Marcus let out a heavy sigh of relief as she suggested an alternative to this situation. He assumed her hesitance and awkward silence was a part of his mistaken diction, and not from a quite accurate completion of his words. Or perhaps he knew the latter was true, and Marcus chose to believe the former. Regardless, the young scholar beamed a bright and casual smile as he spun her around in his arms, reversing their positions in the sunlight. He stood with her body just slightly to the left of the window, and smirked as the soft light illuminated his features. His emerald eyes contained something else now, and even if you pressed the man himself, he probably wouldn't be able to tell you what it was. "Breakfast it is then, my shadow rose." Marcus smirked playfully to Lilium, her lovely featured washed with a red complimenting her hair. His voice once again was merry and sweet, characteristically so even. It was as if this he had just woken up following last night, and nothing else had occurred. That is not to say that Marcus was forgetting what had happened, but merely shrugging it off as he had a tendency to do. Some things aren't pridefully remembered, after all. Whether the heat they had generated was Marcus' doing (Which accounted for a good portion of it), or it was indeed a toasty day, Marcus went over and dressed in one of his cotton-white work shirts, and stopped there, shirking his usual robed appearance. He saw himself slowly falling out of favoring with the bulky garment, and he made a mental note about perhaps getting a multitude of small pockets stitched into the Dymez Crimson. He loved having pockets available to him, and loved the opportunity to wear the Crimson almost as much, despite the memories associated with the mysteriously-obtained cloak. "To answer your earlier question, it wasn't just luck; I do have quite a few tricks up my sleeve. Rest-assured, as long as you're with me, I will illuminate your corner of the shadow. Your demons cannot harm me, and I do believe I've frightened them like a collared dog." He gave her a reassuring smirk over his shoulder while his mind debated the validity of his words. Creating a similar shield would not be a problem now that he had in his mind a pattern that sufficed, (Did he mention it was an untested weave? That was the luck part), but she had been a lot stronger than Marcus had anticipated, and doubly as vicious. Still, with such weapons at his disposal, how could he lose... Right? Marcus stood there for a brief moment, a hand going to idly button up his cotton shirt while he thought, when another playful grin stole the stage. His hand let go of the small wooden cylinder used to hold his shirt together, and grabbing a small pack of optional necessities as well as his purse, Marcus strode over to the delicately crimson maiden. He flashed her an obviously-flawed, innocent smile, and asked in the most polite tone, "Would this fair angel mind buttoning me up? I seem to have my hands full." He raised his hands filled with a small coin-purse and a small satchel to accentuate the point. He couldn't help but have one last jest to scatter the awkward sensation of earlier, and honestly, the sight of her flustered features done by his hands did stroke his ego somewhat. After all, she was a creature of divinity, and Marcus a dock-hand turned wizard. There was literally not one ordinary thing about any of this; something straight out of a fae-tale. Needless to say, he had to fight to not break into laughter. |