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Obviously she had meant a dried flower, already dead and that would only truly be harmed were it crushed. Which, with all the fighting she was suddenly aware that he was participating in, it was a real possibility. So instead the witch pursed her lips in thought, only to have all the silly other ideas she'd considered fly out of her mind.
"A ribbon it is then!" She chirped, a hand absently reaching for her hair only to remember she had opted out of every fashion choice that morning. For a moment she was put off by this, but it only meant that they would be forced to return to her room later that day. They could usher Binx out easily enough and would have a romantic exchange ceremony of gifts, from knight and princess.
"If you're worried about it getting lost, we could loop it between some of your stitches. You've never lose it that way!" Unless of course the offending limb were to be cut off. And, as a zombie, it was a real possibility. So maybe that wasn't such a good idea.
"What color would you like? Black, pink, red, white? What color is most Belladonna?" She batted her eyes, though that was just for show and not to persuade him into anything. After all, she wouldn't blame him one bit should he chose a ribbon that was anything but pink. Boils weren't necessarily fond of the color...

His own question stumped her, and her lips returned to their pursed, concentrated state.
"I'm not sure... Anything really. It does not matter if its large or small, as I can carry it on my person, easily." Normally she would have motioned to her large skirt, but as it wasn't, she couldn't. So instead, she shrugged and pressed a finger to his chest. "What would you like to give? Any ideas?"

"I am sure red would suit you better." The witch thought aloud, as she contemplated the idea of having a ribbon the exact color of her hair. Certainly it wasn't a difficult feat since she had a grand assortment of ribbons, but it did mean actually having to go through the big hat box she kept them all in. That in of itself was going to be quite the challenge.
Yet all of those thoughts hurried on out of her mind with his kiss. Momentarily shocked, Belladonna was glued to her seat and unable to move. While it wasn't something totally out of the ordinary, the witch had simply not expected him to kiss her back. Surely he still felt that residual anger at her, but his kiss proved otherwise. Not one to pass up affection, Belladonna leaned forward, content to let him do as he pleased. That is, until he pulled away. With one hand still on his chest she was able to pull Mort back and return the kiss, with a little added gusto. If things were good, she wanted them fabulous.

No matter the context, Belladonna's eyes glazed over at the word 'shopping'. Both hands clasped together under her chin as she looked at Mort with wide eyes.
"I would very much like to go shopping with you for a token of favor." She told him, a little too seriously for such a silly topic. As for the broom, the witch looked back momentarily at the thing before she turned back around and shook her head. "I'd rather walk, if that's alright. Its such a short walk and I don't think I have the strength to keep us both afloat." That and she wanted to hold Mort's hand, to walk alongside him. Ever one for metaphors, Belladonna liked the idea of the two of them walking from this dark forest together.
But before she was going to let them leave, they had to hug first. So with a jolt forward, Belladonna plunged forward and wrapped her arms around Mort. She had thrown herself a little hard and hoped he was, once again, strong enough to catch them both.

The brush of sharpened teeth against skin was enough to send a delighted chill through the witch, and that strange little voice that liked it tried to pipe up. The witch stuffed it back down, refusing to let it have its way and ruin this perfect moment. When they pulled back, a quick fingertip brushed against the suddenly tingling little patch on her lip before she smiled at him. Oh, he was a darling thing indeed, and Belladonna would have promised him the moon should he ask for it. So food was absolutely nothing compared to that.
But she had already grabbed him and tossed them both to the forest floor, on pure accident of course. Not really wanting to give the moment up just yet, Belladonna held onto his neck a moment longer.
"Sorry..." She mumbled into his hair before she rose up on one hand, the other pulling some hair off his face. Even though she propped herself up, she let the remainder of herself keep him down. This was an opportunity she wasn't going to let slip by. Now if she had only worn a nice, low-cut top rather than this blasted hoodie! Ugh! Foiled again!!

In any event, the witch smiled down at him, truly happy. It seemed like such trivial matters had bothered them before. Why couldn't they have more moments like this, where they were happy and silly, irreverent and flirting?
"I could go for a bite to eat..." Belladonna whispered as she lowered herself back down and took the teeniest, tiniest n** of his neck. There was absolutely no reason she did it, other than because she could. With that devil's smile, she dropped her chin to his chest and looked up at him, all innocence and sugar.
"The salad was tasty, but I am a bit peckish now. And we can have whatever you want." Was it too late yet to go shopping? Well, considering the maul stayed open rather late for those nocturnal folk, the witch figured they would have plenty of time to find a token of favor.

