Harry's Apartment [B36] - Olympian Meadows - NYC

[forge_fire]

The door is open, the warm flicker of the fireplace glowing on the wall opposite his door. Harry is inside, making a simple soup and, at this very moment, slicing a sandwich in two and setting both halves neatly on a small, simple earthenware plate. A blink and he checks the soup, lifting the lid to take a smiling wiff of it before dipping a

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[sheila_nagig]

She doesn't even knock; just breezes in with a smile.

"Harry, you busy? I've been up to my elbows in vagina all day and could really use some male conversation to keep my mind off it," she says, barely stopping for breath. "Can you believe it? I mean, really, why'd I bloody take the job anyway? Why am I working for shit? Harry? Harry, are you even listening?"

She turns around to look at him as she sits down.

"Ooh, soup. Got any spare?"

[forge_fire]

He smiles, shaking his head to the first, then the second, shrugging at the third and forth and finally rolling his eyes and nodding to the fifth. The last has him standing again and hobbling over to the stove to pour her a cup of soup. He also uses the fixings still out to make her a sandwich, even though she didn't ask for one, because he knows her well enough. A plate and a spoon added for ease and he limps back, placing the items before her with a warm smile and a kiss to the cheek before he returns to his own seat to eat his own meal.

[sheila_nagig]

"You spoil me," she says with a grin before taking a bite of the sandwich and a sip of the soup. "So anyway, how was your day? Got a zillion and one requests for odd jobs yet, or did you get them all finished before nine this morning just as I got my first break?"

She smiles at him and tucks in, making gestures with her sandwich as she eats that accompanies nothing but perhaps a story she's meant to be telling.

"...and then they made me their chief. and then, can you believe it, she actually asked me - and I really couldn't help myself but laugh, just a little - if she could get pregnant from having sex with her girlfriend. She really didn't know. It's incredible. I swear, the sooner I get the money together for the health clinic the better."

[forge_fire]

He shrugs, brushing any work he might have had right off of her concerns because it most certainly is done for the day and has been done long enough for him to have made the soup and the sandwich and clean up a little.

Another shrug as she shares her woes.

"You wouldn't believe what I found in an engine." He offers in return.

[sheila_nagig]

"Go on; try me," she says cheerfully as she polishes off the sandwich. "And if I guess properly, I get to tell you what I found, too, though you probably don't want to know and I shouldn't tell you."

She laughs - and when she laughs, she laughs with her whole body, crossing her legs and settling her hands on them.

"No, seriously. What did you find? I have no clue about engines unless we're talking about the motor functions of people, sweety."

[forge_fire]

"Dead rat."

And it's said with a mild disgust, mild amusement, and mild wonder. Harry's...very much about the mild, at least on the surface, though she might notice the glint of irritation in his eyes as he mentions it. Machines and mechanisms are his favorite, and the idea of such an abused vehicle angers him in a strange sort of way that isn't easy to explain.

[sheila_nagig]

"Ew," she says, look of disgust on her face. "What happened? Someone stick it in there? Tell me it wasn't building a nest or something and I'll be happy, but ew. Really. Hopefully not in your engine."

She gives a neat little shudder accompanied by another ew, and shakes her head.

"I don't understand it. Do people not check under their bonnets?"

She looks at him, eyebrow raised. "What did they bring it in for?"

[forge_fire]

"Knocking."

And if she can sense the annoyance in his voice as he says it, she's at least paying attention. He was a specialist, a master craftsman, one who regularly made art out of whatever job was given to him. He keps his shop open for repairs as a service, a way to help the community as he often tried to do, but his money (and his heart) was in his special orders and word-of-mouth jobs. Most car jobs came under that second category, with Harry called in as a last resort. He would have to talk to his clientele about spreading his number around too thin if he kept getting ones like this.

[sheila_nagig]

"Hey, come on sweety, really, it's got to get better than that, right? Hell, you can come up to mine anytime and see what needs fixing. My washer always seems to be on the wrong side of 'needs to see a specialist' no matter what I do."

She takes the plates up to the sink, washing them without a second thought and leaving them to dry, leaning against the sink.

"You been out this month except for work?"

[forge_fire]

He lets out a brief chuckle, giving her a look which asks her quite politely if she remembers who she's talking to because of course he hasn't been out because he's a homebody and always has been, thank you very much. The accompanying sigh adds to that that he's never had much luck with it, that he's tired of trying in some ways because thousands of years of trying to find happiness is a little long to hold out hope.

[sheila_nagig]

She rolls her eyes.

"Honestly."

She walks to him, wrapping arms around his shoulders.

"Friday night. Get dressed up. I wanna take you out; doesn't have to be to a bar or a club or anything unless you want it to be. Just want to get you out."

[forge_fire]

He shrugs, leaning into her hug maybe a little more than she expected. For someone very much about warmth and comfort, offering it to any who would enter his home...he got very little in return. He wasn't touched often, people for some reason put off by his disability in a strange way he'd always found nonsensical, and his quiet nature seemed to make people think he was shy. But her hug felt good, the warmth of her better, and the voice her his shoulder was downright pleasant.

[sheila_nagig]

"Is that a yes, then?" she asks, doinking his nose with a finger. "I'll take you to a great place, they do great thai food, or we can go somewhere you want."

Her head lying on his shoulder, facing him, and she sighs in a pleasantly surprised way.

[forge_fire]

He blinks at the doink to his nose before smiling sweetly at her, the air around them warming perhaps the tiniest bit as she lays her head on his shoulder.

"You're beautiful."

And he blinks.

"Th-that is...that...that is, that's...that's fine. Thai."

[sheila_nagig]

"You don't like shirt?" she asks with a smile, blushing rather easily, but not quite letting go yet.

She presses a kiss to his cheek.

"And you really do flatter me, sweety. Thanks."

[forge_fire]

He blinks again...and the kiss definitely raises the temperature of the room, or at least the two or three feet near him.

"Not flattery."

And he's a little pink, quite a feat to accomplish on the forge god, but he's still leaning into her a little bit.