"That's... okay?" he asks her, slightly taken aback (in a good way! mostly) by her response. 

"...John. John, my beloved. I wrote you a letter offering you my soul on a platter. I explicitly pointed out that if you take me up on it you could make me your sex slave, and I would sort of complicatedly not entirely mind if you did. Why would you expect me to be anything less than delighted by you liking the thought of me kneeling to you?"

"...you could have had a different image in mind of what that meant and been disgusted by what I wanted to do? Or not really wanted it" okay are you serious you've met her for 10 minutes and know better "and when faced with the reality of it realized it was a horrible idea? That one might be a bit silly though. I don't know, I don't expect anyone to like me for these sorts of things, they aren't good things to want!" 

"I promise you I've thought about it. I dare say I've thought about it a lot more than you have. I promise you there is literally nothing you could decide to do with me that would shock me out of wanting to be yours."

"Nothing at all? I mean, what if I turn out to be secretly evil?" He's honestly afraid of that himself, given unfettered access to... whatever he wants. He's a little afraid of what he might do with the opportunity. "I could hurt you, I could make you do embarrassing things, I could... I don't know, do all sorts of awful things to you! There's all kinds of things I could do that wouldn't be ok!" 

"I know," she says. "Believe me, I know. But—I still want it. If I swear myself to you and you kill me or torture me or make me go to school naked, well, that's not the outcome I was hoping for, but it's not a shock, it's not—I don't need that to be impossible. I am fine with that being possible. I know how bad an idea this is, and I'm going to do it anyway." Her passionate voice softens a little when she adds, "If you'll have me."

"I don't want to do any of those things," he reassures her. (It's mostly true. He's pretty sure.) "I just... I don't know if there's going to be too much temptation to do things anyways. I don't know how I feel about all this. An hour ago I was giving someone help with math and now there's a girl telling me magic is real and offering me her soul forever and ever." He's not entirely sure if the soul is metaphorical or not. "I don't know how to deal with all this. I don't know why I deserve anything like this. You're very very cute and extremely enticing" boy how enticing "but it's just... so very much." 

"...that's fair. I know it's a lot. I know I'm a lot. But—please don't hold back because you're afraid of what I'll think of you. What I think of you is that I'm in love and I want you to own me, and nothing you could say to me will change that. There are things you could do, once you have me, that I'm sure would eventually inspire me to regret—but if I looked into the future right now and saw them, it wouldn't change my decision at all."

"I... I don't know if I could ever do something like that. I don't know if I know how not to hold back either." If he wasn't holding back... he'd kiss her, or yell at her, or something, she's inspired quite a lot of emotion in him over the last hour. "I can try? But it's still hard to believe that you just... want that with me. And even though I still don't know if I want it" lies "I keep being afraid of losing it, I guess? I don't know. Maybe things will make more sense in a few days. Or weeks."

"John, I promise, you're not going to lose me." She pats his elbow comfortingly. "Take your time. You can have me whenever you want. I'm not going anywhere."

"Okay. Okay. Okay." He takes a breath. (Also her hand is soft and comforting.) "We can go to my house, and I can teach you math, and my mom and dad can see you and whisper to each other with obvious grins on their faces and offer you snacks or something" (he has no idea if they're going to do that but it seems likely) "and possibly freak out a little when they find out you're a Blake? And we can see where we go from there?" 

"That sounds just fine to me."

"Well, ok. Good. Home isn't too much further away -- at least I think so, I'm not used to walking my bike, just riding it -- but it feels like it shouldn't be much longer now. It's just up this hill and back down it. And then we can sit down and do math."

"And then math!" she says, bouncing excitedly.

He grins at her excitement, despite himself. Then frowns, predicting in more detail about her interactions with his parents. "Um." he says. "Just in case it wasn't clear, you probably don't want to talk about...... sex things around my parents. Even hinting it? I don't think they'd like it, and I really, really, really don't want them to know what I'm into." The warning is probably unnecessary but she hasn't stopped bringing it up (or pointing it out in him for fucks sake) and he really wants to be sure. 

"I... will try my very best," she says.

...Oh. 

He stops short with his bike for a few moments, then starts walking again. "Please do?" he pleads. "I don't want my parents" well it wouldn't be a wrong impression would it "to get, um, a certain impression. I don't know what would happen. I really don't want to find out, it's probably not anything good."

"Hmm. Give me a minute?" she says, tugging on his sleeve to slow him down and then stopping and closing her eyes.

Okay. There's already a lot of things she can't mention in front of John's parents, like the ritual of vassalage itself. So in theory she can just... fold the whole subject of sex in under the same umbrella, temporarily. The whole subject of sex and also the concept of belonging to him. Which leaves her with which parts of the world, again? John being incredibly cute, and her being incredibly in love with him, and the way they met, and saving him from Jess Favreau's indiscriminate wrath, and all the stalking, though put a pin in that one because it occurs to her that he may prefer she not mention the stalking, and then she sent him a love letter and asked to meet him in the park and he's still thinking through whether he wants to date her but she keeps bowling him over with her enthusiasm because, you see, she is incredibly in love.

She opens her eyes. "Do you also want me to not mention the year I spent stalking you?"

"...I think it might be a good idea if that didn't come up, yes." What is he getting himself into? 

"Okay. I think I can do that," she says, sounding much more confident than she did before.

A knot in his stomach he didn't realize was there unknots. Phew. "Okay, good," he says. He gestures towards the top of the hill, still a decent distance away. "Should we keep going?" 

"Yeah." She starts walking again.

This trip definitely takes longer walking than it does biking, but they're nearly at the top of the hill. He gives it a few moments for them to crest it, and then points. "That one is mine, down there." It's a reasonably standard (as far as he knows) house for the small town suburubs-ish that they're in, two stories, painted a pale unobtrusive green, with a driveway and garage. It's visible just around the bend in the road as the hill flattens out. It's probably not nearly as good as what Rosy is used to, but he has a feeling (he's met her) that she isn't going to mind. 

Indeed, she bounces. "Aww, it's cute! I like the green."

He smiles once more at her joy. "I didn't really have anything to do with it," he tells her. "But I'm glad you like it."