The Briefly Abandoned and No Longer Christmassy Mansion In The Woods, Monday Afternoon

[deathsmajesty]

The benefits of leaving for a long weekend to explore their new property in Argentina were two-fold. The first was obvious: getting to explore their new property in Argentina. The second, perhaps not equal in value but certainly close, was giving her steward plenty of time to take down the holiday decorations and put them all away without Liliana either of them being bothered with it. Other than a few very specific ornaments they had taken off the tree and boxed before they'd left, Liliana had expected to return to everything Christmas-related to be properly stored away until the next year.

Instead, they were in the parlor, unexpectedly face-to-face with a giant parcel wrapped in at least three different varieties of Christmas paper, with a tiny little silver bow in the center.

"Another belated surprise, darling?" Liliana asked, eying the package that was more than half again as tall as she was. It didn't seem likely, considering the haphazard way it was wrapped, but she didn't have a better guess than that.

[Also, all fuckin' applause and praise to chef_chocobro for this AMAZING WORK OF ART.]

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[deathsmajesty]

LA LA LA THAT CARD HAD CLEARLY BEEN PROMPTO'S IDEA AND NO ONE ELSE'S.

"Oh Ignis, it's lovely." Liliana murmured, stepping forwards to brush gentle fingers over the canvas. He was going to have to wait a moment for those rich tones because she needed a moment to just take it in, her hand reaching out to slide her fingers in through his.

"It's Klimt's The Kiss, but it's us." Her voice was hushed, almost reverent. "Oh my love it's us."

Whether or not he knew of it, he'd still be getting a description, but she wanted to bring his hands to the canvas, so he could touch the strokes and the textures while she narrated it.

[chef_chocobro]

If he'd known it at some point, it had long been lost in his memories, especially since it had likely only been in passing. But Ignis would have ignored all prior knowledge and let it reconstruct itself entirely by Liliana's description and the passing of his fingers lightly over the strokes of paint. And as he did, he realized that, yes, he may have seen it, once or tice, but he could be wrong, and it didn't matter, anyway, because the picture that was in his head now was all that mattered, even if it didn't exactly match what Liliana was seeing. It would stray mostly in detail when his mind was distracted slightly with the way the elaborate patterns in the pant were forming to create a dizzyingly complex depiction of two figures in a passionate embrace. Had Prompto asked that the artist be heavy-handed in their application of the paint, so that he could feel it? Or was it merely incidental, a reflection of the artist's own style? Prompto did sometimes forget about Ignis' affliction, but that was only when he wasn't paying attention. But when he was focused and aware...Prompto had easily been the most attentive to it and the complications that came along with his new sightlessness back when it happened...

He let out a soft huff of air, feeling that sometime all-too-familiar sting of tears in those sightless eyes. Not just for those considerations, but also for just the way Liliana had started it all with that breathy, awed it's us, and that she'd repeated it, letting it linger and echo through the entirety of her description.

It's us.

On the surface, a deft deference to her open narcissism, perhaps, but there were layers of paint on that canvas thicker than that surface level, to be sure.

As he considered the painting, he did so with just one hand, the other refusing to leave Liliana's, and then he gave that hand a fierce squeeze. "Well, I daresay," he said, and there was a little clearing of his throat, because saying anything just then apparently required a little bit of effort just getting the words out, "he's rather outdone himself, hasn't he?"

Everyone, please be proud of the fact that he did not voice any concerns about how it must have cost him a fortune and boggling over how in the world he would have been able to afford such a thing, but he was easing that particular worry with a reminder that, surely, Prompto had just been exceptionally resourceful with some of the connections he'd made in the artistic world through his freelance photography work...

[deathsmajesty]

Honestly, Ignis. The man had seventeen jobs and the living expenses of a resident of Fandom. He'd be fine, surely. Let him express his feelings via pocketbook if he wished to!

"Indeed," she said, moving so that she could rest her back against his chest, wrapping his arm around her, their clasped hand resting on her waist. "It's...were I capable of being humbled, my darling, this just might do it. As a bribe to not get Noctra a pony it is...substantial."

Light comments. Jokes. One could almost believe that she'd gotten over her emotional reaction to the painting...assuming they knew her only on a surface level as well. "We'll have to put it over the fireplace in here, I think. It's too lovely to be hidden away in our bedroom."

[chef_chocobro]

Wrapped around Liliana now with his head bowed toward her, Ignis faint chuckle reverberated against her shoulder. "Ah, yes," he murmured, "of course it all comes down to that blasted pony."

There was no trace of ire in his voice, only amusement and something far deeper, a fondness of sorts, though that seemed such a pale word. Even devotion didn't quite seem to cover it. But whatever it was, there was a moment where he kissed that favored spot, in that hollow before her elegant neck met her graceful collarbone, and there, followed by a sigh, he just held that moment.

Not for any grand stretch of time, though, barely lengthy at all, before he was drawing away, but only just enough to gently guide Liliana to turn his way. There was no waste in bringing their bodies pressed together again, with hand lifting to her cheek, in a mirroring of the positions there on the painting that proved the effectiveness of her description, only lips sought to meet lips, rather than just the cool flush of her cheek.

"You know I trust your eye for design implicitely, my love," he said, once lips departed lips again, albeit just barely.

[deathsmajesty]

"Don't tell him," she whispered, lips brushing against his, "she's still not quite old enough for a pony yet. We have to get her used to horse etiquette and riding first, before getting her one of her own."

Which, while true, was of less importance than what she did next, which was close even that slight gap between their mouths for a second kiss, just as deep and ardent as the first.

"Truth be told...I'd been idly thinking about a portrait," she admitted when they'd once more pulled away to that half-breath distance. "Though they don't seem to be much of a thing on this plane. Are they moreso on Eos?"

[chef_chocobro]

Idly thinking, she said, as if having oneself immortalized with one's paramour on canvas was just some lightly passing fancy, as if the mere thought of it didn't just send his chest into an aching riot of his heart doing acrobatics against his ribcage. A feeling that was no doubt expressed in the faint grunting quality that his usual sot, thoughtful hum seemed to adopt.

"In certain circles," he answered, "they were; I'm sure you can imagine which ones. But even before the collapse of everything with the Long Night, they were already beginning to fall into an antiquated fashion, just like with here, in the rise and development of photography."

Here, he let out a soft breath of an amused laugh, which surfaced more in his smile than anything, forehead resting against Liliana's. "Ironic, then, that we've a photographer to thank for this one."

[deathsmajesty]

Did you doubt, foolish man, that Liliana would pass up any form of immortality she could trap you in?

"Perhaps, then, we should repay him by having him take a more traditional and formal portrait," she mused, tapping the side of her chin in thought. "And whether we keep to that or pass it along to another artist to commit to paint, it saves us hours of time posing. How terribly efficient, no?"

She was, of course, thinking 'both.' After all, she had how many properties now? And how many more might they add?

"Kiss me," she added, solely for the pleasure of his mouth on hers.

[chef_chocobro]

Ignis was about to comment in agreement to this plan or compliment Liliana in appreciation for her continued dedication to efficiency, but, well...he always had been particularly good at following instructions when given to him, and that one was hardly one she even needed to make. Especially when his mouth on hers was unquestionably the best thing his mouth could be doing in that particular moment.

And so kiss her he did, a kiss worthy of the instruction that inspired it, deep and longing and grateful, to put any attempted depiction of such a kiss, even the spectacular one before them now, to utter shame.