"Who, my golden haired beauty, spoke a word of sitting around all day and talking? I could think of more entertaining things for us to do than that."
As she turned from him to look out the window, his large hands fell upon either side of her slender waist, chest pressing against her back. Breathing in a breath of contentment, he found himself enjoying the same view, as well still his sense of accomplishment. Of seeing this home through, and starting something new, together, with his beloved. It almost felt as good as slaying Frost Giants.
Almost.
"I ask you the same question, do you fear boredom here? Too much of your Thunderer? Will you not soon long for the run ways of Midgard, and that world of fashion I swept you out from?"
Arms slipping further around Sif, his forearms crossed over her midsection as her perched his chin on her shoulder, squeezing slightly. The real question, he supposed, was what would he do if she wished to return to that world. Somehow, he could not quite picture himself on the same runway, but perhaps.. perhaps in the audience as he had been before the confrontation he had had with Sif that had let them to this moment, and this place.
It was enough simply to be together, he decided. To be one. United.
"Long have I chosen my own path, or been set upon another by my father. Tell me, Sif, what would you have me do? What would you like us to do?"