Jareth likes to cultivate the illusion that he doesn't sit around all day waiting for Ali to do something interesting, watching her every move for opportunities, for clues to the workings of her mind, for sheer aesthetic appreciation. It's a facade he crafts and maintains with care, although it is fragile.
It is also doomed, in light of her invitation. In a twinkling (really, there's no better descriptor for that particular combination of alacrity and glitter), he stands behind her, leaning over her to plant a kiss in her hair, reaching around her to rest his hand on hers. "The only impediment," he purrs, "has just evaporated."
The kiss, which she likes to imagine is tender and affectionate without attempting to be a prelude to anything, wins him a broader smile and an echoing kiss on his hand. "Well, one never knows when there'll be some pressing matter of state you must attend. Thank you for coming, darling. Come sit with me, we can keep each other warm."
"Your offer grows more appealing by the moment," he purrs, fitting her word to his deed in one fluid motion. "To what do I owe this unparalleled delight?"
Ali delays answering until he has his coffee and an arm around her. "I wanted to see you," she answers simply. "I didn't think I needed more of a reason than that."
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It is also doomed, in light of her invitation. In a twinkling (really, there's no better descriptor for that particular combination of alacrity and glitter), he stands behind her, leaning over her to plant a kiss in her hair, reaching around her to rest his hand on hers. "The only impediment," he purrs, "has just evaporated."
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