shadowtruths

[Morpheus didn't miss the redness that crept over Hob's face at his description of the man's dreams. He wanted to say that Hob had nothing to be embarrassed about, that Morpheus had certainly seen worse, but he thought that perhaps prolonging that particular discussion might only make things worse. Best to simply leave it be, and discuss Morpheus entering Hob's dreams at a later time if there was an issue.][At the door he felt Hob's rough, warm hand grasp at his waist and tug him closer. Morpheus couldn't help a look of faint, bemused fondness crossing his face at how Hob reacted to the crowd and how his shoulder turned in to bear the brunt of the people's passing. How Hob once again moved right into protecting Morpheus without a second thought, no matter the Dream King's powers. Those old soldier instincts truly never did go away. Or perhaps this was always a side to Hob, and that had led to him being a good soldier back in the day. It was... sweet was perhaps the word. It was also true that bumping into people was not a social interaction that Morpheus welcomed. Morpheus wordlessly placed a hand on Hob's arm, a silent acknowledgement of his efforts, before they parted. Touch starved for over a century, Morpheus found his thoughts lingering on the contact when only too soon it was gone.]

[At least there was a pleasant topic to fill the space and distract him from what had just transpired.] Did you help fund the repavement, or did you actually provide the manual labor for it? Neither would surprise me, honestly. After this many years, I know you have quite a few tricks and skills up your sleeve.

... I can't believe you built a new inn. [Hob earned a small, fond smile at that, along with some light teasing.] That was almost sentimental of you. Until I realized you wanted an excuse for large breakfasts.