No, it's too early for this.
Too early in the day for those thighs upon the corner of Robin's desk, balancing cross-legged while Inigo rests on one hand and paws at her tome with the other, apparently unashamed in the privacy of a quiet tent.
"It's the Day of Devotion, Robin."
"Yes, but don't the meaningful festivities occur later in the evening?"
"Day, my darling, D A Y. Surely, a studious woman such as yourself knows the definition of that term to be from one dawn until the next?"
She sighs, still grasping back at her book and attempting to pay attention to the pages. "I've made time for our plans, I promise. But I need to feel I've gotten something done first in order to enjoy it…"
He relinquishes his grip, but only to throw his head back and groan. When the childish display does nothing to disturb her focus, he resets his determination and leans forward instead; head near resting on her shoulder, cheek grazing into a twintail (he can smell that the perfume he bought has been dabbed at the corner of her jaw...), "Weeelll, if it must be the case, then perhaps I could let a little kiss tide me over as long as lunchtime…"
Reasonable, really, all things considered. Her head cants in counterpart and leans into him, too. Lips brush against lips for barely the space of a breath; she doesn't even break the pace of what she's reading. (She's trying to get it done quickly, idiot.) The shadow of his disappointment is a tangible drag on the edges of her awareness, "Come now, that hardly counts. Try again for me, won't you?"
"You're testing my patience!"
Fingerpads press and spread into his chest against an imaginary pain, like a tiger lily blossom crushed against it; he lets loose a forlorn cry, "You're testing my heart!"
A leather cover smacks against wood as incredulous arms give out to drop it down. She glares, and that's when he knows he's got her. Drat, she thinks, but it's true. His earthen eyes are a pitfall even the great tactician would fall prey to every time. Capturing her in a net of sparkles cast from reflecting the colors of the day and beaming from the light within his soul, woven with batting lashes longer than any man should rightfully be allowed to have.
Her own lids flutter along with the the feeling in her ribs as she takes it all in. He's far too cute when he mocks winces at her words.
"I can't stand you," she pouts, even as she presses it to his mouth before there's any more whining. And that's when she knows she's done for. One REAL kiss with Inigo, and she won't stop. Just being close, studying a person for a change, allowing herself to indulge in the happiness and tea-and-cake-sweetness on his lips which loved to deliver - no, she would never stop now, not til the next task would steal her time.
"I'd argue that, sweetheart~~" he pulls back just far enough to say, sliding his nose into Eskimo kisses in the meantime.
Fingers comb into her favorite parts of his curls and hold his head to pull herself even closer, and to steady herself while the fog of a giddy fever wisps about where rote battle lines once lain. "Mmn, …you'd win," she concedes all to easily, touching the spread of a toothy grin against his smile next. She'd always loved the feel of a smug and hearty laugh against her mouth, but she settles for loving the way Inigo's adam's apple bobs in time to a low-pitch gigglethat bumps his whole body in beats against her.
Maybe that's just because she loves him.
She pecks his lips again and again, and somewhere in the middle of more kisses he's crawled his way into her lap, draping his weight into each one. The little vermin has crept his way literally between her and her work.
Well… if there were ever a d a y to allow it…
She'll keep him busy with plenty of affection until afternoon.