows just who the pattern is for.

It might be a safe bet that Brenna has never been asked about being kissed; the act has just usually been initiated and (usually) enjoyed. But the fact that Timo asks is unsurprising…and makes the moment all the more memorable. She gasps softly to feel the enfolding of his arms but finds herself relaxing into them almost immediately, eyelids fluttering nearly fully shut with the touch of his lips. She can feel what’s held back, what is asked in the timid sweetness of it, and lifts her arms to encircle his neck, one hand coming to rest against his jaw as she lets her lips gently meld more fully to his. She likes how it feels to kiss him, to be kissed after so many Turns without it, and accepting more feels as effortless and natural as breathing.

It does indeed feel good to have this sort of contact and when Timo feels Brenna ready to accept more, he deepens the kiss, tilting his hand to do so. He explores her slowly and sweetly, his arm holding her firm while his thumb strokes her cheek. Eventually however, the need to breathe will outpower the want to keep such sweet contact flowing and he parts the kiss with a half heated rumble. “You taste of sunlight and cider…” He comments, voice a husky timbre. “I think I ought take you home before I make an inappropriate suggestion.” Because that, would be too far too fast.

Brenna sighs into the kiss, becoming pliant in Timo’s embrace as she soaks up the heady pleasure of the deepening of it. She doesn’t want the moment to end, letting herself be so sweetly explored and answering in kind. Her fingers start to sift into his hair, playing at his nape when the break for breath happens. His comment earns a small, warm grin, a breathless chuckle leaving her at his last. “I could probably make the same suggestion…but I think you’re right,” she agrees. The last thing she wants to do is ruin a beautiful start to things by moving too quickly. She’s slow to pull away from him though, loath to give up the warmth of his arms.

Timo is loathe to give up the embrace too, but he is ever the gentleman and follows up on his offer to take Brenna home, enjoying the trip back to the Weyr quite a lot. He's finding he likes the blossoming interest he has in Brenna and she is now responsible for the inspired piece of clothing working its way through Timo’s mind. All in all it's a perfectly pleasant end to a quite enjoyable evening.

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