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It's starting to get on your nerves, the constant words spilling out of Rouxls in that god-awful accent. He's sweet, and you really like the guy, you do, so you allowed him to help you decorate Castle Town for Christmas. Unfortunately, it turns out that consists of him following you around and running his mouth. Seriously, he's ceaseless in his chatter. You blow out a long breath as he opens his mouth to start up again, and you cut him off.
"Rouxls, can you pass me that strand of lights?" you request with as much patience as you can gather. He blinks, then nods, but of course, he has something to say about that, too.
"Well, of courseth, mine lovely! Herest thou go," he proclaims enthusiastically, holding out the lights. You smile tightly and take them from him. Standing on tiptoe, you reach up to hang the lights, tuning out Rouxls blabbering away in the background. Frustratingly, you're just too short to reach the ledge of the castle, unable to put up the lights. Before you can ever form a plan to get up there, Rouxls' hands are on your waist and he's lifting you up. You freeze in surprise, a panicked squeak escaping you when his grip falters and you wobble slightly. He manages to steady you in his arms, and you let out a sigh of relief.
Unsurprisingly, he's still vocalizing away, muttering things like "Watch thy step, dearest!" and "Thou art oddly light for a Speaker." His voice is right in your ear now, breath warm on your cheek as he holds you up. You shake it off and focus on hanging the lights. With slightly trembling hands, you dangle the strand of lights from the ledge, pinning it down with clips every few meters or so, and arranging it just so. You tap Rouxls' arm and he lowers you down, leaning you against his chest when your feet hit the ground to steady you. Feeling yourself blush, you wonder whether he's a normally touchy person or if this is new.
"It truly looketh magnificent, dearest," he hums to you, and you smile, reluctantly pulling away from his embrace to gather bobbles and sprigs of mistletoe, planning to hang them from the lights. Rouxls trails after you, not ceasing his jabbering even as you stuff handfuls of ornaments into his arms.
"...And I must sayeth, 'twas the most Wonderfule Christmas Tree that I ever did seeth," he prattles, holding out bright red spheres to you as you slowly make your way down the line, hooking them onto the wire of twinkly lights and listening with half an ear to his one-sided conversation.
Almost a half hour passes in this fashion, a headache beginning to form behind your eyes as you're denied even a five minute break from the sound of Rouxls' voice chittering away. It's really starting to drive you nuts, your hands tightening their grip on lengths of garland in irritation as he sucks in a breath only to begin again with just as much passion as he had twenty minutes back. You let out a soft sigh, gritting your teeth. You like Rouxls, you really do. He's thoughtful and ambitious and his hair looks like silver silk and his skin like ink and you sometimes just want to grab him and run your hands through his hair and pepper his midnight blue skin in kisses, but that damn voice is making you crazy. Your eyes land on a cheery mistletoe sitting on top of the pile of décor, and a spark of an idea ignites.
"...Really, the worms didn't knoweth what hittest them-" he cackles until you snap, snatching the mistletoe and reaching up to fasten it just above his head, smirking at how silent he's suddenly become.
"...Pray tell, what art thou doing with thy mistletoeth- oh." His dark skin turns a lovely shade of sky blue across his cheeks, flaming in a deep blush from the roots of his angelic hair. You slide your hands slow up the front of his suit, and he shivers, diamond eyes locked on your hands like they hold the secret of the universe. Eventually, your fingers make their way into his snow-white locks, and goddamn, are they soft. Your lips curve into a smile as you card your hands through the colourless strands, which do indeed feel silken under your touch. Rouxls is twitching under your hands, visibly shaken as he tries to get closer to you. You let your nose bump his deep blue one, and his lips find yours with a relieved sigh that sounds like coming home.
Merryeth Christmas, guys.