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Rolf Scamander (outofthewild) wrote in finnigans_rpg,

"Warm big fluffy towels," he said with a delighted sigh. He put his hands over his heart and looked skyward. "Oh, my dream place. All those weeks in the Serengeti, oh gods I could have used a place like that. And bath oils."

He smiled. "Give me a week or two and maybe I'll be able to show you," he said. He'd work extra hard on his balance. He'd heard of yoga in the area, and though he normally did that on his own... maybe someone had some tips? As embarrassing as it could potentially be. And maybe get in shape to spar and everything again, though that fear of hurting her might always haunt him. He protected her, more than possibly anyone in this world.

"Oh, lessee." He hmmed and waved a hand, Summoning a map (of course he had one nearby) almost absentmindedly. "Stick your finger on it somewhere, only not the middle of the ocean, pretty please with cherries on top." He gave her a winning smile over one shoulder.

"Game face is slipping," he teased, pretending to flick her nose this time. He was always handsy with her, something that had never really occurred to him until now, when he still remembered the warmth of the skin of her back on his fingers. While demonstrative with the people he cared about, he was almost doubly so with her. He'd never thought about it before. He struggled with a flush, pushing it down, and told himself to think about it later.

He chuckled at her stomach growling. "Miss grumbly tummy," he said, peering down at her under his arm. He served up the dish and grabbed some things out of the fridge, warming them slowly with the tap of a wand and dishing them out as side dishes. "Aaaaand dinner is served, my lady," he said.