It was a hard-learned lesson, though it pains me to admit it.
[ She's too cautious to allow herself that momentary weakness, an indication, by glancing down at the scar on her abdomen where she'd been too blinded by the hope of happiness (finally) and someone who loved her to see the knife until it had been too late. It remains in the back of her head and she leans a little more heavily against him. ]
[If he understands her implications, he doesn't show it. He's either finished with or abandoned his washing, his arms resting loosely in the water around her, but as she speaks, he runs his hands lightly over her thighs. To be distracting, or reassuring; same goal, really, so it hardly matters.]
It isn't always a bad thing, to be naive. [Perhaps a gentler soul wouldn't call "trust" and "love" naive, but. If they were gentle souls, they wouldn't be here together.] But it's unfortunate that there's no kind way to lose innocence.
[Childhood dreams shatter so easily, so inevitably. He doesn't pity her, his heart doesn't ache for her loss--but he can acknowledge the broken pieces of the life she rose from nonetheless.]
People would never face reality, otherwise. They would simply choose to live in a peaceful dream, and in a sense, that's almost as cruel as those of us who were jarred from it abruptly.
[ His hands glide along her thighs and she catches them at the end of their journey, bringing them closer. ]
But I believe we've ruminated enough. Shall we get out?
[A quiet, thoughtful noise--neither agreeing nor disagreeing. Not because he thinks she's wrong--he knows, too well, that she isn't. But he can't quash the part of his heart that wonders if living in a peaceful dream would be all that bad, for some. For the people who don't belong in their world, the ones who shouldn't walk their dark, bloodied path.
Not that it matters in the end, really. It's not a real possibility. So he leaves his hands pliant in hers, leaning around her to kiss her again, if she permits it.
After that, he stands, helping her to her feet if she needs it. No sexy concussions today!! When he fetches the towels, he unwraps a small red device from inside them, setting it to the side--when she takes her towel, she'll notice it's nice and warm.]
Ah, I forgot--do you prefer a comb for your hair, or a brush? [Things only a man with several sisters would say]
Childe nods as he dries off, too--his own is short enough that a quick towel dry and some finger-combing are enough to get it fluffy and touseled, the way it normally looks.]
Alright--there should be one back in the bedroom, but I can fetch another if you don't think it'll work. [For. Some reason? He doesn't know that much.]
I've finger-combed my hair before, though I would prefer you keep such a scandalous secret to yourself. [ wryly. Sometimes brushes are a luxury. Improvising is a necessary life skill. ]
I wouldn't call it a date without equal knowing intent on both sides from the beginning of calling it that. So perhaps I might just call it a very pleasant experience.
[ She probably would have spent a great deal of time thinking of it as some manner of trap, only to be baffled because there was nothing she could offer him now, no possible advantage he could have from trying to sway her in his favor. ]
[Oh. That, it seems, catches him off-guard. He recovers quickly enough--he isn't so tactless as to stare at her in his surprise--but he looks... not shy, not from him, but... off-kilter, perhaps. Contemplative, just a touch sheepish about it.
Because... it's complicated, isn't it? Anything more than what they've shared this evening. He'd asked because he'd expected a lighthearted quip; to get a serious answer puts them on untrodden ground, no matter what his heart does in response to her words.
And... at the end of the day, Childe has a very bad habit of failing the people who care about him. He's still not used to the fact that they exist in the first place. Hearing that she might've come for him even if he'd been a little more honest, even if he'd let himself think a little more about how much he missed her--it's as if he'd tossed her a broken shard and gotten seaglass in return.]
...I'll keep that in mind for next time, then.
[A delayed response--but it's no less genuine for the lightness in his tone.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
I have my moments, don't you think?
no subject
[ Mildly. ]
I can't deny that you're certainly... attentive.
no subject
[What is he even fishing for at this point?? Nothing, honestly, he's just teasing for the sake of it.]
no subject
But I don't particularly trust soft or gentle anymore.
