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Bell nodded, though the motion would go unseen, so she added, "I left it over there, I'll get it-"

Reluctant as she was to let go - she truly loved holding him like that, if only it were in lighter a mood - she stood and walked over to where she'd left the bag. She pulled out the tupperware, and even the spoon she'd included.
"Confetti cake batter, turned in to ice cream. Two of the best things, merged in to one," Bell said with a smile. You'd never had known she had been near tears. Unless you looked real close. And had the lighting been better. She handed him the container and spoon, before sitting back down.

"You'll have to drag yourself to my place some time to get the rest of the sweets."

"Observations and good guesses. It's a woman's job." Bell said, situating herself on the couch once again. "Besides, the heart and stomach are connected, no?" A smile, true and bright came forth - that smile that adored.

She didn't expect him to know hers. After all, what had she shown? He knew she had an in at the theatre, that she liked music, but what of weaknesses? It wasn't as if she was hiding anything - she wasn't. So what did that say for Bell? Who was she? She'd spent so much of her life playing a role, whether it be on stage or as a senshi, had she even time to be someone?

She was the little girl who had never grown up with parents around. The little girl who had never lived in a house. The little girl who was mocked every time her father's name came up in the tabloids. The kids would come up to her and as 'Who's your mommy now?' and Bell wouldn't know what to say. The little girl. Bell had never been a little girl. She'd never had a real birthday party, never experienced parental love, never had an Easy Bake Oven, or gotten to finger paint. Bell had been many things - a lady, a princess, a witch, a peasant, an orphan, many things. But truly?

Well, if anything, Bell could say she was one thing at the very least - loved. Despite it all.

Bell far from minded being a leaning post. In fact she was perfectly happy to be so. It made for optimum hair playing with range.

Bell gave a light giggle, "That's 'cause its home made." Ice cream maker machines, for the win. Even if it WAS would and took forever. That wasn't to say Bell wouldn't still go out and buy a box of ice cream. After all, convenience was a godsend.

There was a then line between deserving, preference, and propriety.
It would have been proper for Bell to be with a high class, well-moneyed, and snooty son of a business man. Someone with high-society manner. Bell, however, had seen this, and did not like it. Not one bit. In fact, it rather creeped her out and made her feel on edge. Such memories of her run ins with one Mr.Wickham came to mind. If that was what she deserved, than what great offense had she ever committed to get such a sentence?
Bell preferred someone not bound to the strict mannerisms that came with high society, someone free to act as they wished without the worry of being judged by their snooty fellow peers. She preferred someone with the freedom to dream and make their life whatever they so desired..not someone bound to the family business. She preferred someone who knew what it was like to work hard, and had dreams. Someone who had something other than monetary value. She preferred someone like Xavier. And didn't she deserve to be happy?
So, there is a fine, fine line.

"No, it's not hard, just takes a while, and is loud," she said, remembering the shrill sound of the machine. Not that she could make any complaints about noise, considering it was Xavier,.Themis' sphere. Bell giggled, "Unless you count carrying a bag of ice home, hard."

Bell was completely unaware of his current mental conflict. She wasn't pushing for more information than he'd be willing to freely give. Save for her heart-felt concern, she could have been labeled content. Though perhaps she was being idealistic. She was certainly naive. Those crueler would have perhaps labeled it ignorance. Worldly experience wasn't exactly on Bell's side. Unless you counted worlds written by play writes. How much of her life had been lived in make-believe?
The blind leading the blind? Not quite, but it was a close enough analogy. Her life no longer had a script. Or maybe it did, but the only word on it was 'trust.'

Bell giggled like chiming bells, and hugged her arms around him little tighter, "Youma would flee as far away as they could." Whether or not he had been joking, Bell had still found it funny. "And the entire Negaverse would be deafened."

She couldn't discern if his prior expression had been a smile or not. The way the light played with the shadows wasn't very helpful, but whether or not he had been joking, Bell thought some ego-fluffing would do some good, "After all, your sphere is way more bad a** than mine," a fake pout and then, "I'm a little jealous. After all - who ever heard of fortitude as a power?" She jokingly dissed her own sphere.

She just chuckled. Maybe he spear would be more useful if she actually remembered to take it with her half the time. Her attack? It depended on her own determination. And some times she just really didn't give a damn. But, everyone had those days, didn't they?

"You sound sleepy," Bell commented, resting her cheek on the place between his shoulder and neck.

"Sure you aren't," Bell teased, voice soft. Ice cream = world's best sleeping pill? or had it been later than Bell thought it was when she finally broke in? Which...there still hadn't been any mention of that.
"Need me to go, so you can get some sleep?"

"You better," Bell said as she kissed his cheek and eased off the couch. She didn't need to tell him to sleep well - he was already halfway there as it where, it would seem. Cute, Bell thought, as she took a moment to observe, even in the dark.

She didn't bother asking if she could leave through the front door. No, she wouldn't bother him about that. She'd leave the same way she got in.