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'Fascinating' seemed the only word within the witch's wide vocabulary to describe the feel of her boilfriend under her hand. Bones were not something she was familiar with in the least bit, so gentle fingertips brushed against them once more, just for the sensation. Odd, but not in an unfortunate way. The chill infected her hand and made her feel a bit tingly, so she only continued her little exploration, dedicated to find every new bit of skin that was cooler than what she had previously touched.
Preoccupied with her little indulgence, Belladonna was caught off guard enough that she laughed at Mort's altogether cheesy line. It wasn't a very big laugh, but enough to break the spell of this game they had been playing. Already prepared to admit defeat, the witch snuck her other hand under his shirt.
"Nothing, hmm? That sounds a bit like a challenge."

At the mention of better tricks, the witch breathed in quickly through her nose and tried something altogether new. He wanted better, he got better. Opening her mouth a little wider, she closed her teeth a little more over his skin and pressed her tongue against flesh. Surprise colored her face as she pulled away, not at all expecting such a taste, especially not something so stark as the taste of salt water. Recovering quickly she turned her surprise to coyness as she gazed up at him.
"Then you simply have no other choice than to show me."
Yet eternally curious, the witch wanted another taste. Had that been a fluke, or had the taste of undead flesh really mingled with such a strange and different flavor? Or perhaps, was that were that familiar scent originated from? Trying to be subtle, Belladonna drew in a deep breath that she covered with a bit of heaving chest, though she silently analyzed his scent. Perhaps there really was a bit of the ocean mixed in, or perhaps her senses had simply gone faulty with all this passion in the air.

Dear Hecate was he giggling.
It was certainly the strangest thing Belladonna had ever seen her boilfriend do, but it was also something that excited her mischievousness, a side of her that didn't get to come out and play altogether too often. Now that she knew a weakness, now that she knew she could have quite a lot of fun, the witch only let the most evil of grins overcome her as she took a step forward. A tiny cackle slipped out, one that promised more should things go according to plan.
Not willing to let him get away, the witch followed him, one hand grabbing at his shirt and yanking up as the other darted back around him to continue, only this time she moved her fingers in earnest.

"I've never heard a zombie giggle before!" She told him as another cackle escaped, as the witch yanked him forward toward her and held him close. "Is your back the only place, or are you ticklish anywhere else?!" Belladonna asked, all but maniacally laughing now, as laughter was rather contagious.
It was odd, usually the 'stop' would have made her shrink back and quit everything altogether. But oh no, Mort you shouldn't have laughed. Now Belladonna would knock you down if need be to continue such a fun pasttime.
Romantic? Pish! Tosh! In a flash the witch had given up on that whole route, more content to hear her lover laugh some more. It was a rare thing, really, something that she dearly enjoyed but never got enough of. Perhaps that was way she was so adamant about her tickling him. Or maybe it was just because she really had a bit of the devil in her and she like tormenting him just the slightest.

By now she was full out cackling, the instinct so deep seeded within the witch from eons of witchy women that she did it surprisingly well. Later on she might consider using it in the Human World, should she ever decide she wanted to work there more, but for now she only used it to fuel her devilish tendencies.
The fact that Mort was trying to get away made the chase all the more sweet. Honestly, he should have known that when prey runs, its much more fun.
"Hold still!" Belladonna told him, totally ignoring the partial bit of her name he'd gotten out. All she knew was the hunt. For tickles.
Of course, the fact that he was fighting her meant she had to try harder, mostly because he was taller and stronger than she, but the witch did a fairly good job. One remained happily prodding his skin while the other kept a good hold on his shirt.

That is, everything went well until the witch pushed a bit too hard on the backside of his rib and felt a fingertip hit bone. And not barely covered bone, but full on, she felt her fingernail scrape against something hard bone. Instantly the witch stopped, eyes wide and face contorted into worry. She even messed up tickling.
"Oh Hecate, I... Um, I punctured your skin a little." Of course, that meant she had to pull her fingers out, but but buuuutttttt!
The only natural reaction Belladonna could possibly have was the shout "I'm sorry" as loudly and as quickly as she could in great repetition as she pulled free her hand, let go of his shirt and back up against the wall.
Zombies were notoriously sensitive about their ability to be so easily puncture, especially by Reaper hands, so the witch felt as though she had crossed a horrific line indeed. Surely she had destroyed everything, every beautiful thing they'd ever had, she had happily mangled with one little hole.

