“Comfy?”
TAKE ME AS I AM
Quinn Merrill & Phillipa Irving
prompt: music
A month or so ago someone had decided it would be a great idea to put a couch in the music room. A little out of place and unexpected, certainly, but he had to admit he could see the benefits. Listening as Molly plucked experimentally at the strings of his guitar from where she sat in the middle of the floor while Cassidy showed Rory how to play a simple piece on the piano, Quinn had his eyes closed when she entered the room. As soon as she stepped through the doorway though he knew she was there, a state of hyperawareness when it came to the sound and scent of her that triggered an internal alert. His eyes opened and he twisted to look back over the arm of the couch he was currently using as a headrest. Molly was sitting on the only cushion. He’d thrown it at her lazily when she wouldn’t stop fidgeting to get comfortable.
She was smiling as she walked in, her gaze wandering over the other occupants and she gave the pair at the piano a little wave that made him smile. When she went past Molly she touched the younger she-wolf’s head softly and they exchanged greetings. Rory had just started playing -- trying anyway -- the piece Cassidy had been attempting to teach him and their laughter filled the room as Phillipa came up beside the couch.
“Comfy?” she asked him.
“It’ll do,” he said with a smirk, the one he always offered her when he was feeling cheeky or mischievous. Her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed, her hands on her hips like she was annoyed at him. She wasn’t. Quinn knew every single one of her expressions and tells in her body language. Right now? Phillipa was amused.
“Any room for me on there?”
Quinn made a show of stretching his legs. At an even six feet he was taller than most couches were long -- with the exception of the main one in the TV lounge which could seat five people easily, six or seven if they were willing to pile on - and this one was no exception. His feet were off the edge and his legs were propped up on the arm opposite his head. Shrugging his shoulders against the padding behind him he looked up at her. “I don’t think I can help you,” he told her with a smile of feigned apology.
Her eyes narrowed even further. Decisively and with confidence she took the single step required to carry her to the other end of the sofa and took hold of the legs of his jeans. She pulled up.
“Hey!” It was a hollow protest ruined by the laugh that tumbled out with it.
Phillipa smiled cheerfully as she turned and dropped herself down on the cushions. She set his legs over her lap and then patted them with one hand. “There we go,” she said with a satisfied nod of her head. “I knew we could figure something out.” She went on to lay her arms across his legs, offering him a fresh smile, her head tilted as if to ask him what he thought of her ingenuity.
“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled though it was half-heartedly that he did so. It was his turn to narrow his eyes. “This seems a little backwards to me. I thought I was the pillow.”
“Well you wouldn’t move,” she told him with a shrug. Molly tried and failed to stifle a snort of laughter. Quinn turned his gaze on her and simply pointed as if to issue a warning, one he didn’t have ready. She grinned. “Look at it this way,” Phillipa said, bringing his attention back to her. “Now you can be a pillow or a blanket.” She gave his legs another pat.
Quinn tried to look annoyed at her but he was even worse at it than she was and he ended up just slouching further into the cushions. Phillipa gave him a fond smile and that, quite simply, was that.