a du mortain who would never admit it but feels mildly offended when they don't get the chance to open the car door for their detective
a du mortain who checks if they've eaten, takes an interest in how to prepare their favorite foods and becomes invested in the detectives longterm health, often to a fault
a du mortain who grips their arms with care as they're guiding a tipsy detective across the parking lot, fending off clumsy affections with a flustered smile before buckling them in and taking them home
a du mortain stern and worried as they stress the importance of car maintenance while fixing up the hatchback yet again after coaxing it back to life on the side of the road earlier
a du mortain who would never admit it, but enjoys the warmth of human life around them as they follow the detective dutifully to any social function they've been dragged to. Sits by their side glaring off unwanted suitors half the time, and spends the rest trying not to wax poetics about the way the detectives thigh is pressed against theirs in the booth where they're sat side by side
a du mortain who rests one hand on the wheel, and another on the detective while driving. Their thigh or hand or otherwise, they like to show off. The sun highlights the hair on their arms and hair which casts them in a fiery glow, eyes bright and unburdened as they glance over at the detective in the leather seats of the car they fixed up together as a project.