Waitaminutwaitaminute hey wait what.
Belladonna blinked at the zomboil before her, hands drawn up tight under her chin. Why was he laughing even more? What was going on!?
Eyes wide, the witch watched him for a few moments before he fell to the ground and the witch went after. It wasn't like Mort could just get down on the floor and not have the witch overreact about that too. So while he laughed, Belladonna sat down in front of him, her face drawn up in three shades of confusion, pouting and a small smile. It was more difficult to pout and smile at the same time, until finally the witch burst out laughing at his very, very bad joke.
"That was terrible!" But she kept laughing in any event, one hand suddenly out to push him.
It was so odd to hear him laugh, so openly and loudly, that Belladonna almost stopped her own laughter just to hear his a bit better. Even though she wasn't aware of it, the witch's laughter did dim a bit as she watched Mort laugh, subconsciously in the act of burning this particular memory into her head forever. If everything else was lost, if she could remember nothing else but this moment, the witch wanted to remember Mort sitting on her floor, so constricted with laughter that he could hardly speak.

Of course, the moment passed and Belladonna snuck a bit closer, that mischievous tilt back.
"You don't laugh enough..." She began, her fingers outstretched toward him. They wiggled a bit, but she wasn't quite sure if she was ready to re-begin this torment. Perhaps it was better left to unexpected moments, now that she knew this particular weakness.

Unused to such an easy smile, it caught Belladonna off guard enough that she didn't bother to dodge his hands. Distracted by the sudden pounding of her heart, she allowed herself to be pulled in, didn't even question fighting him as her back met his chest. It was comforting, so she only sat like a good little witchling, her hands mostly to herself. She kept one of his hands between both of her own, a bit childlike as she cozied up to him. At his observation she dropped her head against his shoulder, cheek pressed to his neck.
"Tired? Mmm, not yet. I have slept quite a lot this past week." Oh yes, because she had been sad and alone and sleep so easily cured those emotions. It had been quite an emotional day to say the least, so now that she really stopped to consider it, Belladonna could feel the little tendrils of weariness at the very edges of her being, as though they nibbled happily on her aura, still far removed from her body.

"With you, my schedule is always full." It was meant to be cute, but the witch only left it at that and stared absently at her ceiling. "Are you tired?" She asked a little absently, as though she were considering something else for the moment. After another tick of thought she leaned forward a little, bringing her knees up to her chest, though she remained pressed against Mort's chest. Momentarily her face blushed, but she only angled her head up a little, so she could at least spy part of his face.
"Things get rough a lot, but... I make you happy, right?" The question felt so out of the blue that it surprised her too, but she was looking up at him in earnest, hoping for the truth. It had been a day of trust, so why not continue on with it a bit more?

Opposites they certainly were, as the witch hadn't done a jackdamned thing this entire week. Except for cry or sleep in copious amounts. Perhaps having all that sad weight off her shoulders had freed up her energies to the point that she could run for days. Or maybe given the right offer, she would fall asleep as fast a kitten on a warm pillow. It would have to be a very tempting offer, of course.
Still, she was glad to be so happily wrapped up, chill from all sides. A contented sigh fell from the witch as she relaxed, the muscles in her shoulders unclenching for what felt like the first time in weeks.
As for his reply, Belladonna smiled softly to herself. It was rather true, she supposed. Had he decided she made him unhappy, he simply would never have returned, or have ever returned to her all these times. After all, one of the first promises he had made to her was that he'd return to her. Before, when they were still just friends, she'd made him swear he'd come back to her. How could she have ever doubted him after that? But still she gave a soft giggle at his kiss, before she tilted her head away to look at him better.

"Aren't I always waiting for you to come back?" Belladonna asked with a soft smile. If this had all been too much to handle, wouldn't she have refused to answer the door, or his texts, or even have let Binx know where to find her? A bit of color blushed her cheeks, but the witch kept on, as talking was one of her stronger suits. "Mort, you always give me such happiness. I l-love--being with you!" More color leaked into her face as the witch realized how close she had been to making this moment something far more serious than she had anticipated. Quick to cover she leaned in and pressed a kiss to his mouth, while her heart felt as though any moment it was going to run from her body. Now that she'd almost said it, almost given life to those words, Belladonna couldn't quite decide how she felt about all that.
Obviously she felt them, or else she wouldn't have almost slipped up, but now that her reaction to it was so frightened, maybe she wasn't so sure? Or was it just that it wasn't the right moment, not the right time?
Not wanting to let her sudden nervousness be seen in any way, the witch set her face forward and tried to slow down her frantically racing heart.

