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Farm? Oh, was that was it was called? What a terribly odd word for something that should otherwise be so wonderful, so giving and so special. Not to mention very, very sexy. If one was into that sort of thing, of course.
"I don't think it would be farming should I willingly offer myself... Especially for, ah, mutual satisfaction." That had been a tricky enough way of putting it without being in any way embarrassing. Hopefully.
Regardless, Belladonna only pressed a small kiss to his throat after he attempted to clear it. And silly Mort, the witch wouldn't hide any pain that she could willingly expound upon because for whatever reason, she was totally into that. Still, she kept her hold on him, suddenly a little sleepy again. It was just so comfortable in his arms, so sweet. Yet the arm that let go to blindly searched for his glasses reminded her that there were things to do and with a tiny sigh the witch let go to lean over and snatch up his glasses from the bedside table.
"Hold still." It was simple command as the witch flicked open the arms and hesitantly held them in line with his face. Granted, it would have been easier to just hand them to him, but there was just something about helping like this that was rather appealing. So, the witch did her best to slide his glasses on seamlessly, after which she sat back down firmly planted in his lap.

"We don't have to go! I just figured it might be fun... To just kind of, you know, be silly some more..." Yes, it was painfully obvious that Belladonna had missed Mort and was trying to make up for the week apart. Even if it meant doing something as ridiculously mundane as shopping. For a token of favor, no less.
"If you'd like to go back to your room... To shower or get your wallet or whatever, that's fine!" She chirped, one hand suddenly trying to flatten the hair that had surely sprung up in the night. The witch could most likely use a shower as well, as her hair had not only decided to have its own way, but her face felt dirty with all the previous day's tears. Even if it meant having to let him go, the witch could at least handle getting him back so soon.

Wholly unaware of the zombie's internal train of though, Belladonna could only sit there and blankly watch him, vastly confused and more than a little curious. What was he thinking that made him so suddenly vacant? Eyebrows crumbled over her eyes as she tried to figure it out, but could only draw random words that didn't make a bit of sense. About to raise a finger and poke at his face to get a reaction, a hand instead mussed up the witch's already destroyed hair. A tiny shriek was his reply as her hands clamped down over the mess that hardly resembled a braid, all wild curls that actually didn't look nearly as bad as she thought it did.
"I do so apologize, but I suppose we'll just have to--" Here Belladonna grabbed the boil and pulled him back down so that they both flopped onto the pillows. "--Rest a bit more then?"

But at his strange accent, Belladonna paused and rose up onto an her hands that she propped on either side of Mort so she could look down at him.
"Wait... Was that accent supposed to be... Me?" She asked in a strangely neutral voice that still hinted at being slightly accented. It was merely something the witch just couldn't shake. Even if it wasn't on every word, it was still enough to be noticed, apparently.
And then, with a deadly serious voice and her face tiled slightly down so that her bangs cast a shadow over her eyes, the witch announced, "I will tickle you again."

An eyebrow raised over the witch's eyes at his little show of faux-horror, but she only raised one hand, poised to strike at any moment. Strange that he was being so very obvious about it, but still, the witch wasn't going to deny him this very silly moment. Hell, she wasn't about to deny herself this moment, so she only ominously rose the other hand. Fingers bent at startlingly angles, maybe they would one day be considered scary with her long nails and thin bones, but for now they would only make someone from Halloweentown giggle at the sight of something so puny.
Refusing to be daunted, the witch leaned forward just as Mort did. It was a bit of a surprise, enough so that Belladonna stopped closer to him than she had meant. While she listened to him her fingers slowly relaxed until her hands dropped from the air at his lowered voice and sentence. They harmlessly crashed into the witch's lap and didn't even moved when she was kissed.

Unsure of what exactly to do, the witch returned the kiss for just a bit more until she finally pulled back and opened her mouth.
"I find the civility and genial qualities of a gentleman to be that of those who are well educated, have extensive scholarly backgrounds and are equipped with the proper usages of a cravat."
That wasn't even a real sentence. It was just words. Fancy words because Mort rarely asked for anything, so Belladonna was more than willing to oblige.
Now, if only she had been able to produce all that in her own seductive voice, she would have been perfect. Instead, she said it quickly with her accent a bit thicker, wracked with a nervous disposition that surely caused her to sound ridiculous. Oh Hecate, if he kept looking at her like that she'd talk fancy all day if need be.

Since her strange, accented mumbling had somehow managed to go over even slightly well, the witch heaved a sigh of relief. Alright, this wasn't so bad! She could just ever so slowly get this seduction train back on track. Yeah! It would be totally easy to just keep talking and-- Aaahhh, no. No, no, that wouldn't do. Belladonna could see the way he smiled, as though she were being silly rather than seductive. Well, it wasn't like he was very vocal about what he liked! Granted, the witch was only adamant for herself because she knew what she liked, so maybe, just maybe, Mort didn't?
Ooohhh~ What delicious fun that could be.
"Yes, like from your steampunk outfit." The witch replied in a vaguely breathy voice, hoping that maybe that would help. Even a little! "Ties? Ties are quite excellent too. Do they happen to come with any suits?"
Mmmmm, yes, Mort in a suit. Perfect.

