OOC: sorry this is so long – I haven’t written a word in almost a month and then suddenly there’s this huge wall of text lmaoo let me know if there’s anything you’d like changed!
He released a humoured breath just shy of a laugh, nodding to show his agreement.
Of course she would have an interest in the past. Even without the obvious factor of her gift, her line of work was centred around it; helping people to heal from their childhoods or whatever else had shaped them to seek therapy.
The thought gave him pause. Despite the remaining touch of paranoia that his answer had disappointed her – that it was weird and highlighted his lack of normalcy, his
unsuitability for, well, he wasn’t quite sure what – Tawny seemed content enough. Smiling and holding his gaze. So there was a chance she might even
like it, in some way. Or at least, a possibility she was unphased by such a claim due to hearing similar dramatics from her clients.
Comparing himself to them threatened to plunge him into uncertainty once more. It wasn’t a wonderful feeling to think he might be stirring the same type of curiosity a patient would, but… any interest in him was better than no interest, right? He could work with it? Mold it into the type of intrigue he really wanted?
His head tipped and he had to stop himself from shaking it, lest his audience ask what thoughts had made him do so. He was overthinking again. The important thing was that he hadn’t blundered as much as he had in the false security of her bed. She seemed nowhere near as
panicked.
To make things as equal between them as possible (or just to be a polite houseguest), he really did want to help her clean up their breakfast. But Tawny turned down his offer and he made his own disagreeing noise as she stole his plate and utensils, only to falter when she shot a quip about her dishwasher with a grin that was closer to a smirk. He snorted. Parted his lips as he tried to think of something witty to respond with. But he found he was too hungover (or perhaps too preoccupied with the glowing warmth her words gave him) to get his thoughts in order. He simply sat there obediently with a stupid grin on his face, staring after her while she took their dishes to the sink.
She returned with the promise to teach him
‘Leaving Tawny’s Apartment 101’, and while such a statement initially brought amusement to his features, the expression swiftly slipped into a grimace at the idea of some random child talking to him. Tawny had nothing to worry about there; he couldn’t be
paid to ‘engage’ with a kid when he was completely healthy and sober, let alone when he was feeling the aftereffects of a night out.
She came close and held out his wallet, but pulled it back before he could take it, her brow raised as she stressed just how important it was to ignore the kids in the hall. The severity of it made him laugh, delight rippling through him again. It was almost as if she was briefing him for a risky Blackstorm job.
“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience,” he chuckled after she warned him of the mothers. Yet it made his stomach feel strange again, like it had when she’d been crying in his home and he’d gone to get her the nice tissues. It didn’t sit well with him to think of some entitled, bitter harpies yelling at her for their own failings, for their own bratty kids whom they kicked out into the hall and failed to teach about ‘stranger danger’. Worse was the thought that they might have actually had an impact on Tawny’s mood at any point of her living there, that they might have made her feel anything less than happy.
He was tempted to ask if she would like him to
tell them off for her. Maybe scare them a little. Maybe hurt them a little.
Ah, but what if word got around and the other residents started treating Tawny differently? What if someone threatened
her?
Apartments sucked. There were too many people around and famously
Hell was other people. Tawny deserved somewhere peaceful. Somewhere safe. And if it would keep her eyes on him like they were at that moment, wandering across him with something almost soft in them, he was pretty sure he would give that to her. He was pretty sure he would do anything she wanted.
Build me a castle, Noah.
How many rooms, baby? How many towers?To make it worse, she chose that moment to slip her hand into his hair. His insides returned to mush, his stomach fluttering and his eyes rounded as he blinked up at her.
Christ. He knew he liked that, but wasn’t it all a bit of an overreaction on his part? He felt like that damn rabbit in
Bambi, foot compelled to tap at hundred miles per hour until it made a sound akin to a revving engine. What was that word they’d used?
