my heart's on fire—anditsdefinitelynotbecauseofyou

Nairn smirked at her promise. Oh? Then that's a date. He rolled his eyes when she asked for the plans to his mech. Don't have that. You can ask the dwarves for it. I never much cared to see it broken down on paper like that. Because it reminded him of how close to death he really was.

She stated she might hit him in the morning, and he shrugged. If I have to deal with you hitting me every morning, for the rest of our lives, I can. Because you've gotta be near me to hit me. When the dinner call went off, and he watched her leave his lap, he sighed.

Maybe they should just stay here and starve—he was certain he could survive off of just her presence, if he had to. But she was up, and she helped him up, and claimed his hand.

She interlocked their fingers just outside of the mess, and she squeezed his hand. He'd return the favor. And then they entered the hall, and his grasp loosened on her hand, though he didn't pull out of her hold.

Obviously there's the old man, he gestured vaguely in John-Marc's direction. Most everyone else is new, though. He shifted to redirect their path, away from the older man he'd indicated earlier, and towards a small gaggle of children. The oldest appeared to be in their pre-teens, the youngest was about four.

These are my street rats, though his tone was serious, the smirk on his lips showed it was an affectionate name for the bunch. Show potential, but needs a bit of help. No family that'll miss 'em. Much like himself. As they arrived to the table, he shifted his weight, leaning into Meg.

Dwarves are over there, if ya wanna talk to 'em? Let me check in with these rats about their pickin's', then I'll join you? Grab a plate and a seat. He shifted his arm so that he was hugging her, a rare display of affection, before he'd released her entirely, his hand slipping from hers.