You're an actual hero, [said with the sort of laugh that implies she's not very sure she means it as a compliment or as a joke either. She leans back against the trunk of the tree, looking up to its foliage.
The affection train hasn't left the station, because she's still taking their held together hands as a sign of a green light to lean against his side as well. Sort of snuggling yes.]
It's like we're in a whole different place right now. [A pause, the well-timed breeze and all; she looks down again.] Why'd you bring me here?
I'm wearing spandex under my scrubs. [He'll take it as a joke, but not without looking at her a moment too long, letting his arm rest around her shoulders. Snuggling is very workable.]
What I said about the tree? I think this whole place is like that. A series of coincidences. Some of them have been fortunate.
[There's an answer to her question in there somewhere.]
She knows, they've had this conversation before but charged with so many other things, so many explanations and confessed secrets and - in spite of the curse - unspoken words, but she still knows he's glad. She's very glad, too. For many reasons, which would her take a while to enumerate.
So glad, it turns out, that this is that moment; the one where she reaches up with her free hand, hooks her fingers into the vee of his scrubs shirt, and pulls him down. It's only half the spiked drink, really. Maybe it's less than half, even.
It's been a very, very long time since the last time she got to press her lips against his. Even if it's so brief that it barely counts.]
[Not so brief that he doesn't have time to make that split-second decision between pulling away or returning the kiss. And he doesn't pull away. His fingers wind loosely into her hair even after there's a breath between them again, and he tastes the sweetness on his lips with the tip of his tongue just in case there's enough lingering there (enough to be an excuse).
With his forehead against hers, maybe she can hear that faint chorus of damn damn damn currently running through his mind. But, he wouldn't be any good for her. He never would have been. He thinks he made that clear enough during the curse.]
[But he doesn't pull away, or push her back. She wants to tip her head and try for a firmer brush, but she doesn't want to do it with someone who can't kiss her back.
He might here the faint chorus of damn damn damn currently running through her mind, too.]
Oh. [And here she is, all but throwing herself on him - shit.]
Oh, right - uhm. [Let her just...pull away from letting their foreheads touch so tenderly, at the very least.] I'm sorry - I shouldn't have hoped - I mean assumed - I mean. That was rude, very rude cliché gesture of me to pull.
And yes, look at her throwing herself at him, it's disgusting. He shakes his head to that effect.]
No, I'm offended. You can blame it on the drink but apology or not... [And then he manages a smile, because it's the best possible deflection from showing that twinge of regret at her pulling away-] I've been trying to get you to want to kiss me for what, a year? You waited until now?
[Mae, there's absolutely nothing to be sorry for. He's sorry.]
[She laughs, but it's a dry and humourless laugh, as she rubs her face; she'd slap herself right now if he wasn't around.]
Look, I'm a complicated person apparently. I've been under the impression that I'd lost your attention, and I thought - well, you said you were glad we'd become friends and I'll be quiet now before I ruin that.
Hey. [Serious now, he shifts to face her.] That's not going to happen.
[The other way round wouldn't surprise him, but she's not ruining anything. Timing's the only thing screwing anything up. Well, that and maybe miscommunication. That's what makes him sigh, now.]
You didn't lose my attention. Giving up telling you I was interested isn't the same as losing interest. I didn't. [He hasn't.] I just figured you weren't.
I was. [She winces a bit, starkly aware of how badly their timing sucks. But amidst all that embarrassment and disappointment, she does believe him when he says she hasn't ruined a thing.
They're still here, aren't they? Even if he now knows she'd kiss him given the chance, they can still be friends? Friendly? Fuck if she knows right now.]
I was just - you know. The ever so familiar 'came from a bad place' speech. [Which wasn't even a bad place, compared to most people in the City. What, she'd been lied to by one boy who'd declared a romantic interest in her, her ex had actually gotten with her to get close to her brother, the boy she'd developped feelings for had come and gone from the City without ever remembering or knowing of any of the events that had brought them closer, and in spite of not wanting to think about it in those terms, there'd been the issue with age and all. She winces again at her own syrupy lines.]
I feel like this is where I go home and listen to Taylor Swift.
[Please, how long had she known he'd kiss her given the chance (and some less complicated circumstances)? They were friends through that - at least it's the term he'd use. He pulls a face at her next suggestion.]
Don't tell me I've driven you to that. Not after showing you my secret place.
[Never not going to sound dirty, especially the way he says it. Smile, Mae.]
[She laughs at his reaction, the tension somewhat dispelled. Somewhat. There's still the clenched feeling in her gut and the lingering heat on her lips, products of a kiss that should've satisfied more, but she'll set that aside.]
You should come over and let me play you some Cohen. There's a guy who really knows how to do misery.
[And he reaches, tentatively, for her wrist.]
You shouldn't be swifting over this. [He tilts his head, sketching a small shrug.] Give it a few months, you could be telling anecdotes about your lucky escape.
[He can take it. It's right there, not technically his, but she moves the rest of the way to he can wrap his hand around it again if it's what he wants.
Funny, how she doesn't feel like running away right now at all, and yet his words hint that she should.]
[Yes, he should be aiming for less light now. (Much like green asparagus aims for less in terms of 'resemblance to a penis' compared to its white counterpart.)
