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A breath caught in the witch's throat as his eyes slowly moved downward and she found herself suddenly overcome with nervousness in a way she hadn't before. It was strange that now that this was her Mort, that she worried what he thought or if he liked what he saw. (Er, or could fuzzily see? She couldn't be sure how much he could or could not see.)
"Its alright... This dress is ruined, but it was a prototype..." She paused and couldn't help but pose just the tiniest bit. "Did you at least like it?" There wasn't much left, hardly even worth it to pull up the front and show it off, so the witch left it down around her waist. As for the cold... Honestly, she had been so concerned with making sure everything with him was alright that Belladonna had totally and completely forgotten the cold. The only difference in temperature she knew was his own and she had willing sought that out. For a moment Belladonna looked down at her lap, trying to consider whether she was really cold or not. After another moment, she was glad he couldn't see altogether that well...

Yet in reply to finding his glasses, the witch clapped her hands together happily and chirruped an affirmative reply. A deep breath was taken as she executed a rather flowy hand movement before her eyes swept close.
"Whatever is lost, upon my command be found." She intoned in as a dramatic a voice as possible. The tips of her fingers glowed a dull pink and from somewhere in the room, a small shaking was heard before with a start Mort's glasses appeared for a brief moment before they clacked harmlessly to the ground and slid halfway toward the witch. She rolled her eyes and reached out for them, snatching them up easily and offering them to Mort.
As for the blanket, she'd wait one more moment as there was something she was more curious about.
"There was a noise... Underneath your bed. It sounded like glass. And when it... Did whatever... It sounded like it hurt you..." Her face had contorted with worry, lips pursed and eyebrows puckered. "What was it?" One finger twitched and the witch almost brought her hand up to enact their little secret message, but stopped herself. Already she knew that's what it was, already she was aware of the fact that even though she asked, he most likely couldn't tell her.
That was most frustrating of all. Secrets, more secrets and even more were continually piled on. Another seed of doubt wiggled within the witch and she prayed that she could trust the boil enough and not let those seeds bloom.

The witch beamed at the compliment, her mind already at work on how she could improve, what additions could be made, any and everything in between.
As for her magic, it hadn't necessarily been necessary, but it was just something the witch wanted to try out. Magic was a funny thing and took quite a bit of trial and error before one found their perfect magic style. Maybe invocation wasn't really suited for Belladonna, but she would never know until she tried.
At his reply, Belladonna nodded with a small shrug. It was more or less as she had figured, but it certainly hadn't hurt to ask. If she asked enough, they might be able to skirt around it enough that the witch could get a better idea of how this all worked. So she couldn't be involved, couldn't pledge her allegiance to the cause and fight in the same way, nor know the secrets. But she could know enough to put herself in danger, or help save the day. There was always one of two ways it could go.

A slow blink was her initial reply to his remark and she inadvertently sucked in a breath that caused her chest to heave. A heavy blush bloomed on her cheeks, and her heart suddenly speed up. That nervous feeling returned, but it brought with it a strange, exhilarating, almost excited feeling too.
"Well, whaddya know... You're right."
No... Really. What did they do next? The opposite, Evil Mort had shoved and pushed and taken what he wanted, but did Belladonna offer what both Mort's wanted? Was that... Pushing too far?
Uncertain, a little afraid of his reaction but still too full of that strange, heady feeling she leaned forward just the tiniest bit, as though she were about to ask for a kiss.
"Is there anything you'd like to do next?"
They had crossed a bridge, yes, but there wasn't anything wrong with crossing it again now that consent could be fully given. Right? Or was Belladonna still trying to live in her fairy tale world where things always went right?

Seriously, really and truly one day Belladonna was going to learn to read minds so she could correct this little miscommunication they were about to enact. Poor Belladonna, just a simple ghoul. She would have been totally fine with a bit fun on Second Base, really and truly. Sure, she enjoyed her romance novels and eventually wanted what they spoke of, but she was prepared to wait. Really, she was!
Unfortunately, such a lusty ghoul gave extreme thoughts and had she known what Mort thought she meant, or even what he was going to show her, she would have waved her hands and told him it was alright to wait. She wanted to push, but not that far.
In any regard, the witch's blush dropped considerably and confused about what he meant, she only gave him a warm smile.
"Whatever it is, I promise not to laugh or freak out."
In all reality, Belladonna figured he was speaking of something else involving his Knightly Duties.

Ooohhh! Maybe he was going to show her that little glass thing under his bed, or perhaps his mark had morphed into something else. Whatever it was, Belladonna's mind raced to cover every possible outcome except for what was inevitably coming. Jack, was she in for a doozy.
Mentally the witch prepared herself with a deep breath before she calmly folded her hands in her lap and waited with a smile for her dearest boilfriend.

Patiently and placidly, the witch sat there, expectant and totally unaware of what would happen next. It was a bit unfortunate that for all her play at being well versed in certain subjects, she really had no experience and therefore no expectation, or even anything to base anything off of. Which meant that when he pointed to the little bit of decay on his torso, the witch only nodded sympathetically.
When his hand inched downward, still she did not understand.
But when flesh met metal and she realized he was going to take off his pants, Belladonna's eyes widened considerably.
Oh Hecate, seriously?! Is this... Is this what everyone does?!
The witch took a deep breath to steady herself, to keep from freaking out. Though she couldn't offer him a smile, she could at least keep her face from looking as horror stricken as she felt.

