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[her touch might cut through that without realizing it; she nudges him along once he’s got his jacket hung up, over to plop down on the couch. the prospect of being able to do him some real good beyond being a ferry of sorts lifts her spirits.]

Here, sit on the edge here! Let me...scoot back...here... [she climbs onto the cushion behind him, keeping herself propped up and balanced by hanging onto his shoulders.]

All you have to do is sit still and relax! Sounds good, right?

[It does indeed, though instead of a shock like a splash of cool water, it's more of a warm nudge back into reality. It's a couple dazed blinks as he finds himself being dragged over to the couch, and following her instructions. Sitting on the edge, as she clambers behind him, using his shoulders for balance.

He glances back at her, but then smirks.]

Heh, work your magic, yo.

[He really could use some right now... even his shoulders feel almost rock hard with tension, guess it's a good thing she's got super strength, maybe??]

Oh, it’s not magic! But I did learn a thing or two from my Aunt Lissa— she was a cleric. They know all kinds of ways to heal...

[once he’s sat and situated, Lucina takes stock, growing more pleased by the moment. this isn’t something she’d categorize as normal, but...it’s still good. certainly better than the sad state of him in the hospital. and to think! she can help more...!

with a thoughtful hum, she guides her palms along his tensed-up shoulder blades, hesitating for a beat as she’s briefly taken with a fluttering feeling. finding herself again, she gives a certain sound and, gliding her thumb over a noticeable knot, just..

pushes.

with way more force than necessary.]

[He doesn't even try to correct her, the way she jumps to converse about her aunt is pretty cute, and why would he interrupt that? In a way, it's relaxing and it gives him something to focus on other than how tense and sore he feels.

He lets out a breath, slow and relaxed, as his eyes slide closed at the sensation of her finding that knot. Anticipating relief as she begins to press and--]

Edited (phone wtf dont autocorrect shit) 2019-10-20 21:39 (UTC)

--GEHH!!

[Guzma immediately jerks forward at the force--or maybe that's the force that's doing it? Either way, he's jolting forward and seems to be SOMEWHAT TRYING TO GET AWAY FROM THOSE HANDS...

At the very least, he's bracing the coffee table with both hands to keep himself stable, because holy SHIT!!]

Fuck!! You tryin' t'kill me here?!

Ah-! Hey!!

[what the heck! is he THAT sensitive?!

tugging his collar to try and get him to sit back up.]

Of course not! You...you just must be too sensitive! I didn’t even press that hard. Come on, now...!

Sensi--your boy AIN'T sensitive!

[Fortunately since he wears muscle shirts, she's not strangling him when she grabs it and pulls him back. With great hesitancy he follows the tugging and sits up right again. With a wary glance over his shoulder at her, he...acquiesces against his better judgment.]

Just...go a li'l lighter, you don't know your own strength, yo...

Edited (I swear I know how to spell) 2019-10-20 21:51 (UTC)

[she tsks, steadying him with hands on his shoulders.]

I barely touched you, Guzma...I may as well massage you with a feather.

[she squeezes the muscle on his shoulder, testing some pressure.] Is this even too much?

[He grumbles under his breath, but as she presses, he winces a little bit, but...it's bearable.]

...Nah that's fine. That ain't so bad.

[Now that she's not going from 0 to 60 without warning...]

[right, good... she huffs a little sigh, relieved he’s not about to lose it again. with that heightened awareness to take it easy (okay, fine — maybe she does need to be more careful since she hadn’t tested a massage with super strength before...but not with that much drama!).

kneading little circles with her thumbs, she watches Guzma’s head bob a little and keeps eye for any other distress.

without the flinching, this is...quite nice, huh? his shoulders really are tense...and broad...luckily, any blushing she’s doing is safely out of view.

would this be considered a bit unseemly? even with their, ah...’arrangement’... she’s not sure, but it kind feels a bit like some bit of a thrill. maybe it shouldn’t, and she’s just strange.]

[It takes a good few moments for him to fully settle into her massaging. He's still extremely sore, and his muscles ache from exertion and toxin both, but he starts to feel some relief...which is made evident as he relaxes under her hands, and there's small grunts and satisfied hums as she works his shoulders. His head hangs forward a bit as he closes his eyes, fully relaxing into those motions.

