[Well, if he doesn't want the bottle... Hythlodaeus will keep hold of it, resting it against his thigh rather than trying to move to give it back to Hades again. He's so cute like this, though he's sure the other man would be disgruntled to hear himself described in such a way, and the way he settles as Hythlodaeus finds a comfortable position is cute as well.
He lets his head rest back as he listens to Hades' voice by his ear, feeling the way his heart gently swells with the simple tone and cadence of it regardless of the words being said, and he utters the softest chuckle at the questions sent his way.]
I speak to a thespian and poet, do I not? A veritable master of words. [Hythlodaeus smiles and although Hades would not be able to see it, the expression is clear enough in the warmth of his voice.] Paint me a picture with them, dear heart, and I will hear no excuses that you are incapable. I know it not to be so.
[Hades doesn't need to see it. The fondness in Hythlodaeus's voice is as effective as a lamp guiding him in. He nestles closer, his chin resting atop the crown of his head - a present, if considered weight. Tipsy though he is, it isn't his intention to smother Hythlodaeus. Not yet, at least - and not in this particular way.]
[He lets out a low breath. Of course he'd make such demands now, when he's too worn down to refuse him... Not that he particularly wants to, in this case.]
Before your silken tresses, the wisteria weep with jealousy.
Their blooms liquify and runneth down to pool like a fragrant lake about thine feet. Mine heart pays tribute. And when - inevitably - the clear bells that signal thine amusement appeal to the air, the songbirds fall silent to listen.
[Hades traces Hythlodaeus's sleeve with careful fingers, seeking out the warmth of his hand to tuck into his.]
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2024-12-08 02:30 am (UTC)He lets his head rest back as he listens to Hades' voice by his ear, feeling the way his heart gently swells with the simple tone and cadence of it regardless of the words being said, and he utters the softest chuckle at the questions sent his way.]
I speak to a thespian and poet, do I not? A veritable master of words. [Hythlodaeus smiles and although Hades would not be able to see it, the expression is clear enough in the warmth of his voice.] Paint me a picture with them, dear heart, and I will hear no excuses that you are incapable. I know it not to be so.
no subject
Date: 2024-12-31 08:24 pm (UTC)[Hades doesn't need to see it. The fondness in Hythlodaeus's voice is as effective as a lamp guiding him in. He nestles closer, his chin resting atop the crown of his head - a present, if considered weight. Tipsy though he is, it isn't his intention to smother Hythlodaeus. Not yet, at least - and not in this particular way.]
[He lets out a low breath. Of course he'd make such demands now, when he's too worn down to refuse him... Not that he particularly wants to, in this case.]
Before your silken tresses, the wisteria weep with jealousy.
Their blooms liquify and runneth down to pool like a fragrant lake about thine feet. Mine heart pays tribute. And when - inevitably - the clear bells that signal thine amusement appeal to the air, the songbirds fall silent to listen.
[Hades traces Hythlodaeus's sleeve with careful fingers, seeking out the warmth of his hand to tuck into his.]