Far, far better was honestly the simplest version of what Belladonna felt. It felt like a million little treats were fluttering in her stomach, as though she could let go of Mort and float into the clouds. All week she had carried her sadness like a chain, anchoring her to the sad, sad ground. But now, here in the forest with him, all cute and scandalous, the witch felt she could soar. Though she didn't mind being the thing that anchored him down for a few moments more.
A little blush bloomed on Belladonna's face at his grin, a grin she knew only in these happy little moments when life seemed forever a game meant only for the two of them. Pink eyes scanned his face for any indication that he was against them, but only found a sincere acceptance and almost desire.
For a moment she paused, considering her options.
On the one hand, she could be a wonderfully good witch, accept that her dearest was most likely famished and escort him happily to Grubway, where they would both get sandwiches and then go shopping. It would be a lovely evening for everyone involved and they would get to flirt and flounce around merrily and everything would go swimmingly.
But at the same time, that was a little... Not boring, but certainly... Expected. The witch had been good, she hadn't pushed, not for a bit at least. She'd be complacent with everything that had happened and not rushed this. But, honestly given everything they'd been through, this was hardly a push. Merely a bit more flirting.
So Belladonna naturally chose not to be expected.

Instead, she let her lashes fall just the slightest so that her eyes took on a slightly hooded, hopefully seductive apperance. Her voice became spun sugar with just a hint of darkened honey mixed in, and she even did her best to pout without making a duckface.
"But if you want a little bite... It'll hurt in the most glorious way..." Belladonna replied in as hushed a voice as she could muster. Last time he had laughed at her attempts to seduce, so this time she could only hope they would be more well received.
As incentive, the witch lifted her head and let it fall to one side, so that her hair cascaded down her back and left her neck pale and exposed. "One bite can't hurt that bad."
OK so the neck was the only thing could offer right now that was even remotely romantic. It was hard to keep the wince off her face, but Belladonna suddenly remembered how she'd once offered her neck to Mort only to have it refused because of the similarity to vampires. But Hecate, it wasn't like she was going to offer her arm for him to gnaw on. That would have killed every mood in their limited disposal.
And that was simply just not an option!

Silly Mort, you really and truly should have known better.
Uncertain of his internal battle, but possessing a pretty good inkling of it, Belladonna almost gave up. That scared little voice in her head piped up, demanded that she sit up and act like a proper lady! Ladies didn't go about in woods, tackling men and pinning them to the ground, then whisper seductive things in their ears. Hecate, no! Proper ladies kept themselves to themselves, until there were doors to close and curtains to draw and The way he says my name is like a secret sometimes...
When he called her like that, as though he were a drowning man and her name was his last breath of air, well, it was very difficult to listen to that stuffy voice. Besides, that voice was boring and prudish and had mostly kept quiet after all these years, so its sudden resurgence was only something that the witch could easily work to overcome. Along with the idea that all these little voices of herself in her head was totally rational and not at all crazy. Eh, it was a work in progress.
So distracted with her own thoughts, Belladonna was ever so slightly startled when Mort leaned the two of them forward so that they were upright. Her hands involuntarily found his shoulders to steady herself, to comfort him for the inevitable 'no' that was about to come.

Already prepared to entertain his disappointment in himself, Belladonna was not expecting the kiss. Though unexpected, it was still nice so she returned it just in time to be turned away. Eyebrows momentarily darted down in confusion, but cool fingertips brushed away her hair and sent a shiver down her spine that she welcomed with that same old devil's smile. Happy to accommodate, the witch tossed her hair a bit so that the mass of curls hung out and away from her offered neck.
The little press of chilled mouth made her shudder again, but she took a deep breath and held it, anticipation high as she waited.
The moment seemed to stretch out, an infinity contained in one tiny second as the pain began so small that Belladonna almost thought it pleasure at first.
A sound escaped her mouth, broke through the breath and used the air to fuel it so that it was louder and more fragile than she had anticipated. The noise was sure and uncertain all at once and in a flash turned into a gasp as her senses registered exactly what was happening. Quick as her heartbeat her body reacted, fingers dug into Mort's shoulders, muscles tensed and eyes opened in attempt to blink away the exquisite pain. But it wouldn't leave, it wouldn't abate and the witch froze. If she pulled away, she'd rip her skin apart on those razor sharp teeth. If she rose up to meet him, it'd get worse and only feed the part of him that wanted this too. At a later time, she might have done that, when more time had passed and they weren't in the woods, still shiny and new in their relationship. When it was alright if either of them pushed too far, for they would be so secure that they would welcome the desire they invoked in the other. As it were, desire was so startlingly raw, a frightening thing that could devour either of them given half the chance that finally, Belladonna could only let herself squeak out a trembling whimper.

The pain kept on, a sweet, strange remainder of her wish fulfilled. It was wonderful, enough to make the witch let out one last little whimper that was equal parts happiness and worry. She wanted to say something, to let him know she was thankful for this but also to let him know he could let go. There was no where else they could go, nothing else they could do from this point.
But Belladonna still felt the need to talk, to make some sort of noise because that was how she operated, when nervous she spoke.
"Do I taste alright?" Her tentative voice a little thin as she tried her best to stay still against his teeth.
Despite the fact that this was all very scary, as she didn't really want to make a trip to the Nurse's Office, still found this all very exciting. The element of danger intrigued her, mostly because it was safe. Compared to everything else, this was a walk in the park without one's shoes on. It was nice to have something so simple yet complex, so scary yet so comforting.

