growlithe hat

tender--age--in--plume  asked:

A satisfied hum precedes the paint being set aside. Plumeria withdraws a compact from her pocket, opening it and passing it to him to examine. She's given him thin, curling whiskers, a neon pink heart on the tip of his nose completing the look. "I know y'don’t like t'leave your spot," she sighs. "Mmm. Maybe I'll bring us a picnic when I'm ready for a break myself." Once again, she baits him with the promise of caring for herself.

The sight of his now somewhat more feline appearance, especially combined with the Growlithe-hat she made him drew an excited smile out of him.  Silly as it was to be a grown man who enjoyed such things, he thought he looked very…cute. It was like getting your face painted at a carnival, but it glowed.

He considered her offer, the idea of her getting to care for herself in the process always an appealing one that’d make him do the same. After all, she was a lot like him, even if he wouldn’t admit it. They would both overwork themselves and miss out on some kind of fun if they stuck to being stubborn, even if that fun was just between the two of them.

“As long as you let me know when you’re ready for a break.  I’ll come check on you, if I don’t hear from you.”  He nods, finally, after considering forcing her to have a break now.  Forced breaks were no breaks at all, after all.  “I appreciate it, Mistress.  Thank y–th-thanks.”

Ease himself into casual speaking. Take his time.