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Hel knew this wasn’t going to be good as soon as Mot had to clamp his hand over his mouth after he smirked. She paused in smoothing out the blankets and just glared. at him. “Mot.” She warned, “Don’t you da—“

Too late.

She scowled, loudly, and crossed her arms as Mot lost it, the worst pout he had seen yet on her face as her head snapped to the side and her cheeks flushed a bright red. “You’re such a gentleman.” She grumbled, sitting there like that for a moment longer before she grabbed one of the pillows and smothered him with it for a moment before releasing it. The youngest valkyrie scowled again as she flopped back onto one of the bed rolls, glaring up at the ceiling. “Yes, you laugh now. Get it all out tonight.”

Once Freya was free of the house itself, she slowed down at Herryk's request, and her eternal scowl finally started to soften.

"Sorry." She whispered quietly, hooking her arm under his and resting her head on his big, muscled shoulder. "I just. That place." She shuddered, turning to place a kiss on his bicep.

"Anyway...so this is where I grew up. I'll shows yeh all the exciting spots, ja? Like the hay where a foal was born." She chuckled, the sarcasm dripping from her voice. She was mostly trying to avoid the pumpkin question, though.. but eventually, she'd have to deal with it. Time for the short version.

"Herryk, when a boil and a ghoul loves each other very much, they gets married and gets together and has a scareling. That is what the pumpkins is for. Papa was talkings about.. uh.. havings babies." She patted his arm gently. "He is not a subtle mans."

"I'm s-s-sooorrryyyy---" Mot attempted an apology while laughing. "No r-really I MMMPPH-" Mt flailed underneath the pillow he was being smothered with, eventually pretending to die until Hel released him. Once she did, he sat up, still smirking.

"Sorry, sorry! I'm all done." Mot promised, waving his hand. Honestly? He was excited to see her in a dress, he just didn't want her to know that. It was just so hard to imagine! "I promise not laugh, take pictures or use the C word. I swear on it." Mot made a motion of a cross over his heart to prove it.

Secretly, deep down, she wasn’t entirely upset about him laughing at her, and she wondered if he ever laughed this hard with Lizzy. Hel grimaced a bit more before shaking her head. The ghoul looked up at him from where she was sprawled out on the roll as he sat up.

“Yeah? You better promise, or I’ll clock that handsome face of yours with my flower basket.” She stuck her tongue out at him then. “That’s a promise.” The reaper huffed again, her scowl lessening a lot more now. “…I suppose we’re winding down for the evening now…the bathroom is down the hall and to the right here on this floor if you need it, alright?” The reaper pulled herself into a sitting position, and looked over nearby to find her bag. Oh! How did it get there? No doubt courtesy of her mother, probably. Mot’s bag was there too. Hel pulled the bag closer to her, and dug through it until she found her tunic night top and bottoms. “Did you want to go first, or I?”

Freya's grin rose and turned mischievous, as she reached around and showed him exactly how grabby the Brynhildr sisters were. "So? Yeh shoulds be used to it by now, with me as yehr ghoulfriend. Not that I wants any of my sisters getting to grabs the stuff I grabs, though."

She snickered and rested her head on his chest, rubbing her cheek against the taut skin there. "No. I'm not ready. Just.. just a little more."

He could almost hear her lips purse. "Plus, you still has to gives me my present. Now is a good time, yes?"

Herryk laughed loudly, shaking his head at her antics.

He sobered swiftly when she mentioned her present.

"Freya, this is a very serious matter. A very serious present." He lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug. "Herryk... wants to be the very best boilfriend. Lattice, long ago, taught Herryk about a poem called a haiku." Herryk cleared his throat.

"Then Herryk was curious about other poems and he bought a book. Tch," he grunted, reaching for his pack. He withdrew a thick pink book and from the book he puled a folded up piece of parchment.

"This is Freya's present," he whispered, reaching for her hand so that he could place the paper in it.

Freya smirked gently when he got so serious, but the pink book threw her off completely. What was he even doing with a pink book?! It made her infinitely curious, but apparently her present was just a slip of paper, not the whole book. She took the paper, lifted it and unfolded it, while looking up warily at Herryk.

"Well, ah, thanks yeh." She murmured before she had finished opening it. Her eyes finally lowered to read the words, and her expression melted. Wary confusion turned into glowing, heartbreaking adoration, as she took in each word. She read it twice, and kept her eyes on the paper while she let the meaning behind it digest.

Herryk had only been in her life a short time, and never had she felt like this before. She realized, with startling clarity, that she had been wrong all along. She thought she had known what love meant. She really thought she had a clue. But right now, as she read Herryk's poem a third time, she realized she had been in the dark herself until this very moment.

And standing right in front of her, shrouded in the darkness of the night and of his own skin, was her very own sun.

She finally looked up at him, and felt like she was looking at him through new eyes. She folded the paper carefully, tucked it away in a safe place, and pushed up on her tiptoes. Her arms reached out to curl around Herryk's neck, pulling him down to her level, and when their eyes met, she could see it shining down at her like an impossible beacon.

That was love.

"I loves yeh, Herryk."