Manning Thorsen believes in (othala) wrote in repose,
Re: Home: Iris and Manning
There had been a time when he was aware of how fragile she thought she was. In some ways she had been fragile, her firmament made of wet cardboard instead of stone. And he'd gotten to watch as stone grew under her, as her feet found that mooring and her fragility was replaced with a strength borne only of her. She might say that it was his strength, but Manning knew that it came from simply being allowed to be. To have that room to grow and still be found appealing.
And she was. Even pale, even as her body grew from waif to healthy to fecund with their children -- his eyes still lingered almost as much as his hands did. Only in the past few weeks -- it had been more. And then there was this, the mention of marriage from her when he had been waiting for years to hear something. Anything. It was dropped into casual conversation like a gift from the Gods and he -- he wanted it.
His steps were slow and determined as he strode across the living room, hand reaching out to her in those last few steps and drawing her close. She was warm against him, heavier in a way that made him lean down and nuzzle at her throat, the tip of his nose pushing the hair back from her neck. "Hi," he murmured, low as he made his way from her throat, across her chin and jaw to kiss her lightly.