"I want to sit on their lap and feed them grapes." For Briar/Tamlin?
Tamlin had been in a better mood than he’d been since Lucien had seen him with Feyre. It might’ve even been before that, and the longer he sat at tea with his oldest friend, the more he was sure of it.
Tam had little braids in his hair here and there, with small flowers twisted in. He was even humming.
“Alright, Tamlin, tell me what’s going on.” Lucien inwardly cringed at how direct he was.
“I met her, old friend,” Tamlin’s eyes twinkled, “I might my mate.” He sipped his tea, “I finally understand why Feyre could leave me for that scoundrel, though I can’t forgive her for everything she did. Still,” he sighed happily, “I understand a little better now.”
Lucien watched him warily, “Who are you and what have you done with the high lord I served under.”
Tamlin laughed a hearty laugh. It sounded like bells. Lucien blinked. “I’m telling you, Lucien. It’s like I’ve never abren before. She makes me so happy. It’s so simple with her. We read books in silence. We swim under the sun. We make love by fire places. All I want to do is be with her. I want to dance with her. I want to hold her while she cooks. I want to,” he laughs because he can’t think of something else, “I want to sit on her lap and feed her grapes.”
At this, Lucien cannot help but burst into laughter. With a considerable amount of joy, he realizes that Tamlin is laughing with him.
A soft scent finds its way through the doorway and Lucien turns with Tamlin to see the small mortal, Briar, leaning against the door post, a bemused smile on her face, “Well I’ll certainly make a note of that. I’m sure we can squeeze time in for sitting on my lap and feeding me grapes.”