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"You're cooking," Jessamine says, sliding into a stool at the breakfast bar and primly pulling Corvo's shirt back down her thighs. It's owner furrows his brow at the pancake he's trying to flip, the crease in his brow not smoothing until he's sucessfully turned it over and settled it back on the griddle.
"Trying, anyway," Corvo replies, looking over his bare shoulder and wishing, only slightly, that he'd put his shirt on before Jess had stolen it. The Kaldwin estate is always freezing.
Jessamine isn't there when he looks, having taken the time during his pancake preoccupation to slip behind him. He starts, just a little, as she mantles herself against his back and presses a kiss to the back of his neck. Once she drops down off her tip-toes, her face presses between his shoulder blades, and she inhales and sighs. Corvo still smells like her bedroom, her lightly floral soap and conditioner from his shower this morning. Not like sex, which is a little unfortunate, but she's hardly about to press him when he's not feeling like engaging.
This is just as good, anyway. The sleepy warmth in the kitchen and the smell of slowly cooking pancakes. Jessamine smiles as she steps away from him just as he turns his head to look at her again. As he's settling a fresh pancake on the plate, she snatches one of the cooler ones underneath, padding to the pantry to get the syrup and squeezing some, carefully, directly onto the pancake she's rolled into a cone.
"Jessamine... You're gonna make a mess," he says, huffing softly.
"It's my house."
"I know, but--"
"I'll make it up to you. Batting cages today?"
"I'm supposed to make sure you get to your meetings, Miss Kaldwin."
She can tell his heart isn't in it from the way he perked up the moment she said 'bat'. While he's primarily a lacrosse player, Corvo loves anything that involves a ball and a stick. Jessamine can see the appeal, likes the feel of something heavy and potentially dangerous in her hands. She polishes off her pancake and slips to his side as he pours another circle of batter onto the griddle.
"I promise we'll only skip one. It'll be one of the boring ones. Those evil little trolls on the board can stew for a little longer about the Boyle project."
She waits until he's set down the bowl to turn his head to face hers, only needing a gentle hand on his cheek to coax him into the movement. Her eyes flick down to his lips, his tongue peeks out to slide across them as he nods, and she smiles and pushes herself up on the balls of her feet to press her mouth to his.
The kiss they share is sticky-sweet.