The sensation of his tongue on her cheek lingered, causing Kagome's mind to wander to the point of Kagura turning it into a game. They'd have had to replace an entire set of teacups if her reflexes weren't as honed as they were.
"What does it matter?" Kagura asked, finally admitting that the beast paid no threat, often using him as furniture. When she found him draped in towels or covered in wet dishes, Kagome didn't know whether to laugh or scowl.
Kagome opened her mouth to answer, then closed it again. She wasn't sure why it mattered, only that it did, wishing she had a better way of communicating with him.
"You could always teach him to write," Kagura smirked, reading her thoughts. "Though Mama would probably get mad from the ink getting everywhere."
Rolling her eyes, Kagome shoved her sister, both dissolving into laughter. The beast's eye cracked open, though it went unnoticed, the women chatting about plans for spring and what they would replenish first.
There was an air of tranquillity throughout the house, made better by the constant warmth of the fire and Kagome's soft murmurings when she returned to the beast's side. Words of poetry mixed with crackling flames, creating an odd but compelling lullaby, the woman eventually giving up the fight to keep her eyes open, the scroll lying forgotten as she succumbed to slumber.
