Lofty Living

11: An Odd Yet Cute Secret

     Jorund finds himself back at home, nestled comfortably in Florence's lap, the loft sitting on the couch while she is sketching. He is leaning up against her body, finding the loft to be a very comfortable place to rest. While listening to her sketch, the sound of the charcoal meeting with the pages of her book, his mind is playing through today's events.

     Florence and Abigail had spent just about the entire day together. The two sisters catching up and swapping stories for hours on end. Jorund was listening to the two of them talk, having nothing better to do. If he wasn't sitting in the pocket which his wife carried him in, he was in her embrace. This isn't necessarily a bad thing; he loves being close to her and she shows him plenty of affection, but one can only remain idle for so long.

       Jorund did find some entertainment with the stories that were being swapped. Abigail even reminisced on Florence's childhood, picking up on Jorund's boredom. This included several stories that his mate found to be very embarrassing and she pleaded for her sister to stop. One story he had a difficult time believing was an altercation Florence had gotten into with her mother, she had ruined the meal her mother was preparing by dumping an assortment of seasonings into it. He had to admire her resolve for the punishment she endured but laughed slightly at what got her to back down.

     When Florence did have to make a quick run to the bathroom, she left Jorund with her sister. Jorund was quick to notice how gentle she was when compared to her younger sister. While he did appreciate how careful she was with him, it did feel off to him. When the two of them were alone, she confronted the vuln about his lie to Florence, the lie where he said he enjoys Florence's cooking. Instead of lecturing him and forcing him to tell his mate the truth, Abigail thanked him for making the claim and that she appreciates what he is doing for her.

     As the day began to come to an end, Abigail had stated her intent to stay at the local inn for the night before catching her next train early in the morning. Florence was quick to invite her sister to stay for the night. Not only would it save her money, but it would allow them to spend more time together. Abigail had politely refused her sister's offer, saying that her home was too small for a large loft such as herself. She did not feel like dealing with the low ceilings and ducking through the doorways of her sister's small house.

     "Are you looking forward to meeting my parents tomorrow?"

     The sound of Florence's voice pulls Jorund back to the present. He looks up at his wife's smiling face, eager to hear his answer. "Of course," he answers simply. He has never met a loft family, but he can imagine that it wouldn't be that much different from a typical human family. While his father-in-law would be the same size as him, his mother-in-law would tower over him much like Florence does.

      "Well, Mumsy is looking forward to meeting you. I have told her all about you in the letter I sent her and she is excited to meet you." Florence smiles, feeling like she is beginning to brag about her mate, and she essentially is. The only thing that would cause her smile to spread ear to ear is if another loft was listening to her. "I told her how sweet you are and how you love to cuddle with me. Most vulns look for some independence and alone time, but not you. You seem to be very happy being near me just waiting for me to show my affection for you."

     Jorund is doing his best to listen to his wife, but he catches some movement out the corner of his eyes. He turns his head to look at the source of the motion he picked up on to find a pair of distractions.

      Florence had propped her feet up on the coffee table. The movement he had noticed is her curling her toes, a subconscious movement from her excitement. He is only half hearing his wife as his eyes become fixated on what he considers to be a lovely view. A pair of beautiful feet. He is watching how her feet are swaying side to side, only stopping for a moment when she crosses her ankles. He begins to fantasize about the foot massage he will be giving her the next day they both work, the only time when he can be near her feet without her being wise about his love for the female foot.