[ There's almost always a reason for it. To get one to drop one's guard, perhaps. She's experienced that herself. ]
no subject
That's wise of you. [Unsurprising words, considering he's the same way.]
no subject
[ She's too cautious to allow herself that momentary weakness, an indication, by glancing down at the scar on her abdomen where she'd been too blinded by the hope of happiness (finally) and someone who loved her to see the knife until it had been too late. It remains in the back of her head and she leans a little more heavily against him. ]
But not one easily forgotten now.
no subject
It isn't always a bad thing, to be naive. [Perhaps a gentler soul wouldn't call "trust" and "love" naive, but. If they were gentle souls, they wouldn't be here together.] But it's unfortunate that there's no kind way to lose innocence.
[Childhood dreams shatter so easily, so inevitably. He doesn't pity her, his heart doesn't ache for her loss--but he can acknowledge the broken pieces of the life she rose from nonetheless.]
no subject
[ His hands glide along her thighs and she catches them at the end of their journey, bringing them closer. ]
But I believe we've ruminated enough. Shall we get out?
no subject
[A quiet, thoughtful noise--neither agreeing nor disagreeing. Not because he thinks she's wrong--he knows, too well, that she isn't. But he can't quash the part of his heart that wonders if living in a peaceful dream would be all that bad, for some. For the people who don't belong in their world, the ones who shouldn't walk their dark, bloodied path.
Not that it matters in the end, really. It's not a real possibility. So he leaves his hands pliant in hers, leaning around her to kiss her again, if she permits it.
After that, he stands, helping her to her feet if she needs it. No sexy concussions today!! When he fetches the towels, he unwraps a small red device from inside them, setting it to the side--when she takes her towel, she'll notice it's nice and warm.]
Ah, I forgot--do you prefer a comb for your hair, or a brush? [Things only a man with several sisters would say]
no subject
(He gets away with the kiss. She's fond of him. Unfortunately.) ]
Brush-- my hair is a bit too thick for a comb to navigate safely and effectively.
no subject
Childe nods as he dries off, too--his own is short enough that a quick towel dry and some finger-combing are enough to get it fluffy and touseled, the way it normally looks.]
Alright--there should be one back in the bedroom, but I can fetch another if you don't think it'll work. [For. Some reason? He doesn't know that much.]
no subject
I've finger-combed my hair before, though I would prefer you keep such a scandalous secret to yourself. [ wryly. Sometimes brushes are a luxury. Improvising is a necessary life skill. ]
I do believe the brush will be fine.
no subject
[He won't, of course, but it's funny to imagine.]
no subject
[ Primrose. ]
no subject
no subject
Indeed, it would trouble me a great deal. So I appreciate your silence on the matter.
no subject
You can have it for the price of a second date.
[THIS ISN'T THEIR FIRST DATE.]
no subject
no subject
That depends on what you'd call it.
no subject
[ Tough as nails, this one. ]
no subject
no subject
If you intend to wish for a date, then mayhaps you might consider asking for one at the beginning.
no subject
And if I had?
[Would she have agreed to come, if he'd phrased it as anything more significant than an entreaty for a few hours of her company?]
no subject
I would have considered it.
[ She probably would have spent a great deal of time thinking of it as some manner of trap, only to be baffled because there was nothing she could offer him now, no possible advantage he could have from trying to sway her in his favor. ]
no subject
Because... it's complicated, isn't it? Anything more than what they've shared this evening. He'd asked because he'd expected a lighthearted quip; to get a serious answer puts them on untrodden ground, no matter what his heart does in response to her words.
And... at the end of the day, Childe has a very bad habit of failing the people who care about him. He's still not used to the fact that they exist in the first place. Hearing that she might've come for him even if he'd been a little more honest, even if he'd let himself think a little more about how much he missed her--it's as if he'd tossed her a broken shard and gotten seaglass in return.]
...I'll keep that in mind for next time, then.
[A delayed response--but it's no less genuine for the lightness in his tone.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)