It's those little things that Templars like to brag that mages know nothing about when they're taken care of in the Circle, as if keeping mages as helpless as possible is a good thing. When Christine and the others fled to Andoral's Reach, they were running for their lives and survival was at the front of everyone's mind. But when they arrived there and regrouped, the Loyalists among them brought up the fact that mages have no idea how to take care of themselves. And that's when the in-fighting began. If only they had stopped shouting and listened to reason. They could take care of themselves because it was necessary to do so. In Christine's case, it helps that she's extremely practical. She sees a problem that needs a solution, and she finds it. She doesn't rush off whining to people to do things for her. Even if she was that type, her pride wouldn't let her.
And this house is perfect for them. It's not too big and doesn't have a lot of space that needs filled up. It just needs the particulars. A few more dishes, cookware, chairs, and homey touches, and they'll be ready to entertain one or two guests for dinner.
Christine laughs when he hugs her, hands flattened to his chest. "Church!" she says, in that pseudo-protesting tone that he knows full well to ignore. It's simply her way to put on a little show, pretending he's expressing too much when they both know she adores it just as much as he does. "I take it stupid pretty is a compliment, yes?" Her lips quirk in a smirk, because she would never tolerate being called stupid if he was using that word in its original form.
She scritches Ponce under the chin with her fingernails, and the scene of perfect domesticity is almost overwhelming. Christine is so incredibly happy right now. Now matter what the future holds, she will remember this moment forever.
"I like to think I have broken him of the pampered expectations he had from my mother, but I am afraid I only instilled new ones in him. But look at this face." Look at it, Church. How could you look at it and not want to snuggle him forever?
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And this house is perfect for them. It's not too big and doesn't have a lot of space that needs filled up. It just needs the particulars. A few more dishes, cookware, chairs, and homey touches, and they'll be ready to entertain one or two guests for dinner.
Christine laughs when he hugs her, hands flattened to his chest. "Church!" she says, in that pseudo-protesting tone that he knows full well to ignore. It's simply her way to put on a little show, pretending he's expressing too much when they both know she adores it just as much as he does. "I take it stupid pretty is a compliment, yes?" Her lips quirk in a smirk, because she would never tolerate being called stupid if he was using that word in its original form.
She scritches Ponce under the chin with her fingernails, and the scene of perfect domesticity is almost overwhelming. Christine is so incredibly happy right now. Now matter what the future holds, she will remember this moment forever.
"I like to think I have broken him of the pampered expectations he had from my mother, but I am afraid I only instilled new ones in him. But look at this face." Look at it, Church. How could you look at it and not want to snuggle him forever?