Mort's rattling, shallow breaths made the witch nervous, made her consider calling this whole thing off. Zombies didn't need air, witches did, and the fact that whatever she had just invoked was making him unhinged enough to force him into the action made her just a little bit worried. And that was not what this was supposed to be. This was supposed to be a moment of surrender, where she gave up her control for him and he retained his. But, like a silly ghoul who refused to learn her lesson, Belladonna still did not realize that control was something neither of them possessed in great enough quantities to do much about it. So she stayed in her spot, frozen and still least she hurt herself by being too passionate. Yet she could still feel her own blood begin to bubble up, to trickle down her neck and onto her shoulders.
A sharp intake of breath was Belladonna's outwardly indicator that she was worried as his mouth closed over her a bit more, but then he was letting go. The moment he'd pulled back, the witch slapped a hand to her neck with another small whimper at the little pricks that stung. She might not be bleeding enough to cause herself any harm, and she had healing spells after all, so that was no real worry. But if she got all bloodied and bruised up, it would certainly make going shopping a little harder.

Yet there was no reverie to be had, no words soothed her and nothing else was given. Only her arm was taken, while Belladonna still held her neck and hoped the bleeding would stop. Pink, uncertain eyes watched Mort as he uncovered her arm, carefully and gently enough that she didn't bother to stop him. The little ribbon of blood against her pale skin didn't bother her one bit, but the traitorous little mewl she let slip by did. That noise was the go ahead that meant he could do whatever he wanted to her. And since this was what she wanted, despite not actually knowing what came next, Belladonna didn't even bother to stop him.
Eyes swept close for a moment as the witch remembered another time with another Mort who had taken what he wanted without asking, though it had been purely out of desire. Now desire certainly played a key factor, but the witch had to think that there was a level of comfort, of actual love in this act. If she could offer a part of herself to him, a part that he could actually take, Belladonna would give.

The pain started again, shocking enough that her fingers flexed suddenly and caused her arm to rise up into his mouth.
"Mort... I...." Belladonna mumbled, but bit down on her lip and couldn't finish. What could she say? Please continue, please rip off whatever part of me? I am weak enough and so in love with you that you can do whatever you'd like?
Belladonna just couldn't, she just couldn't say those things, not yet, not now. Trapped in the moment, she only opened her eyes to watch him. Despite her worry, despite her hesitation, there was a level of enjoyment in this that excited the witch too. It was strange, something she didn't understand, but she welcomed it with enough want that the little worried tilt of her eyebrows melted into a look of curiosity as she watched him and waited for his next move.

Whatever she had expected, whatever imagined scenario she'd had in her mind wasn't this. The witch had expected a sweet kiss on the neck or a nibble on her arm, not a bite big enough to actually rip part of her skin off. It was so strange, to sit there in such a detached manner and watch as her arm was ripped into and then watch a piece of pale skin leave. All that was left was blood, shimmering with hints of pink and the muscle underneath. Wide eyes stared at that little expanse of sinew, fascinated with the sight of it. A bit of blue on the edge of her vision made Belladonna look up and the moment her eyes met Mort's, every sense that had dulled itself came rushing back so fast it hurt. So very, very much.
With a cry the world swam and Belladonna realized too many things at once.
Firstly, this had been a really horrid idea. She was a horrid ghoul who didn't deserve the kindness or love of a boil she continually forced into living out his own hated instincts. Secondly, that the pain had become so fierce she couldn't breath. Thirdly, that the edges of her vision were starting to wilt, to turn black with something she didn't understand. And finally, that all that was making her very, very scared. Scared enough to shake under his careful touch.

"Hecate I'm about--" Was all the witch managed before she plunged to the side, eyes shut tight as she fell forward. The hand on her neck caught her fall, but she still let herself lower to the ground, though the one arm Mort held still stuck out in his grasp as she allowed herself to be bandaged. Her eyes opened and she quickly focused on the stitches of his neck, unable to look at his face and see that guilt she knew all too well. It was a familiar sight, the torment brought on solely by her.
"Don't you dare feel bad..." Belladonna whispered, eyes fluttering for a moment as the blackness closed in. "I wanted this too...This was..." She had to stop and take a breath, it was so hard to remember to breath with all this hurt all over. Her neck smarted, her arm felt absolutely destroyed but worst of all that little pang in her chest had begun again, threatening to keep her lugs airless for her transgressions. "...My fault..." She quietly added, finally able to look up at him, full on. For a moment she felt alright, safe with his hands on her and in his presence. For a moment she could pretend that she were merely falling asleep with him, that the forest floor was her big pink bed and that the hand pressed against her own neck was merely for comfort and not for protection.
But that thought fled as Belladonna opened her mouth to apologize to him, only able to murmur her beloved's name before she closed her eyes and fainted. Perhaps later she would chide herself for such a weak reaction, but she'd always been a dramatic ghoul and hopefully she could tell people later on, should she share the story, that she had swooned at the handsome and lustful sight of her lover.