But she should be aiming for less, too. Less trouble for herself, later on. Something she'll likely not achieve, not by inching closer and leaning against him in a sort of hug.]
[But unfortunately green asparagus ultimately only suggeeds in looking like the penis of a curious elongated alien corpse long dead and held in a jar in area 52]
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4th july; backdated; action
Perils of the job. [Some might say perks. Anyone with any experience knows better.]
4th july; backdated; action
The affection train hasn't left the station, because she's still taking their held together hands as a sign of a green light to lean against his side as well. Sort of snuggling yes.]
It's like we're in a whole different place right now. [A pause, the well-timed breeze and all; she looks down again.] Why'd you bring me here?
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What I said about the tree? I think this whole place is like that. A series of coincidences. Some of them have been fortunate.
[There's an answer to her question in there somewhere.]
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That's...a very twisted way to answer a very simple question. [Just so he's aware.] Which magazine did you get that one from?
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She knows, they've had this conversation before but charged with so many other things, so many explanations and confessed secrets and - in spite of the curse - unspoken words, but she still knows he's glad. She's very glad, too. For many reasons, which would her take a while to enumerate.
So glad, it turns out, that this is that moment; the one where she reaches up with her free hand, hooks her fingers into the vee of his scrubs shirt, and pulls him down. It's only half the spiked drink, really. Maybe it's less than half, even.
It's been a very, very long time since the last time she got to press her lips against his. Even if it's so brief that it barely counts.]
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With his forehead against hers, maybe she can hear that faint chorus of damn damn damn currently running through his mind. But, he wouldn't be any good for her. He never would have been. He thinks he made that clear enough during the curse.]
I can't kiss you back. [Not a second time.]
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He might here the faint chorus of damn damn damn currently running through her mind, too.]
Why not?
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I'm dating someone and we... recently figured we'd see how the exclusivity thing goes.
[He's still surprised, himself.]
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Oh, right - uhm. [Let her just...pull away from letting their foreheads touch so tenderly, at the very least.] I'm sorry - I shouldn't have hoped - I mean assumed - I mean. That was rude, very rude cliché gesture of me to pull.
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And yes, look at her throwing herself at him, it's disgusting. He shakes his head to that effect.]
No, I'm offended. You can blame it on the drink but apology or not... [And then he manages a smile, because it's the best possible deflection from showing that twinge of regret at her pulling away-] I've been trying to get you to want to kiss me for what, a year? You waited until now?
[Mae, there's absolutely nothing to be sorry for. He's sorry.]
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Look, I'm a complicated person apparently. I've been under the impression that I'd lost your attention, and I thought - well, you said you were glad we'd become friends and I'll be quiet now before I ruin that.
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[The other way round wouldn't surprise him, but she's not ruining anything. Timing's the only thing screwing anything up. Well, that and maybe miscommunication. That's what makes him sigh, now.]
You didn't lose my attention. Giving up telling you I was interested isn't the same as losing interest. I didn't. [He hasn't.] I just figured you weren't.
4th july; backdated; action
They're still here, aren't they? Even if he now knows she'd kiss him given the chance, they can still be friends? Friendly? Fuck if she knows right now.]
I was just - you know. The ever so familiar 'came from a bad place' speech. [Which wasn't even a bad place, compared to most people in the City. What, she'd been lied to by one boy who'd declared a romantic interest in her, her ex had actually gotten with her to get close to her brother, the boy she'd developped feelings for had come and gone from the City without ever remembering or knowing of any of the events that had brought them closer, and in spite of not wanting to think about it in those terms, there'd been the issue with age and all. She winces again at her own syrupy lines.]
I feel like this is where I go home and listen to Taylor Swift.
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Don't tell me I've driven you to that. Not after showing you my secret place.
[Never not going to sound dirty, especially the way he says it. Smile, Mae.]
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Driven me to Swifting.
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[And he reaches, tentatively, for her wrist.]
You shouldn't be swifting over this. [He tilts his head, sketching a small shrug.] Give it a few months, you could be telling anecdotes about your lucky escape.
4th july; backdated; action
Funny, how she doesn't feel like running away right now at all, and yet his words hint that she should.]
Self-deprecation. Hot.
4th july; backdated; action
(Yes, he has a girlfriend. She's not the biggest hugger.)]
I could be a smug arsehole if you'd find that more attractive.
[Though he should... probably be aiming for less.]
Apparently I'm good at it.
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But she should be aiming for less, too. Less trouble for herself, later on. Something she'll likely not achieve, not by inching closer and leaning against him in a sort of hug.]
Find a balance, and you've got a deal.
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That's the part I'm still working on.
[Hug: get.]
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I'll give you a constructive report, just later.
[Yes, hug. Hug, getting. She wishes he didn't smell good, who smells good in a hospital, this is terrible.]
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Later works. [He stretches out his free arm, checks his watch.] Maybe we could get dinner before I'm judged.
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Maybe we could. [She looks up and grin.] Your last supper.
Re: 4th july; backdated; action
And AHA now she'll get dinner with him. Mae Crawford you are a difficult woman]
I was thinking something more exciting than bread and wine.
[But hey that set up did end in a kiss, so-]
4th july; backdated; action