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Hgggnnnnn~
That grin was just too adorable for Belladonna to look at for very long, so she pulled the blanket back up over her eyes, but only for a moment. His laugh made her peek back out, unwilling to continue missing the smile that was meant only for her.
"I suppose I could let you sleep in a bit more..." The witch replied with her own grin as she went about tucking the sheet around her bust, much in the way one would a towel. "Do you want me to fetch you some needle and thread?" It was a small offer, one that would certainly require she relinquish the sheet tucked around her, but something she was willing to give up.
It took a moment, but Belladonna finally, however belatedly, realized what Mort had asked her. The initial reaction was to blink a few times before she began to laugh again.
"Of course I'm ok! I feel wonderful." Vaguely achey, giddy as hell and glad to have gotten her way. Yeah, Belladonna was feeling more than okay.

"How about you?" She asked with a small wiggle, just for something to do. The witch may or may not have been trying to be as cute and adorable as possible, but mostly just looked rather derpy. In a somewhat cute way, naturally.

Maybe perfect was a little high to shoot for, but if it was unintentionally achieved, then maybe... Maybe that was alright.
With a crooked smile Belladonna began to get up from the bed, hands looking absently for her shirt but not finding it anywhere. Huh...
"I have some, hold on just one second..." She mumbled, eyebrows furrowed. No, seriously. What had happened to their shirts?! The witch's bloomers were still intact, but goodness, that shirt... Weird... In any event, she paused as Mort gave her a kiss, though on hand did clamp down against her hair.
"Oh Hecate it looks awful, doesn't it?" Her voice was far too serious for such a moment, but the witch couldn't help it. Hair was rather important and the fact that Mort was getting to see it all messed up, wayward and untamed, was a bit like seeing something rather rare. Well, for now it would be. Should they decide to continue this little ritual of staying with the other, it would certainly end quite quickly.
Still, the witch let her vanity go for long enough to drop her hand and smile up at Mort, though a blush painted her cheeks momentarily.

The blush rather seemed to stay as she clamped on arm around her chest and hopped from the bed. The sewing table was not so far, only a hop and a skip away, and it was thankfully littered with all sorts of things, namely spools of thread and chopped up pieces of fabric. A needle was a bit harder to find as they were hiding in the basket under the desk, but it only took Belladonna a few moments before she returned to the bed, presented both needle and black thread to Mort (all one handed) and climbed back into bed where she pulled the sheet back up over herself. Not that he hadn't seen anything, but still. Propriety should still hold some sway... At least a little.
"Can we nap now?" Belladonna asked with a small smile as she reclined for a moment, before she snapped back up into a sitting position. "Do you need help with your stitching? Do you need to see your mouth or can you do it without looking? Do you need a mirror?"
It had been a long time since the witch had sprung so many questions on the zombie, but just like the old days they were out faster than she could ever pretend to stop, her face curious and waiting for his reply.

Shut up Mort. You were just jealous because everyone loved Belladonna and they only thought you were a less hot version of her.
When her bangs were released, Belladonna couldn't help but comb her fingers through them, self-conscious nonetheless. Worrying came second nature, it came unbidden and refused to leave. Worry was worse than a bad house guest because it seeped into everything and just stayed, quiet but there. Rather an unfortunate thing to consider after such a lovely morning.
"There's one by the sewing machine. Its full length though." Of course it was! One needed to see their creations right away, and in all their glory.
"I was joking..." Belladonna mumbled as she flopped forward to lie on her stomach, a large pile of blankets stuffed under her chest so she could watch him sew himself back together. It was odd to watch, but even more odd to consider such a thing.

"Does it hurt? Sewing yourself back up?" The witch asked simply, her voice softer than she'd expected. When she had been alone in her room, when she been scared of dying, the witch had performed one ritual that would remain a secret for as long as she could keep it, mostly because it had been so cowardly. When things got too frightening, when she could almost feel her moment of death right at the back of her neck, she would grab a sewing needle and p***k her fingers. All of them, if necessary, but as many as was needed to see the blood, to feel the pain. And it had hurt. It had hurt the more she did it, especially when the bruises were still tender or her hands had gone all shaky.
So to think of that and then think of having to continually sew herself back up... It seemed awful!

With arms crossed over the blankets, Belladonna lowered her chin behind them, so she spoke through her bones, a muffled sort of sound.
"Sorry it still hurts..." She mumbled, pink eyes trained on his actions. It was odd to watch, but something she didn't mind one bit. Something she'd actually be quite alright with getting used to. Strange, but the witch had never considered getting used to someone else, let alone someone else's actions. For so long she'd been alone, had to only think of herself, that sitting here, watching Mort invoked a feeling she could neither name nor really examine. Instead she smiled behind her arms, glad he was here with her.
"Oh I don't want to disrupt you getting homework done! If you need to do it, go on ahead..."

Her head had popped up so she could address him without the muffle, and she raised up a little. But with that all done, she lowered her gaze toward the floor, once more sheepish.
"But if you'd like to go we can... Certainly you could always just surprise me with a token of favor...I trust you."
But even that would mean separating, and while Belladonna was glad to have spent the time with Mort she had, she still wanted more. Maybe it was better that was. Maybe she should want more and be denied some, just so she would cherish what she had with him?
Or maybe that was silly and Belladonna wanted what she wanted right now. After all, she'd grown used to getting her way. Why stop now?

Though not wanting to contradict what his mother said, Belladonna couldn't help but think that wasn't all true. The only thing that ever hurt her was her back every once in a while, but magic was a wonderful thing. So maybe beauty was pain unless one had a good healing spell?
In any event the witch shrugged and accepted this without complaint, one finger idly toying with a loose lock of hair. It got a bit boring just standing there watching someone work, so eventually Belladonna let her eyes droop down so that she idly dozed for a few moments before the little noise perked her back up. Though, at the mention of his mother once again...
"Will she be coming to the festival?"
One hand rummaged around under the blankets before it finally closed over a fabric that wasn't the sheets. With a triumphant tug Belladonna pulled it back, only to discover it wasn't her own shirt. Huh... Regardless she offered it to Mort and sat up to look for her own. Where had that pesky thing gone off to...

"Yeah! Yeah I like that idea." Belladonna replied with a smile as she snatched back up the sheet to cover herself momentarily. "That'll give me plenty of time to get everything ready!" Because obviously, a simple red ribbon would be silly. There needed to be more put into the item, much more. And already Belladonna had plans for that simple little item.
With a small bite of her lower lip, the witch looked up at him before she quietly added, "Thank you for coming to find me yesterday."

Somehow Belladonna managed to extract her own shirt, which she hastily pulled over her own head before she nodded at Mort. Yeah, sure. There was definitely no way his mother wasn't going to spend the entire evening shooting daggers at the witch.
In any event, the witch jumped up and wrapped her arms around his neck, mumbling a small "I'll always wait for you.".
Then they kissed. And it was good and junk.



And since they had already talked forever Though sad to see him go, the witch still walked him out the door and waved goodbye. Things had turned out far better than she expected, especially considering the start. If they could work through all that, they could certainly work through anything.