Post by xiulan zhou on Dec 11, 2021 0:32:42 GMT -7
May 2018
Macao
Macao
Xiulan moved her leg underneath her duvet and pulled it back when she brushed her toe against her husband's leg accidentally. He was still asleep after all, she realized, and she hadn't intended to disturb him. "Sorry, Aloysius, darling, I thought you were awake already," she murmured in Cantonese when she realized that he had begun to stir because of her touch. The surety in knowing that he was beside her was comforting enough; she didn't expect him to be awake every second that she was.
As Aloysius woke, she draped an arm over his shoulder, pulling him closer to her. He certainly had put on more muscle than he had had when they had first met, but he was still lean. It made it easier for her to grab him, not that she was forceful or that it bothered him. "I love you," she whispered into his ear.
Repositioning himself, Aloysius leaned back a little into her touch and turned his head so that their lips met briefly. He then sunk back against his pillow. Xiulan felt certain that he was going to fall asleep again like that and moved her arm so that it was out of his way, but he spoke after a few moments. "Did you sleep well?" he asked her, still not sounding fully awake himself.
"I did," Xiulan answered him, not moving much from where she had been.
"Good," Aloysius responded with a slight yawn. "I was worried about you last night."
"It was just stress," she reassured him, shrugging off that she had gone to bed with a headache the previous night. It hadn't been one of her fits that had put her out of commission, and she had been grateful that it had been just a headache. Entering a trance was always something that she dreaded, not that she had any say over when or where they happened. It made her anxious, in truth, although that wasn't something that she had ever felt the need to hide from Aloysius. If she agonized over what she would be wearing to some function, he had learned that it wasn't out of vanity. If she fell or collapsed entirely, Xiulan reasoned, she needed to be wearing something that would pose less danger to her—not that she wanted to give up wearing high heels or floaty dress robes.
For his part, Aloysius took a lot of strain from off her shoulders. She didn't have to worry about the little details of what she was wearing or if she would be able to make it out of a situation before embarrassing herself completely—or risking magical secrecy, depending on the setting. Sometimes, Xiulan swore that he knew her better than she knew herself. He could read her well, and she could read him. Years of marriage had helped there, too. They had learned who they were—as individuals and as a couple—together.
"Do you feel well enough to go to the benefit tonight?" Aloysius then checked, almost sounding to Xiulan as though he had been looking for an excuse to get out of attending.
She didn't mind going, but a better question was if he wanted to. "I can go," she replied softly. "I feel fine." That wasn't a problem, and Xiulan reached out to massage Aloysius's shoulder. "We don't have to go if you don't want to." Though some people might have scoffed at what he did for a living on the basis that philanthropy wasn't really "work", Xiulan had seen for herself how stressful it could be. There were always obligations to someone or something, financially, professionally, or personally. "It's not like you to cancel on anyone—and never without a valid reason. They won't think poorly of you." No, Aloysius remained true to his word. He wasn't flaky, and no one was going to fault him if he had a family emergency at the last minute.
"We can stay in," Xiulan reiterated lovingly, speaking with a note of relief in her own voice. Neither of them were lazy, but she didn't mind the thought of getting to spend time with her husband alone. "It's not a lie that I wasn't well last night," she pointed out. It wasn't unreasonable for him not to attend if she were possibly ill with something contagious. (She wasn't, but that didn't matter.) It would be cautious of him, conscientious. "Just go back to sleep."
As Aloysius woke, she draped an arm over his shoulder, pulling him closer to her. He certainly had put on more muscle than he had had when they had first met, but he was still lean. It made it easier for her to grab him, not that she was forceful or that it bothered him. "I love you," she whispered into his ear.
Repositioning himself, Aloysius leaned back a little into her touch and turned his head so that their lips met briefly. He then sunk back against his pillow. Xiulan felt certain that he was going to fall asleep again like that and moved her arm so that it was out of his way, but he spoke after a few moments. "Did you sleep well?" he asked her, still not sounding fully awake himself.
"I did," Xiulan answered him, not moving much from where she had been.
"Good," Aloysius responded with a slight yawn. "I was worried about you last night."
"It was just stress," she reassured him, shrugging off that she had gone to bed with a headache the previous night. It hadn't been one of her fits that had put her out of commission, and she had been grateful that it had been just a headache. Entering a trance was always something that she dreaded, not that she had any say over when or where they happened. It made her anxious, in truth, although that wasn't something that she had ever felt the need to hide from Aloysius. If she agonized over what she would be wearing to some function, he had learned that it wasn't out of vanity. If she fell or collapsed entirely, Xiulan reasoned, she needed to be wearing something that would pose less danger to her—not that she wanted to give up wearing high heels or floaty dress robes.
For his part, Aloysius took a lot of strain from off her shoulders. She didn't have to worry about the little details of what she was wearing or if she would be able to make it out of a situation before embarrassing herself completely—or risking magical secrecy, depending on the setting. Sometimes, Xiulan swore that he knew her better than she knew herself. He could read her well, and she could read him. Years of marriage had helped there, too. They had learned who they were—as individuals and as a couple—together.
"Do you feel well enough to go to the benefit tonight?" Aloysius then checked, almost sounding to Xiulan as though he had been looking for an excuse to get out of attending.
She didn't mind going, but a better question was if he wanted to. "I can go," she replied softly. "I feel fine." That wasn't a problem, and Xiulan reached out to massage Aloysius's shoulder. "We don't have to go if you don't want to." Though some people might have scoffed at what he did for a living on the basis that philanthropy wasn't really "work", Xiulan had seen for herself how stressful it could be. There were always obligations to someone or something, financially, professionally, or personally. "It's not like you to cancel on anyone—and never without a valid reason. They won't think poorly of you." No, Aloysius remained true to his word. He wasn't flaky, and no one was going to fault him if he had a family emergency at the last minute.
"We can stay in," Xiulan reiterated lovingly, speaking with a note of relief in her own voice. Neither of them were lazy, but she didn't mind the thought of getting to spend time with her husband alone. "It's not a lie that I wasn't well last night," she pointed out. It wasn't unreasonable for him not to attend if she were possibly ill with something contagious. (She wasn't, but that didn't matter.) It would be cautious of him, conscientious. "Just go back to sleep."
