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So he laid there, weighing his pros and cons of the situation; Sval was drunk, or so the theory went. Wasted enough to forget in the morning? That much, Destan wasn't sure of. Thank the heavens for the dark, seeing as his features had become flushed on their own accord.



If that man called him beloved, one more damn time, Destan would drop and cry like a baby.


"Heavens, are you blind? We've taken the road less... well, taken. It will now force upon us three more minutes to get back!"






"You know, dear. I really shouldn't doubt you so much. In fact, I think it would only be courteous of me, to take you up on your previous offer." As the words leaked from his mouth, his left hand was placed on Sval's shoulder; Destan's right hand following in the same manner. Now with both hands pressed against the other's back, as one would do in a massage; the De Carmit was able to hop off the ground, and wrap his gangly legs around the other's waist. His arms crossing lightly over Sval's neck.

Yeah, like a koala.

"Seems I just might get to ride you after all."




Partaking in water olympics with clothes, was obscure. But he merely tolerated his spouse's futile barbs. The man had more mood swings than Destan thought capable ( not that he was one to talk ) "Don't be so foul over our name, dearest. You're as much a De Carmit as any, now."