Josephine is, of course, listening to Cullen's report on red templar movement in Emprise du Lion. It is part of her duties to record their meetings in the War Room and she is always fiercely fastidious about her notes. They discuss so many important issues and it could be disastrous to their cause to forget even something so small as a marquis' birthday.
Lately, however, it is a little difficult for her to concentrate on the black ink instead of his blue eyes across the table. The Inquisitor does not make it easy when he flashes a casual smile that makes her stomach flip, nor when he rolls his eyes behind a piece of paper as Leliana threatens some sort of extravagant act of espionage.
Early in their meeting, he catches her playing with the family crest dangling from her neck. She is thinking how handsome he looked ready to fight for her in Val Royeaux, how she felt like floating away when he twirled her and kissed every worry from her lips right there in front of nobles like nothing else mattered.
When he notices, he gives her a warm look, as if he too might be remembering that fantastical day. She never thought it possible this wonderful man might feel anything towards her and the gentle love in his eyes makes her want to melt into a puddle like the red wax of her candle.
"Inquisitor?" Leliana says, noticing his distraction, and their connection snaps out like a flame.
"Yes, sorry. Continue," he replies with a clearing of his throat. Josephine can practically see the Spymaster's smirk without looking and for the rest of the meeting keeps her eyes on the board in her fingers in order to not repeat this incident.
Yet her quill seems to wander as much as her eyes would as they continue on. The tight curls and straight lines of her elegant writing start to waver as her mind veers away from shipment orders and templar tracking. Josephine begins to draw swirling patterns in the margins as she thinks about his soft brown curls and how she likes to run her fingers through them.
She pulls the pen across the page and leaves his last name behind. Trevelyan. She likes the way it rolls off her tongue, but loves how he whispers hers quiet and sweet in her ear. With a quick peek to make sure no one is noticing, she adds her name above his and bites her lips to keep from giggling. Josephine Trevelyan. She will have to get all new pillows and towels.
"I think that's enough for today," he says as the sky starts to turn the glass pink and purple behind them. The Inquisitor turns to face her. "Would you care to join me for dinner, Lady Montilyet?"
"Of course, Your Worship."
"I will see you soon, then." He gives her a small bow and a clever smirk before gliding away. Her eyes follow him, captivated by the power of his lean body, until he disappears through the far doors.
"My goodness Josie, are those hearts you've drawn?" Leliana whispers in her ear and Josephine squeaks in surprise. She pulls the board flush against her chest and knocks the candle to the floor. Oh how she wishes it had set her ablaze instead, but the fire on her cheeks might do that for her.
"Leliana!" she says, her tone both pleading and warning at the same time. Her friend gives a quiet laugh with dangerous mischief sparkling bright in her eyes. This will not end well.
"Don't worry, your secret is safe with me," she replies and moves away. Josephine lets go of her breath, relieved. She goes to leave, to run from the room before something more can happen, until she feels Leliana brush up against her again. "Mrs. Trevelyan."
"Don't you dare!" Josephine yells and chases the Spymaster from the room, their laughter bouncing off the walls.
Cullen shakes his head, sighing into the empty room. "Andraste preserve me."