She's not alone in enjoying this for more than merely its purpose. There's something...not quite thrilling, but certainly satisfying about having her hands on him like this. Feeling her grip him so firmly, running her fingers over his skin...

Unlike her, he doesn't feel any shame for his enjoyment, but that's the nature of the difference in their experience and perceptions. This is nothing if not perfectly normal for him, but what an alien experience for her.]

...Mmm that feels real nice, Lu.

D-does it-?

[the tone of his voice kind of takes her by surprise, her heart fluttering.] I’m glad...

[truly. after having been on a punishing end of that brutal day, it does her well to be able to sow some goodness. even if it is a bit selfish...

after some time, her hands glide up so her arms can wrap around his neck, lowering her head to rest against the back of his neck.

she’s so grateful he’s survived. that no one died. that she didn’t lose yet another chance to be honest to someone, yet even having that opportunity is daunting. it’s risky to speak her heart, even in quiet moments.

maybe if she just...sits still here. maybe, somehow, he can sense that just by her willing it to him. maybe that’s enough.]

Mhm...

[It's more of a rumble from him, than the normal hum of an answer. If anything, it helps express how much he is indeed enjoying this. When she stops, there's a small surprised grunt from him, but it dies quickly when he feels her arms wrap around his neck, and her head against the back of his.

Slowly, he brings his hands up to rest on her forearms, loosely holding them as he melts into the hold. She's incredibly warm against him, what with him still being pretty clammy...poor fortune for her, but it is what it is.

Ultimately, this moment of intimacy is a balm to his soul after everything.]

[there’s consolation for the both of them in that stretched-out length of shared quiet, where a fear of inaction is held at bay by the hold on her arms.

she can’t sit on her knees forever, and after a length she can feel her legs starting to fall asleep, so she sits up, murmuring her intention to move so as not to take him unawares. with a quiet here and some other instruction, she shifts so she can slip alongside him, her arms sliding around his middle, as if keeping clung to him was her job.]

[While he's enjoyed the weight of her on his back, he can hardly blame her for needing to adjust. He's glad, however, that she stays clinging to him, her arms around him as if she were to let go, she'd lose him.

Shifting, he puts his own arm around her, holding her as well, a measurable possessive pressure to it. Or, maybe that's just the weight of his arm and a little bit of his body as he finds himself somewhat slumping against her.

His body is pretty spent after all of this, but he had been at the factory for...quite a while digging through the ruins and inspecting this and that. Moving some of the rubble while he was at it...]

Edited (I'm straight up gonna throw myself into hell for my phone tag typos) 2019-10-20 23:19 (UTC)

[it feels nice to be tightly held...and more, to be allowed to hold on. it’s easier than speaking, even if it lacks the clarity of words backing it. some things are clear enough. she’s content to let the moment carry on and on...but it can’t last forever.

eventually, she gently pats his side where her hand had lingered.]

You ought to clean up. Change. You’ll feel better.

[and not smell like a rotted fire pit.]

[She's right, and he knows she's right, but all he wants to do is just sit there with her. Even if it feels odd to be so affectionately needy like this, but who can honestly blame him.]

...Yeah. I'm sure after bein' in the factory for as long as I was, I ain't smellin' too great.

[His senses might have adapted to the smell, but he's sure hers hasn't, not with how briefly she was there. With a parting squeeze, he stands up--slowly and gingerly. Placing his hands on his thighs to help himself rise to his full height, and not without a grunt.

He must look and sound like an old man, but there's no helping that right now.]

If y'wanna kick it here, you can. But I get it if you got more important shit to do.

[He's not saying it to sound shitty or self-deprecating, more so he's just aware she's a busy lady and...well, there's fucking zombies and ultra beasts still.]

I'll stick around for a bit.

[she sits up a bit straighter at that, smoothing her skirt out as she nods.] What little work I have to touch tonight...I can do so from here. It won't be a problem.

[and in any case, she's not ready to leave. she'd worry, leaving...and wonder if she'd missed some sign of danger in him she wasn't looking for.

while fiddling with the buckle of Falchion's shoulder-belt:] So, don't worry! I'll be here.