And then...
"Oh... So... OH." Before she could stop it, the witch sighed heavily in relief. A hand slapped against her chest, suddenly lightweight and free of the fear she had previously felt.
Quickly she realized how awful her sigh could look, so a hand shot out to his arm where she placed it as comfortingly as possible.
"Oh Mort, that's fine. Really! I'm definitely not ready for that, not now and not for a while... So..." Belladonna paused and offered him a small, sheepish smile. There was so much embarrassment Mort felt towards his body that she simply could not fathom, nor really sympathize. The witch absolutely adored her own, realizing how very blessed she was in all ways, shapes and forms. There was a reason she dressed like she did, because she was proud. But Mort couldn't say the same, and that was so strange to the witch that she couldn't help but want to help.
"You're still extremely attractive, and I still like you. A lot. But that... That can wait. Later, when we're ready we'll discuss it or whatever you're comfortable with." Another smile was offered to him, along with a friendly arm squeeze. "We can still have fun, you know. With... Other stuff!"

Maybe not like, everything fun, but they'd work around that. Whenever.
It was such a shock and relief, Belladonna didn't know what to do. And all those crazy thoughts, that wanted to offer help vied for competition, so much so that she couldn't stop herself as she offered advice.
"And if you decide one day you want to go further, then you can, yanno, build your own! You did really well with your arm!"
Instantly the witch's face burned a heavy red and she was torn between laughing at her stupidity and running away. Instead she only tried not to do either and ended up looking worried, but hopeful that what she hadn't offended him, or embarrassed him further.

Totally oblivious to the near 404 she'd given her boyfriend, Belladonna sat there, proud of her advice. Her face began to fall a bit as he switched between horror and relief, for she wasn't sure which one was better.
Had she known what he really thought, the witch would have certainly offered him the knowledge that one day, he'd really want that. Because obviously, who could date this lusty witch and not want that? That's what she thought and felt it held true for others. This was merely a bump in the road and not the end of the line.
When he groaned, the witch dropped her hands from him and covered her own face. Suddenly it came upon her that maybe that wasn't such a good idea.
"Oh Hecate, that was really stupid wasn't it? Oh jacking hell, I am so sorry I didn't even--" Here the witch dropped her head and shook her face wildly, wholly embarrassed. So much for making him feel good about himself.

In attempt to make up for it, to bring the subject back around to something she could make better, the witch quickly dropped her hands from her red, red face and bounced.
"Second base is great!" Maybe she bounced a bit too much, given the fact she only wore an itty, bitty undercorset.
Aw, batshit. I'm going to mess this up too! We've come so far and now here I go, screwing it up ggrrrr! The rest of that thought was unintelligible growling.
Regardless, the witch breathed a sigh and nodded softly.
"Its alright. Really, I don't mind. Its not that big of a deal..." Not yet. Maybe later it will be. "So, stop this moping about, ok?" She leaned forward for a kiss, hoping she could at least distract him from himself with her own body. That was always the answer!

Appropriate reaction gif:



~*~*~*

Gratefully, and certainly a little lightheaded, Belladonna accepted the blanket and pulled it tight around herself. She liked his chill, she did, but she was beginning to feel a little raw from it and welcomed the warmth of the blanket. A small giggle escaped the witch as she reached up to adjust his glasses, her face having almost become permanently red.
"Yes, I'm afraid so. Other Mort really did a number on my dress." The witch picked up the discarded garment (petticoat and bloomers still on, thank you very much) and held it up by the shoulders and watched with pursed lips as the whole back fell in on itself, having been nearly ripped out. With a sigh the witch clutched it close, sad for all that wasted fabric.
But it would do nobody any good to wallow in that, so Belladonna only scooted off the boil and made herself comfortable next to him, blanket clutched happily around her.

With a small, contented sigh she dropped her head to his shoulder and rested there, happier than she could say. Her eyes swept closed and for a few moments she was quiet, unmoving and very much spent.
But her curious, chatty ways were hard pressed to stay that way and after a moment she opened her eyes with a slow blink.
"You mentioned Alexander's boilfriend was one of the ones taken... Is he alright? How are they?" Surely the couple would have been just fine, for surely their's was a harder test than the one suffered between Mort and Belladonna. The witch reasoned that with one boil so close to being gone forever that the other must have realized his worth and thus, in her mind, they confessed passionate love for the other.
That and mostly she wanted to know if she and Mort were an anomaly, or if other couples were doing about the same given the circumstances.

Totally unaware of what exactly it was she was asking, Belladonna watched him stand and walk away. Her head titled a little at his words, confused.
Bu-but! Didn't everyone confess passionate love after something like that? Wasn't that how it always went? Life really was like in all her books... Right?
Shirt taken and hastily put on, Belladonna pondered his words as she tugged the shirt over her head. It fit well enough, though like most of his shirts, was a little snug around the bust, the witch figured it wasn't too big of a deal and shrugged the blanket back onto her shoulders.
"True..." She finally conceded with a meek nod. "I just... Wanted to make sure they were ok." She added softly, dropping her eyes. It was rather wrong of her to ask, especially since things were so happy lately.

In attempt to lift the mood, she wiggled under his arm like an excitable puppy and tilted her head so that all her hair fell to one side.
"So I heard that they're doing Battle of the Bands soon! You gonna try out? You know I participated one year, right? It was such fun!" There, that should lighten the mood considerably. The witch could happily tell him about the time she got to play a cat-shaped guitar and help sing Spanish songs and then actually fight... They hadn't won, but it had still been fun...