Double, Double Toil and So Forth...

[defystereotype]

He isn't certain when it happened. Or how, or why. He can't even be certain that he simply isn't hallucinating this whole disturbing affair but, whatever the cause or reason behind it, he knows that his shirt shouldn't be pooled around him like this, completely swamping him in untold amounts of coarse linen. Strange, he'd never thought the weave

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[headofapin]

For the past two days it had been snowing, covering the ground with a thick layer of powdery white snow, and it was snowing still. Gabriella loved it. She loved winter, odd as it was, but she liked the nip of cold, she liked the atmosphere it brought with it, and most of all she liked the holiday season that came in winter, especially this year

[defystereotype]

Barefoot and wrapped in a scrap of what was once his shirt, William stumbles forward more from the shock of the experience than anything -- nothing ever bumps into him, at least nothing that isn’t at least the size of a car -- and only just about manages to catch himself from sprawling headfirst into the snow. But her voice is unmistakable, as sweet and warm and kind as he remembers it, and, in his vague sense of panic, it’s all he can do to restrain himself from grabbing at her.

He doesn’t say anything, so stunning and unusual is the experience of looking her in the eye, of standing next to her in the snow without a great chasm of disparity between them. He just stares at her, too bewildered to do much else except grasp at the improvised toga he fashioned for himself, flush with cold but too dazed to shiver.

Finally, he takes a breath, the air clouding his words. “Hello.”

[headofapin]

Naturally from the state of his dress she at first thinks that he's some poor homeless man, and so the first thought that pops into her head when she sees him is that she should spare him a blanket, so that he has something to wrap up in to keep warm.

For a minute, and a very long minute at that she stares at him. Gaping. Before there's a shriek. One of delight, and her bags fall onto the ground as she throws her arms around him, a tight hug that she can finally give him instead of just his thumb. She presses her face against his neck, too, smelling him to make sure that it's really him, because while not the most pleasant of smells, it's him, she'd recognize it anywhere, and it makes the hug just a little bit tighter.

"...hi."

[defystereotype]

He grunts as she barrels into him but, for reasons he can’t fully comprehend, he wraps his arms around her shoulders nonetheless, pressing her tightly to his chest, his nose buried in her hair as he breathes her in. Standing here like this, he can almost ignore the feeling of snow slowly melting between his toes.

“Gabriella. Oh, Gabriella,” he sighs near her ear, “I - I’m sorry to barge in. Like this.” He isn’t. Not in the least, but it seems only polite to say it. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

But, if he were honest with himself, even if he had a number of choices at his disposal, he’s not sure he would have chosen to go anywhere else. He leans further into her, all propriety forgotten in the face of his humanity. “You’re so warm…”

[headofapin]

She's surprised they don't fall over, but it's a good thing, she reckons. She's holding him though. Clinging to him, as though she's afraid that if she lets go he'll start growing again, and they'll never have a moment like this again

[defystereotype]

He follows dumbly after her, too bewildered, too fascinated by the interior of the building to think of anything even remotely intelligent to say. Letting her lead him up the stairs -- a stairwell for goodness sake! With electric lights and carpet and everything! -- and before he realizes it they’re at the front door of her apartment, the one he’d peered enviously into so many times before. He blinks stupidly as he steps through the door and, somehow, the familiar room looks entirely different from this side of it, though he can’t explain why. Brighter, somehow. More welcoming.

He curls his frigid toes into the rug, looking down at it as though to confirm that it’s really there, that he isn’t simply imagining all of this.

“I - I think…” He stumbles further inside, immersing himself firmly into her home and her life, the one that, just yesterday, felt so terribly far away. “… I think I need to sit down.”

[headofapin]

The walls of her living room, which is where they step in after she nudges him further into the apartment, are lined with books, shelf upon shelf crammed full, though she has more in boxes packed away. She's not saying anything, she's still in a slight state of shock as well, but she has her hands on him, having slipped off her winter boots now, to show that she's still shorter than him, though now only by a handful of inches. She does move away for a minute, just to get her jacket off, and in the closet, before she's behind him again, and though perhaps it is a bit forward, she slips her arms around his waist, pressing herself to him, and just...being close

[defystereotype]

He stares unseeingly at nothing in particular, though his eyes do rove over the vast amount of books she has as he folds himself into the chair, one hand habitually going to the back of his head, a nervous gesture she’s seen often enough. He leans back into the chair, struck by how comfortable it is. He’s never known anything quite like it.

