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“Marcus?” Y’shtola said in a tone he recognized. It was pleasant, friendly, and instantly put him on alert. “What is that?”
Marcus looked up from the necklace he was crafting to see what she was talking about. He felt his blood run cold. Oh sweet merciful gods no.
“What is what?” He asked, thinking desperately of an escape route.
“That.” Y’shtola said, pointing quite unnecessarily at the figure he had left on the chair.
“Oh, that? It’s a mammet.” The window was closed, but if he led with his forearm he should be able to break through it without needing to slow down.
“And why do you have a mammet that is designed to look like me?” Y’shtola asked, her hands on her hips. She eyed the little wind-up toy that was indeed crafted to look like a miniature version of herself, albeit with dollish features rather than realistic ones.
“Because it’s… really cute?” Marcus offered. He was gauging how horrible the lacerations he was going to get from smashing a pane of glass with his bare arm would be. Pretty horrible, but still preferable than the alternative.
“I see.” There were ninja out there who could train their entire lives and not be as quietly deadly as Y’shtola’s voice was right now. “And what do you do with this, cute, mammet?”
Marcus was going to answer that by breaking into a run but by luck or design Y’shtola blocked his path to the window by stepping forward. She picked up the white sweater wearing mammet, tweaking the arms and legs as if testing the range of movement. Her eyes flicked up from it to pierce uncomfortably into him.
“I… uh, cuddle it?” Marcus said lamely, praying to whatever god who would listen to strike him dead where he sat. “You know, when you want to hold onto something for like stress relief so you grab… something… cute…” He trailed off when his brain finally caught up with his mouth and pointed out Y’shtola’s very painfully serene expression. He thought she couldn’t get any madder, but here they were.
“Hmm, how amusing.” Y’shtola looked like she hadn’t seen anything less amusing in her life. “Show me.”
Marcus almost fumbled the mammet when she tossed it to him. “Show you?” He repeated dumbly.
“Yes.” Y’shtola’s arms were folded now, ears flattening against her head as her pretense of calmness wore thin. “I would like you to demonstrate how exactly you ‘cuddle’ this little toy of yours for ‘stress relief’.”
He was going to die here, Marcus realized, so he might as well go out doing what he loved. He stood, holding the mammet in both hands as he stepped clear of the table and stood before Y’shtola.
“Well, I like to hug my Y’shtola.” He said, and in a fluid motion tossed the doll back towards the table without looking as he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Y’shtola before she could react. Her folded arms made it an awkward hug, but he held her as close as he could despite that. “There’s nothing more relaxing than the feel of my Y’shtola in my arms.”
Her arms unfolded and for a moment he thought she was going to shove him off. Instead, her arms simply hung at her sides and while she didn’t lean into the embrace neither did she resist when he pulled her deeper into it. Her ears twitched in an encouraging way. Marcus felt a faint tendril of hope that he might actually survive this.
“What else do you do with ‘your’ Y’shtola?” She asked, head resting against his chest.
“I also like to pet her.” Still holding her close with one arm, his other went up to the space between her ears and began to slowly caress them. The softness of her hair and the subtly different feel of the fur on her ears made for an interesting tactile experience. The way he could feel her ears twitching and wiggling from the pleasant attention was also quite nice. “It’s soothing and I think she likes it.”
“Mayhaps.” Y’shtola said, which would have been a lot more inconclusive had it not been followed up by a pleased hum. She leaned into him further. “Anything else?”
“There is one other thing.” Wishing he had three hands, Marcus made the tough decision that he would have to let go of her torso. He took her tail in a gentle grip, delighting in feeling her jump from the sudden contact. “I can’t get enough of her tail.”
He started to slowly caress the furry appendage, running his hand along its length and applying just a little bit of pressure from his grip. “So soft and warm, and just the perfect size to fit in my hand nicely like this.” She gave a very rewarding purr from his attentions and reached her tail out further so it was more accessible.
It was tricky, having both hands maintain two different speeds and motions of petting, but among his many blessings was good coordination and he managed to settle into a comfortable rhythm with both. Her breathing had gotten slow and deep and her arms twitched at her sides as if she was going to move them but thought better of it. Marcus leaned in close to whisper in her ear.
“Yes, it’s very relaxing when I get some time to play with my Y’shtola.” He said, not missing the way her ears flicked upwards at his emphasis. “It’s one of my favorite things to do, really.”
“I can certainly see the appeal in such a… relaxation tool.” Y’shtola said, her eyes closed and mouth quirked in a content smile. “Mayhap I should consider getting one of these for myself.”
“Worth every gil.” Marcus said. “Though, there is one thing you can’t do with a mammet.”
Y’shtola cracked her eyes open and half raised her head to look at him. “And that is?”
By way of answer, he gently tilted her head so her face was aimed at his then slowly pressed his lips to hers. Y’shtola purred against his lips then leaned into the kiss. Her arms finally came up, wrapping around his waist and pulling him tightly against her. After a wonderfully long moment they parted. Y’shtola’s face was flushed and her hands clutched at him to keep their torsos flush against one another. Her now abandoned tail had curled around him to keep him as close as possible.
“For some things, you just can’t beat the genuine article.” Marcus said, smirking. He tried to stay humble, but he would challenge anyone who could get these reactions out of someone as proud, serious, and intimidating as his beautiful girlfriend without feeling a little smug about it.
“Indeed.” Y’shtola said. She raised a hand to pet the top of his head just like he had hers. The other dropped below his waist to give his behind a squeeze. “I’ll suppose I’ll have to content myself with my real Marcus, rather than a wind-up toy.”
Her own use of the possessive pronoun combined with the feel of her hands made his face flush, a not unwelcome reminder that she could work him even easier than he could her. Y’shtola grinned, whether from the look on his face or the humor of the situation he didn’t know or care. “Where did you even get such a thing?”
“I know people.” Marcus said with practiced casualness.
Y’shtola quirked an eyebrow. “Are these ‘people’ one Tataru Taru?”
Marcus made a point of shiftily looking from side to side. “Maybe.”
Y’shtola chuckled. “Then remind me to reach out to her. As pleasant as playing with this ‘toy’ has been, I would still like to have words with her. And I still want to incinerate that mammet.”
“Maybe I can convince you otherwise?” Marcus offered tentatively.
“Mayhaps. If you are particularly… persuasive.”
Marcus laughed then pulled her into another kiss, offering a silent prayer of thanks to the Twelve that she only knew about one of his Y’shtola mammets.