"You're still being courted as of me telling you, even if you decline later. It's fine. Just don't start spreading the news or I'll be in big trouble, and if you keep doing it so will you."

"...noted." Don't tell anyone, on pain of... pain of what actually? "What kind of trouble, exactly? Not that I intend to go around telling people! I just want to know what I need to be afraid of."

"It'll be my problem before it's yours," she says, which is not exactly an answer.

It is not really an answer at all. "I'd still like to know? It'd still be my fault, and I don't want bad things to happen to you, or me!" 

She considers this.

"I will let you know if it's becoming a problem and I will let you know how strongly I feel about the problem it's becoming, and if you're on the road to experiencing consequences in your own right I'll tell you what they are. I think that's pretty fair."

He dithers for a moment. "...I can stop asking if you want. But the fact that you don't want to tell me, or aren't telling me, or whatever is going on, is making me more concerned, not less? But I can stop asking about this if you want."

"I know it's making you concerned but I still don't want to tell you."

"...okay then. I guess I should probably stop asking." He walks his bike towards his home, trying to digest this and everything else Rosy has told him today. 

After a few steps, she says, "Quick, come up with a normal topic of conversation because I can only think of one thing to say and it's terrible."

He wants to ask what that thing is, but he also doesn't want to press her about things at the moment (it worked so very well the last time). The obvious topics of conversation are (sex) what, more stuff about magic, but that feels slightly sore at the moment, so he should try... "you said you have sisters, right?" Oh wait this was a bad idea. "Would it be a good idea to ask what your family is like?" Nope, terrible idea. This was a mistake. 

"I have two sisters. Kallisto is a year younger and utterly terrifying, she'll handle the Blake legacy just fine. Tiamat is still in middle school and we love her ferociously. Besides that, there's my parents, my aunt Ereshkigal and her kids, and Grandma Vicky."

"...sorry, hold on, Vicky? What is that short for, exactly? The rest of you, um. Seem to have more interesting names than that." 

"Her mother named her Nike. She got tired of people making reference to shoes every time she introduced herself, so she translated it, and then it got shortened as names do."

"Translated it..." John pauses for a moment until the half-remembered Greek mythology clicks into place. "Oh, victory. That works out! And I can see how she would be annoyed by that and want to change it. Imagine going around named 'pepsi' or something." 

"Exactly."

"...so wait, you like your sisters? And they like you? It's not like, vicious infighting over who gets to rule the family when your mother dies, or something?" That does sound stupid when he says it out loud, doesn't it. 

She giggles. "No, why would we do that? I don't even want to rule the family. And Kallisto will be better at it."

"That's just... what you're supposed to expect from magical families with inheritance. Or something." he says, by inadequate way of explanation. "I may have been, um, pulling too much from stories. But this isn't a story, it's real." 

"Very real," she agrees, and holds herself back from reminding him of some real features of this situation.

Something about the way she says it makes him think of just what is real -- a cute and enthusiastic girl offering herself to be his the way he couldn't have remotely ever thought possible. He blushes a little and walks on, not saying anything, doing his best to dispel the (very fun and very bad) images from his mind. 

Oh, no, he noticed. Well then. "Fun thoughts?"

John still has complicated feelings about revealing his fantasies in mixed (okay, any) company, despite just how open (and enthusiastic!) Rosy seems about the prospect. (It's probably fine, but also she caught him and he still feels bad about that.) "Maybe a little," he manages finally. 

"You could tell me about them," she says, walking a little closer and lowering her voice. "If you want. I promise I wouldn't mind." More than not minding, she yearns for it.

He can sense her yearning (and he yearns too, despite his many, many misgivings.) "I..." he tries to search for something more... tame than what he was just thinking of. (Is there anything more tame than what he was thinking of?) (If it's tame then why did just thinking about it make him aroused, wanting it?) 

The problem with trying to think of other sexy fantasies is that you do. They're not any more tame. "I... I thought about once the ritual being complete and you saying... so... that I... tell you to kneel and you smile and do it," he says, blushing, feeling himself get obviously turned on (and trying to walk with his legs closer together to hide it) and steeling himself for the inevitable spite and disgust. 

How about this dreamy sigh? It's a very passionate dreamy sigh. There doesn't seem to be the slightest hint of spite or disgust involved. She's just happy and wistful and amused and endeared and maybe a little aroused herself.