Ernst signed his name the last time for the day, and stood up gratefully from the desk. He was glad when the very next moment he saw his Ava on the lawn through the French doors. But he was confused, because she was very much on the lawn: she seemed to be wrestling, though she was alone.

He stepped outside with curiosity, and underneath it a little sting of concern that she might be in a seizure of some kind. As he drew nearer he was satisfied that she was simply rolling and stretching on the ground as a dog would – it pleasantly eased and tickled his mind, while it was quite an odd thing to do. She was an odd thing herself.

He came and stood over her with his fists on his hips. She pretended to just then notice him, and rolled her eyes this way and that as if deeply embarrassed.

“Hi!”

“Hm. What’s all this?” he asked. She laughed a little in her sham nervousness.

“I’m a puppy… or a pony… the grass looked so dry and nice…”

“I’m afraid I must put a stop to this behaviour: prepare to be boarded.”

She squeaked, and tried to roll away from him, but he sat down neatly on the small of her back.

“Uuh, oh no…” she groaned. “What now?”

“Now we both relax, in a proper manner.”

“What if I was pregnant?”

“I confidently entrust my progeny to your structural integrity.”

“Ooh…” she groaned again, and made a few attempts to roll him off, which only succeeded in wobbling him a little.

“Please get off?” she asked in a tiny voice.

He leaned back onto his hands luxuriously, and lifted his hips; she crawled quickly forwards and scrambled to a sitting position next to him.

“You’re so heavy,” she whispered with a pout.

“You’re so soft,” he replied, and rumpled her hair in as many directions as he could. She puffed, and began the task of unburying her face from her heavy locks.

“You are trying to… to destroy me.”

He laughed, but leaned closer when he caught her rubbing her waist.

“But I didn’t really hurt you, did I?”

She tried to make her eyes big and tragic as she looked back at him.

“I am scarred for life!”

“Scarred…?”

She laughed at the way his eyebrow moved, and bent her head down into his lap. Then she rolled over, or twisted round, squirming into a comfortable place on him as she had been rolling on the grass at the beginning. From her new nest she smiled up at him pertly.

“Is this proper behaviour, Sir?”

“I verily believe it is so,” he said in a pleasantly laboured tone; “you have fully satisfied me of its propriety.”

She laughed and hugged his middle from where she was. His hard fingers light as feathers, he stroked her hair that had piled against her cheek.

“What a gift you are, my girl.”

2023/02/14 #DailyWrittenOOM #HappyValentinesDay