Glad that the only response her strange little deluge had warranted was a rather good kiss, Belladonna felt her heart slow down just enough to be considered slightly above normal, and was content to lean against the zombie. Unknowing of his thoughts, the witch was happy to just sit there in relative peace for a moment. Before she considered this night to be a singular experience, something to cherish forever due to the fact that their lives had become so tumultuous that they would rarely receive such quiet, pleasant moments together. But now that they were here, perfectly at ease to just sit quietly on the floor with nothing to bother them, no worries to be had, not even anything altogether pressing to do, it was... Oddly encouraging. Perhaps Belladonna didn't want this always, maybe on one hand she liked the fact that they were always up to something, always going, always doing, but she also very much enjoyed the idea of that, mixed in with a soft dabble of rest, of relaxation, of simple cuddles.
Oh yes, the witch wanted exactly what she had very much.

"Of course, I'm glad you liked it." Belladonna replied, softly as she too had been considering just how lucky she was to have Mort. As much as she hated being so terribly weak that it took a boil to bring her out of her sorrows, as well as that same boil to put her back into them, Belladonna still couldn't find it within herself to change any of that. Without Mort, she truly would have been a lost little thing. "It took me three tries to get it right." It was a silly confession, but one she felt he needed to know. She was dedicated to him and this relationship, even if the show of her dedication was something as small and silly as a cake.
Yet the mention of the upcoming festival, of Mort's interest in Student Council perked the witch back up to a relatively normal level of curiosity and gleefulness. An easy smile came as she leaned her head back to his shoulder, and she even wiggled a little in his arms that would have been a bounce on any normal occasion.
"Secretary, hmm? And here I thought I would have played that role." She winked and quickly hurried onto the next set of words. "Of course you have a chance! You're excellent at planning things and that's what that would be. Others would come up with ideas for the school and you'd sort them out. It sounds absolutely perfect for you! And you're marvelous, with plenty of friends." Because, as much as she hated to admit it, Student Council really was just a popularity contest. "You've been involved in the school quite a lot and made a good number of friends and allies. I am sure you would succeed in this endeavor!"

Speaking of booths, though the witch had indeed locked herself up in her room for half of the week, and spent the other half moping in the forest, she had at least had the wherewithal to notice the signs going up for Fright Night. And the fact that those signs had spoken of clubs, and having a booth. She'd even received a text from Lizzy about a certain club... But it was still a touchy subject, so the witch dropped her head from Mort's shoulder to let it fall forward onto her knees, eyebrows momentarily crumbled in a combination of melancholy and concentration.
"I was thinking of having a booth for the festival too... But, there was this club I used to be a part of that never really did much and I'd like to revive it... Only, I was co-president with Israfel and he's... You know..." Here she paused and pursed her lips a bit, uncertain of what exactly she was trying to say. "Do you think it'd be really awful of me to resurrect the club? I helped run it... But... Without Israfel it might seem... Weird?" Obviously she hadn't decided, or else she wouldn't still be waffling about this. And Belladonna hated that. Using instinct and emotions as her guide was easy when things were straight forward, as they usually were. So when things weren't, it was vastly upsetting and certainly strange to navigate oneself.

Apparently it was. Most things the witch had hoped for really did come in threes, after all she was the third daughter and she'd turned out rather well. Maybe the witch would have to start subscribing to the power of three more often.
In any regard, the witch giggled softly at the joke that went above Mort's head, but certainly didn't press further on it. It was probably best he'd missed that particular joke...
"You're wonderful at paperwork!" She chirped in a faux-excited voice, along with a very tiny bounce. "That's very responsible of you as well. But I think you'll enjoy it, should you, as you most certainly will, win! And it'd be a great way to contribute to the school." Not like you don't contribute enough already.
It was a bitter thought that couldn't have been stopped even if she wanted to, but the witch kept up her smile anyways.

The hand against her hair was comforting, enough so that Belladonna relaxed a little and tilted her head in the direction of his hand. It had been extremely difficult for the witch to hear of Israfel's passing, and in such a way had certainly added to the witch's melancholy. Though they had never been particularly close, the witch had still had a conversation with the Siren before he had gone on, one that would always stick in her mind, especially considering the fact that he'd given himself up to the Hunters. It was so strange to think on that now, given their conversation, but the witch only nodded gently at Mort's suggestion.
"That's true..." She mumbled a little absently, deep in her thoughts for the moment. Certainly it was something she needed to think over, but he was right. As usual.
A small smile broke through and the witch heaved a sigh before she angled her head back to press another kiss to the boil.
"You're the best."