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It’s a man’s scent, but she wears it well. Alluring, swashbuckling, adventurous, sexy – and it drives Gilear wild to smell it on his wife. She dabs a little Jean Paul Gaultier Le Male Elixir on her wrists and behind her ears this morning and notes of mint and lavender waft around her, enticing her husband as she bends down and gives him a peck on the cheek as she joins him and Fabian for breakfast.
“Gilear, darling, what are you doing today?”
His mouth flaps open and closed, too stunned by her beauty to think properly, and the base scents of honey and tobacco leave him desiring her. He’s a meek man, but the cologne stirs up something bold inside of him.
“You, if you’ll let me,” he breathes, and then gasps in shock at his own words.
Across the table Fabian spits out his green smoothie, and Cathilda is right there, gently patting him on the back and handing him a towel.
“Ma-! Gil-! I-!” he sputters, his brain unsure where to direct his outrage. “You can’t say that at the breakfast table!” he finally manages to shout, wiping his face.
Hallariel pouts. “Why not, Fabian? Aren’t you glad to see your parents in a happy, healthy relationship?”
Fabian shoots Gilear a sharp glare at the word ‘parents,’ but doesn't correct his mother’s phrasing. “I… am happy that you two love each other so much, but when one is in the company of others, I think it’s uncouth to bring up the… physical part of the relationship,” he tactfully admonishes.
Hallariel sniffs disdainfully. “You’re just being a prude.”
Now it’s Fabian’s turn to flap his mouth in shock.
“Me?! A prude?!” he questions, flabbergasted.
“Yes,” she says pointedly, lifting her nose to the air. “You’re practically an adult now, Fabian. You really must be mature about these things. You should not be shaming Gilear and me for making passionate love.”
“Mamá!!” he wails, taking offense at the unnecessary addition of the word ‘passionate.’
Gilear, meanwhile, is doing his best to concentrate as beneath the table Hallariel secretly rubs her foot up along his leg. He swallows audibly and shoots her a panicked look. She winks back and he can feel himself getting hot under the collar.
“Why Master Gilear, are you feeling alright? You look very flushed!” comments Cathilda, setting down his yogurt in front of him.
“I, uh, I think I need to go wash my face,” he mumbles, and excuses himself from the table before hurrying upstairs.
“I’d better go help him,” purrs Hallariel, getting up as well.
“Mamá, seriously! It’s 7:30 in the morning!” protests Fabian, but Hallariel ignores him and saunters off after her lover while Cathilda gives Fabian a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.
“I’m sorry, Master Fabian, but they’re adults and can do their own thing. Her and Old Bill were very much like that at the start, too, you know. I’m sure after a few years those two will mellow out, but I’m afraid that there’s nothing you can do but get used to seeing adults in love.”
Fabian groans. “You, too, Cathilda?”
“Suck it up, boyo.” Her voice is dark and cold, and for a brief moment, Cathilda the Black makes an appearance. But in a heartbeat she’s back to her cheery, smiling self again. “How about I pack you some kippers for lunch, to soothe the sting, hm?”
Fabian blinks, unsure he heard what she had said, but then he shakes it off. “I think that will do just fine, Cathilda. Thank you.”