“I’m in your home,” he mutters breathlessly to himself, as though he can’t quite bring himself to believe it. He huffs an incredulous laugh. “I’m in your home. I never -”

Drawing the blanket around himself, he blinks at her suddenly, as though suddenly realizing that she’s there as well, that, strangely enough, he has to look up at her. “I’m not sure. Does - You can drink chocolate?” Of course, she should realize that since giving him his first taste of chocolate, that she’s created something of a monster. Not to mention that, human or not, he still looks thinner than he should, in danger of even becoming emaciated. The thought of something as luxurious and inconceivable as chocolate makes his

[headofapin]

Of course she's seen it before, and she thinks it's sweet. It made him seem...humble, when he was the size he was before, and one of the many things that told her that he was unlike anyone she'd ever met before.

"Yes, yes you are," she replied fondly, reaching up to his hair to push it back off his face, though she does wrinkle her nose just a bit because it's cold and wet and well. Dirty, not that it's a surprise, though. It makes her giggle just a bit as she stands in front of him

[defystereotype]

He’s distracted from his limited but undoubtedly quizzical examination of the heater when she comes back into the room with her hands full. And, Lord, he can already smell the chocolate from here. Is there anything more delicious in the world? William seriously doubts it. Though, if she knows him at all, she probably already knows what his reply will be.

“No, this is more than enough. Thank you, dear.” Pulling the blanket closer around himself he doesn‘t reach for the mug she set on the table just yet, despite the very real and overwhelming temptation. He looks at her questioningly. “… Aren’t you having any?”

[headofapin]

She thinks it's sweet the way he's peering at it, prodding it and whatnot. It makes a small smile form on her lips that she tries to hide, but everything he's doing is just so sweet. It's like a kitten being brought into a new home, and exploring it for the first time. Speaking of the devil~, a small kitten is now climbing up the blanket to curl up in William's lap.

"But you look like you're starving. I really don't mind. I can make you chicken. Or I think I have a roast in the freezer, though that might take a few hours... What do you want?" She looks at him, and the cat. "That's the Beast. He's four months old." She shook her head, then. "I had a peppermint mocha while I was out."

[defystereotype]

“… Hello.” The kitten is shot a look of surprise as it kneads at the blanket covering his lap, its tiny claws flexing into the fabric. William’s so distracted that, for a brief moment, he almost forgets that Gabriella asked him a question. He lifts his head quickly. “Oh, erm. I honestly don’t mind. Anything that doesn’t cause you too much trouble, really.”

The kitten suddenly butts its head insistently against his chest and, uncertain how to handle the situation, he reaches for it, lifting it up in the flat of his palm much in the same way as he used to carefully cradle Gabriella. He tilts his head as the poor creature mewls in protest. “You’re a strange little thing, aren’t you?”

[headofapin]

Gabriella has to fight back laughter as she watches the interaction between William and the Beast, from the way he's so easily warming up to him like he's known him all along, to William's slightly confused reaction. "I'll...make you something light, at first." She finally concluded, that way he wouldn't have to feet guilty about putting her out, and it was probably best to ease him into eating again.

"He just wants you to pet him," she explained, now unable to stop her laughter as she watches him, and hears the mewing. "He's very demanding when it comes to attention."

She moved back to the kitchen then, to first of all get the aforementioned roast out of the freezer and into the sink, for the next day, and deciding that for now she'd make him eggs, bacon, and toast. Breakfast for dinner~ 

Two days feels like a lifetime D:

[defystereotype]

“Hmm.” Rather than setting the kitten back in his lap, he drops it gently on the floor before levering himself up to his feet, moving to follow her to the kitchen. The journey’s made more difficult by the kitten making a nuisance of itself as it dodges around his feet to stop in front of him every few paces. The bloody thing

DON'T EVER LEAVE ME AGAIN BB

[headofapin]

Of course The Beast is a nuisance. Sorry, William. He likes attention. A lot of it, and since he's taken a keen interest in you, you're likely stuck with him.

Gabriella, on the other hand, is in the kitchen humming to herself the whole time, sort of lost in her own little world. It's a Christmas song, 'Angels We Have Heard On High' to be exact, because she went to church earlier, and saw the choir practicing.

She jumps a little at the sound of her name, but turns to him, and smiles, leaning with her hip against the counter. "Oh! Um. I do? I have a pair of sweatpants, and boxers, and a dress shirt, or two I think, from ex boyfriends. Oh. Dear I sound like a creep for keeping all that, don't I? But. You can loan that. I thought you might want to take a shower first, though." She paused to breathe, and bite her lip, and then smile at him; a sprinkling of red going across the bridge of her nose as she blushed. "And tomorrow. We'll go shopping tomorrow."

/clings!

[defystereotype]

Unfamiliar with the song -- in fact, music is a somewhat foreign concept altogether, except for the bits and pieces he’s managed to overhear on occasion -- William can’t appreciate the nostalgia and warmth of the season. His experience of December is one entirely lacking of everything to do with Christmas, more reminiscent of difficult times and unforgiving weather. Lean, is the word he’d use to describe. Very lean