At his little confession, the witch raised her eyebrows as though this were truly an interesting concept. There was even a small little "oh?" of interest from the witch, one little finger moving forward to make a swirl pattern against the boil's chest. There was no helping the little lean in forward she executed, only stopping right at his throat where she could speak but still breath on it as well.
"Oh really now?" It would have to do, as she wasn't quite prepared to let him be aware of the fact that she had been teasing him just the tiniest bit. Besides, it was better to pretend she was just rather intuitive than rather sneaky. "And you're sure you can't remember a thing?" The witch pressed a kiss to his stitches as one hand found the back of his neck, idly twirling a loose strand of hair around her finger.
I'll get you yet, my pretty...

"Oh..." The disappointment was clearer in the witch's voice than she had intended, but what else was she to do but quietly mourn the fact that her dearest didn't like wearing suits? It was a true tragedy, something magnificent songs and operas would be written about, for suits suited everybody and Mort especially. Mostly Belladonna was just mourning the fact that she was essentially being denied the request of even asking to just see him in one, let alone all the fun she could have afterward.
Yet now was not the time for such a thing as the witch had begun down a slippery slope of seduction and thus had to continue on down the hill until she either got her way, or they both crashed and found something else to do. Both options were more than entirely possible.
Another kiss was placed, still along the little bits of thread, as Belladonna listened absently. It was odd to get her way so easily, but when Mort told her his dream, the witch stopped. Eyes opened wide as she took on the full meaning of what he said.

Alive? Did Undead and Ghosts actually... Dream that sort of thing? Why?
The witch almost pulled away, almost looked at him to question his dreaming (as though it were something he willingly chose to watch) when he instead let out the tiniest of encouraging noises. Momentarily thrown off track (No, seriously, dreaming about being alive! That was so odd and off putting!!), Belladonna placed another kiss directly over the spot she'd already touched, trying desperately not to be hurt by his living dream. After all, she'd been there. But in what incarnation? Had she been Human too? Was it because it was so easy for her to just be transposed onto a Human because she already resembled one in every way save for her eyes?
Maybe she was being a little too touchy, a little too hasty about it all. Curiosity had been piqued at his admission of 'normal stuff', so Belladonna suddenly became determined to find out what he meant.
This time she switched to the other side of his neck, still keeping along the line of his stitches, as she pressed a kiss to it, along with a quick swipe of her tongue. The hand at his hair reached up into further hair, one fingernail lightly scraping down along his spine.
"What kind of things?" Ah yes, she had almost perfected that low little purr of a voice.
Most excellent.

"I am afraid I don't..." The witch replied in a falsely reluctant voice, "You might just have to show me."
Everything was going so swimmingly, like a dream only better because there weren't any odd metaphors that tripped one up or strange turns that made the dream a nightmare. It was so lovely, to not only get her way but to actually be getting somewhere, to be learning something about her dearest zombie, that Belladonna started to get a little heady. Before it had been all fun and games, but now it was starting to get to her too. Breathing was suddenly different, stranger and more acute as the witch slowly moved to a new spot.
And breathing became almost impossible as the front of her shirt was grabbed, and for one moment Belladonna thought far too much.
For one quick moment she almost told him it was alright if they took things slow, they had time. Neither witch nor zombie had to be anywhere that day, they had all the time in the world. If they had wanted to just lounge around all day, go shopping whenever they got tired of just sitting in the other's company, it was totally fine. Whatever he wanted! The witch knew she pushed, she was sorry, they could slow down if he wanted.

But then his hands were on her face and somehow she had ended up in his lap, legs all tangled in bedsheets as she tried to accommodate him and not knee him. And then she couldn't speak, all the words died on her mouth and instead Belladonna put both hands into his hair and decided that no, no it was perfectly alright if they moved quickly. That heady emotion, all amber and wanting, rose up within her and drowned her. Glad to lose herself, the witch returned his kiss with all the passion in which he had given, fingers curling into his hair with just the tiniest bit of pull while the witch let one hand drop to his back. She had to hold something, anything to anchor her to what going on, so her fist grabbed at his shirt, anything to remind her that there was more than just this kiss.
It didn't work, as Belladonna found herself lost in everything but Mort and this moment and the fluttering of her heart.

So many elements meshed together so quickly that even had the witch wanted to help seduce her boilfriend more, there was absolutely no way for her to do that. All she could do was secede control to him, to let a little noise escape her throat at the tug on her hair, feel her heart pound harder with his hand on her thigh and try not to get too wound up. Naturally, the witch had already dived into being so wound up that the moment his bite began, Belladonna could only invoke his name before she gave herself over to him completely.

And then time skip wheeee

With a heavy sigh the witch flopped back onto her pillows, teeth clamped over her bottom lip to keep from laughing. Everything was just so wonderful, she ached so deliciously and the little tendrils of pink that healed all her bites actually tickled. Even though she pressed down on the blanket around her would be exposed chest, the healing spell still made her want to burst into a fit of a giggles. There wasn't much left on the spell, mostly because a few bruises would remain. Not because the witch was particularly bad at the spell, she had already proven she could do it. Mostly it stemmed from the fact that taking away all the hurt, all the ache with no left over reminder of what had been was far too easy. It would mean nothing if something didn't keep on, even for only a day or two more.
Suddenly bashful, Belladonna pulled the sheet up to her mouth so that pink eyes stared up at Mort.
"I rather like that wake up. Can you stay over more often?"
She asked with a giggle, unable to keep the laughter at bay.