[There's a soft edge to his features when she says she'll hang around. It's a comfort, one he wasn't fully aware he needed, and yet here they are.]

Make yourself at home. There's—[Oh god, is there even anything in his fridge? When was he last here...?]—something in there, probably. There's beer, at least.

[Not that she's probably had that before, but he offers it all the same. With that, though, he starts up the stairs and...immediately missteps and nearly falls down them. He fortunately catches the handrail, while his other hand catches a step with a stuttered sound of surprise and a muttered curse.

IT'S FINE, HE'S FINE!! If anything, it's merely his pride that's damaged here...]

[OH.................................OKAY..............

Lucina startles at the misstep, hopping up briefly as she gawks over at him, red-faced on his behalf. she considers going over to help but...that might...be the opposite of helping...and instead sits down and pretends she didn't see that, though her red face and ears give that away plainly, so she looks pointedly elsewhere while she hears him creep up the remaining stairs. poor man...were it her, she'd be mortified, and not want anyone to speak of it, honestly. so she won't!

instead, she'll busy herself with setting Falchion up securely against the wall nearest her and settling back down to go through her Aegis-related notes and mails. with Jacob gone again, it's been a lot of scrambling to keep the back-end stuff right...and herself, trying to train herself to keep a good face up front.

she doesn't have that great an expression when next he appears, herself slumped back in the cushions with one foot resting idly on the edge of the coffee table, her mouth screwed up in a displeased pucker as she thumbs through her phone. it's a look she blinks out of as she sits up, rubbing one of her eyes.]

Aa, better? I hope? At least, hot water would've helped all that extra tension...

[Honestly, Lucina is too good for Guzma and his fragile ego. He doesn't even look over at her while he catches himself and works his way as quickly as he can up the stairs. Fortunately no other stupid missteps happen, even while in the shower. No slipping and dying today!!

Either way, when he comes back down, he's just in a pair of sweats with a towel around his shoulders, half of ir being used to rub at his still damp hair as he appraises her. It's true, the shower did wonders, even if there's still the underlying ache, but he's getting used to it almost. It's easier to ignore, at least.

Her expression when he came down, however? A lot less easier to ignore.]

Yeah, it helped. [He does a small upward nodding gesture towards her, his eyes falling to her phone.]

Everythin' cool?

Y...yeah...

[blinking out blurriness, Lucina looks Guzma up and down as he approaches, getting a bit red in the face. where did his shirt go.

she forcibly peels her eyes away to glare at her phone with more intensity than necessary, sitting upright, foot slipping off the coffee table and landing with a thud on the floor.]

Yes. That is--no...more than I expected. I'm still learning how to navigate these sorts of things...maintaining an understanding of public opinion and climate are more important than I realized. [her eyes wince.] Because I...rarely gave it much thought when it wasn't a public I could see with my own two eyes in person at any given time, I suppose...

[that's not very becoming of a princess, she figures. yet...how much training did she really get before things went belly-up in Ylisse?]

[He smirks a little, catching that reddening and how she forces herself to look away from him. She can try to hide it, but he knows, Lucina. He knows.

Stopping just before the couch and beside the coffee table, watching her as she explains. So, she's frustrated by...social media? By what the faceless masses think of her? He kinda gets it, after all, he's sorta after the opposite public opinion, but also...it's not like she can't keep up her heroic shit if people, for some bizarre reason, hated her for it.]

...So, what? You got a poor image or somethin'? I know Maurtia Falls ain't all up in you hero types, not that I can blame 'em, but what's it really matter?

I thought you weren't in this for the glory.

[It's fortunate that Guzma is the last person to give a shit about what is or isn't becoming of a princess, huh?]

[it's kind of nice that #loselucina seems to be an unknown to Guzma, but it's not something she can avoid, if the topic is of opinions...and the public-having of them.]

I'm not, of course. But completely isolating one's self from all voices...even the ones who don't wish me well...I don't think that's the right way about it.

[she peers back over his way, but only briefly. why...doesn't he have a shirt on...while discussing this.]

V-voices that mean only to do me harm and nothing more...I can't do much about that. But there may be things out there I can help with...

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