OPEN

[salvatore_underfoot]

WHO: Salvatore and You
WHAT: Sal does research on Western Approach
WHEN: Before departure
WHERE: Library
NOTES: Two dorks being dumb at each other

He’d only ever read about the Western Approach, and then, not much. Vaguely. He knew it was an expanse of arid land located in Orlais. If he was going to spend the next few weeks there, he wanted to learn as much about it as he could.

That is why one might find him the library, huddled under a window for light and swamped by piles of books and scrolls, many open, as if he could read them all simultaneously. He’s got an inkwell balanced on his knee and a book for note-taking beside him. He stops reading to jot something down, then scratches at his nose with the quill still in his hand. A splotch of black is left on his nose, but he doesn't notice.

No one else in the room exists.

Comments

[salvatore_underfoot]

Laughter is good, even if it is at his socks. It's especially good to see on Alayre, who puts on a serious face far too often. It makes Sal feel ... well. He doesn't want to explore that.

His face falls. He doesn't exactly have access to - or working knowledge of - rich finery. He could ask around, raise the money? But there is a light. "Oh. Poetry I can do." He's come across a few books of the stuff. But also, ahem! "There once was a man from Orlais / Who wore a scowl all day / But in walked a mage / Both beautiful and sage / Kiss me or I won't go away." Too forward?

[equanimiti]

'Kiss me?'

Alayre eyes the man before him awkwardly after that little demonstration of his lyrical prowess. While it wasn't the most in depth or well made poem, it brought a rare smile to Alayre's face. Typically somber and usually too serious for his own good, it takes much to make the Templar smile. That's why Alayre is grinning at him now as he leans forward ever so slightly to award Salvatore with a kiss.

"A lovely try but I do not wish you to go away." He whispers before boldly pressing his lips against Salvatore's. Everything about Alayre is quite stern and a little callous but his are quite soft.

[salvatore_underfoot]

Excuse you. It was a brilliant poem for being made up on the spot. And look what it accomplished.

Salvatore sighs into the kiss, lips chapped from worrying them when he reads and studies and trains. He pulls back with a grin of his own. "I won't leave right this moment." Though he would have to leave, and soon, and for a long time.

[equanimiti]

It's simply amazing how this crummy poem has Salvatore locking lips with a Templar, a Knight-Commander at that. Maybe the mage actually has some skill or maybe he's just lucky. Alayre doesn't make it a habit to show affection like this, especially not in the form of a kiss. He pulls away briefly once Salvatore mumbles something.

"How true. I suppose I better take advantage of our limited time together." Alayre whispers as he seeks out another kiss. Salvatore's lips feels a tad rough against his but not unpleasant. It's something for him to get used to.

Eventually someone is going to spot the two making out in the library if they keep going on like this. Not eager to have rumors swarm about regarding himself and Salvatore, Alayre reluctantly pulls away again. "Forgive me for being too forward, Salvatore." He says with a slight sigh. "The temptation was far too great but I don't regret giving in." Alayre smirks somewhat.

[salvatore_underfoot]

It was not a crummy poem. He's going to write it down in fancy calligraphy and frame it and sneak into Alayre's office and hang it on the wall before he leaves.

He's past the point of caring if they're caught. He accepts the second kiss as readily as the first. Though he scoffs good-naturedly at Alayre taking the credit. It was his limerick that put things in motion. "You should try being forward more often. I was beginning to wonder if you even actually interested."

[equanimiti]

While Alayre wouldn't exactly let that sad little poem hang on his office walls, he certainly would keep it hidden under rows of books at the bookshelf. So upon Salvatore's return, the mage will have to search for his piece of poetry to hang again upon the wall.

A sigh leaves the Templar as Salvatore mentions his lack of forwardness. "What can I truly say? I've always been a tad--" He pauses momentarily as he struggles to find the right word. "I suppose 'timid' shall do. I haven't had much opportunities to enjoy the comfort of another." Alayre is a Templar after all.

[salvatore_underfoot]

Recalling how Alayre had blushed during their conversation in the tent, Sal doesn't doubt that one bit. Opportunities for company were not hard to come by in the Circle. But, given what happened to most of those former lovers and friends he'd rather not look back on it.

"Is that what all the gifts were for? Because you're timid?"

[equanimiti]

Alayre smiles ever so slightly and nods. What can he really say? He can't exactly deny his somewhat bashful trait even though he wishes to do just that. "I suppose so." He replies honestly as he brushes his hair away from his eyes. Those silvery-gray strands always get in the way but he refuses to cut it anytime soon. Not everyone looks good in the standard crew cut the Templar typically wear.

"I've been trying to win your attention for some time now." His smile widens a tad. "I just didn't know what to do or how to do it. Therefore, I settled on showering you with gifts."

[salvatore_underfoot]

"Alayre..." Eyes shining, Salvatore shakes his head. Something warms inside him. That someone would go to that kind of trouble... No one has ever expressed their interest in him quite like this before. "You already had my attention."

There's also a small wiggle of trepidation in the pit of his stomach. He distracts it by gathering up the books strewn around them.

[equanimiti]

"I did..?"

A hint of surprise lingers within Alayre's eyes as he stares at Salvatore with such wonder. "Truly?" He questions again once Salvatore starts gathering his belongings. Alayre of course leans in to assist but suddenly he reaches for the mage's hand instead.

"You mean to tell this fool of a man that you've already had your eyes set upon him?" A chuckle escapes him as he brushes his fingers lightly over Salvatore's knuckles.

"Oh, do tell."

[salvatore_underfoot]

Laughter bubbles up at Alayre's surprise. Sal gives up on collecting his books. One of his hands has has been claimed, anyway. "Truly. I thought it was obvious."

He turns his hand over so his palm presses against Alayre's, tangles their fingers together. "I'm not going to embarrass myself and give you details. Use your imagination."