Foto bij 139. - Lucien

One of us had the sense to remove the eggs from the hob, which is great, because it takes a while for either of us to get into any kind of headspace to have breakfast. Not that it can be called breakfast anymore at 1.30 in the afternoon. Emma is walking around in my favourite outfit, which is her lingerie and a silk bathrobe I had Gabriel pack from my apartment for exactly this occassion. I'm still just in my underwear, which got me an approving look from Emma.
"You're staring, du C." She teases, moving into the kitchen.
"Fuck yes, I am." I grin, following closely behind. I stand behind her as she continues on our eggs, softly kissing and biting her neck. She hums a sound that's almost a moan.
"I'm trying to make us breakfast." She says, though her voice is strained. The premise of getting out of the house today is getting smaller and smaller, because clearly we both have a lot of energy and tension to burn through.
"It can wait a little longer." I mutter with my lips against her ear. "Fifteen minutes won't make that difference."
Emma snorts and I feel her muscles tense when I run my flat hand over her stomach. "What just happened wasn't fifteen minutes."
I grin against the skin of her neck, pulling her flush against me and savoring the little yelp that gets me from her. "Oh, trust me, I know. But I wasn't planning on a repetition of that. Just a... thank you, for how well you treated me just now."
"Lucien." She breathes, in a way that lets me know that I'm no longer allowed to stop now. Her hand shakes when she reaches for the knob that turns off the flame. As soon as it is, I swivel around so that I'm now leaning against the counter while holding Emma against me. Her breathing is shallow now and her head falls back against my shoulder in anticipation of what's to come. I take my time, teasing her, my fingers creeping downwards ever so slowly. When they finally reach the edge of her underwear and pull it down, Emma whimpers, and it might just be the best sound in the world.

An hour later, we're finally sitting down to actually have breakfast. By now we're both starving and few things will distract us long enough from inhaling the eggs and toast. Still, the tension between us is palpable and I'm not mad about it.
"We still need to drive down to Alnwick if we want something to eat tonight." I say, halfway through my plate of food. Emma nods, staring at something in the distance. "Is there any way to order in in this place?"
Emma snorts a laugh. "What do you think?"
Well, there go my plans to actually stay inside the house all day. But we truly can't live on the snacks and the booze that other people made sure we have, so after doing the dishes together we get dressed and head out for the ride. The scenery around us is so gorgeous that I actually drive way below the speed limit so we can enjoy it more. "Scotland truly looks like it's from a different time." I say as we drive by some of those low rock-fences that are so famous here. "Honestly, if you told me we'd just driven through a portal and are now living in the 1400's, I would believe you in a heartbeat."
The time flies by and soon we're about to entering Alnwick, greeted by yet another castle, because in this country, every city needs to have a castle. Emma tells me where to go, we still get lost because apparently things have changed since she's last been here, but at last we manage to find the shops. Because this isn't a village like Bamburgh, we go back to our ways of pretending we're not a couple. Just to be safe.
"So what's for dinner?" Emma asks as we stroll through the pathways. "We could make a stew - the weather sure is like it." She says, referring to the looming grey clouds we saw outside.
"Can I cook for you tonight?" I reply, smiling at her surprised but delighted look.
"I... Sure you can. Any special reason?"
I shake my head. "Just that you've been cooking a lot for me lately. I want to return the favour. And since we're on the countryside, I'll make you my grandpère's favourite dishes."
That makes her suspicious - with a can of beans halfway between the shelf and our cart, she narrows her eyes at me. "It better not be frog legs."
"Not frog legs." I laugh, shaking my head. "Although, now that I know that you don't want to eat those, I am going to make you eat them someday. They're just like chicken, really."
She pulls up her nose, not convinced. "Good luck with that. So if it's not frog legs, then what is it?"
"Quiche." I say simply. "With vegetables grilled on an open flame. The quiche can be made in the oven, but it's better when it's cooked on open fire as well."
Lucky my suggestive tone doesn't fly over Emma's head, because she looks at me with her head tipped to the side. "Are you asking me where we can make a fire so you can go all viking on me and cook over it?"
It takes a second for it to come, but the smile that curls her lips tells me that she knows just the place. "What else do you need?"
It takes us a while to find everything in a market we're not familiar with, but eventually we leave with several large bags that are filled to the brim, so hopefully we don't have to go another time. We do make quick use of internet access in the city to check on the weather report, just to be sure - it's going to stay overcast, but apparently it's going to stay dry until tomorrow. Emma's eyes light up at that news.
"That means we can go to the beach." She says. I raise my brows at her in question.
"Bonfire at the beach?"
"Can't get more viking than that, can it?"

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