Twitterpated?? He stared back, trying to memorise the way she was looking at him, holding his breath, and only seeming to inhale once her eyes lifted to his again. He forced himself to school his features back into light amusement, trying to mimic her expression to not look as whipped as he felt. It was ridiculous. What was wrong with him? Even her warning of a nosy neighbour had him laughing a tad more brightly than was proportionate.
He needed to calm down. It was the hangover making him behave like an insane person. Actually, he needed to get laid.
That would surely clear his head.
Regardless, he had to touch her, so he reached for her waist.
“Very wise advice,” he hummed, peeking up at her with a sly smile as his hand drifted down her side to her thigh.
“Looking at someone is indeed making it incredibly difficult to leave.” But he said he would, hadn’t he. To himself. To her. He sighed wistfully, head tipping as he watched his fingers fiddle with the hem of her shorts.
“Yeah. I should… Yeah.” It was so easy to imagine staying –
dangerously so – but she deserved him in peak condition. Not when he was fighting a headache and struggling to concentrate.
He stood up and, on his way, felt like he should kiss her on the cheek or forehead. Hugging also crossed his mind, but that reeked too much of friendship – or worse, of
clinginess. He was supposed to be playing it cool, so he resisted those urges and stepped around her with a smile and only a quick squeeze to her waist before letting go.
“See ya, boys,” he said to the ferrets as he passed them. He snorted, giving a small shake of his head at the wriggling creatures (because seriously, ferrets?! What an unexpected, bewildering choice of pet) before kneeling to put on his boots and then turning back to Tawny when he was done.
“Give my love and deepest respect to Myrtle,” he said sombrely,
“and please thank her for not murdering me in my sleep.” It must have crossed the fluffball's mind after those selfies he'd taken with her.
And… that was it. He was all set to go. Considering the advice he’d received, Noah imagined he was now expected – was now
supposed – to slip out the door quickly and not look back. But as he glanced down at Tawny, this girl in her pjs with her blue watercolour eyes, a devious smile pulled at his lips.
Tawny had said he might see her nosy neighbour in the mail room, but
what if…
Before he could get stuck on deliberating the consequences, he wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him, dipping down in the same second to hungrily press his lips against hers. It was intoxicating. The warmth and taste of her instantly setting him alight and filling his head with thoughts of winding his fingers into her thick hair, of pulling her impossibly closer like he couldn't breathe without her touch.
But there was a purpose to this. A mission. His free hand reached out to pull the door open.
After a moment (during which he felt close to
vibrating from the charge running through him), he broke apart the kiss. He stayed close though, letting his forehead touch hers and their noses brush.
“Thank you for last night,” he said sincerely. Then, he let his lips tug into a deeper smirk.
“If you’re ever up for round eight, you know where to find me.”Just as he’d hoped, the door across the hallway unlatched. His cue to leave. His excuse for stealing another kiss; it was
just a little prank – he’d only kissed her because he thought it would be
funny for her neighbour to see it,
really! He hadn’t kissed her because he was
starving for it. For the feel of her body and for a memory of her mouth unhindered by inebriation.
He pulled away, giving Tawny one last fond look before turning into the hallway. Immediately he was confronted with the sight of an elderly woman stood in the doorway across from them, a shrewd glitter in her eye. He parried the knee-jerk reaction to laugh and nodded to her.
“Good morning, ma’am. Sorry, must run.” And run he did – if ‘running’ could be considered a very quick stride towards the staircase, sidestepping toys and steadfastly avoiding eye-contact with the small humanoid shapes sat by one of the doors.
If Tawny’s neighbour was a gossip, maybe news would spread through the building that Tawny was spoken for. Which… wouldn’t stop Tawny bringing home someone from outside the building, but it might just earn her a disapproving eye or two.
He chuckled to himself. Who was he kidding? It was very unlikely anyone would care, but it made him feel better. And now that he'd finally made contact and established she wasn't irrevocably terrified of him, that left a lot of new possibilities to think about.
Tawny Vokes