“Alright, Princess,” he mutters, when he finally feels the first tendrils of The Hive reaching for him and his eyes alight on the red-yellow sign of one of their street-level eateries.
He shifts her so she can burrow deeper into his hold. “If you ever had any fleas, the river drowned them good and I don’t have to be disappointed that a life on the street made it hard for you to uphold your royal standards.”
A wet, cold, nose presses against his collarbone in response and Satori feels it when she tucks herself carefully into the space he gives her. A warm, gentle weight pressing right against the beat of his soft, dumb, heart- already nine-tenths in love with her.