i'll let myself be taken just for the thrill.
* @Martel arrives on Maria's doorstep at around quarter past six am, quite possibly the most dressed down she's /ever/ seen him, in an undershirt and loose pants. It is probably clear he ran most of the way.
* @Maria is wandering around with her hair loose around her shoulders, in teeny-tiny boyshorts and one of his shirts (stolen) only buttoned twice. This is obviously perfect sleepwear, and she /did/ only just get up ten minutes ago. She lets him in. "Hi, you!"
<@Martel> "Hello." HELLO MARIA obviously what you want right now is a gross sweaty boy kissing you. Yes? No?
<@Maria> She doesn't mind, actually, largely because she was not kidding when she said she really wanted him over there, so she's the tiniest bit needy about it! Though she does feel compelled to add, amused:
<@Maria> "You're all sweaty, if you get me all gross I'm just going to have to shower with you."
<@Martel> "What a tragedy that would be."
<@Maria> "Wouldn't it? And since you cleaaarly don't want that..." She leans out of his grasp, teasingly.
* @Martel tugs her back towards him. "Who said I don't want that?"
<@Maria> "Shakespeare, since you brought up tragedies. Maybe Puccini." She kisses his jawline.
* @Martel rolls his eyes and folds his arms around her waist. After a moment, he leans back, plucking at the shirt material. "How many of these have you got?"
<@Maria> "...just two! Really!" Three. She attempts to distract him with more kissing, wondering as she moves forward if she should make breakfast.
* @Martel ... does not mind this distraction, but after a few moments he extricates himself. "I really should take that shower."
<@Maria> "Ye-eees. I'll take one after you to wake myself up, Clarissa would probably get mad if we--yeah." She grins a bit, sheepish. "Not that I don't wish we could."
* @Martel grins back at her. "Right." Aaaand he will excuse himself to shower off the worst of his run.
* @Maria chooses to leave out a bowl of strawberries and cream for when he gets out, figuring he'll prooobably be hungry. Also, she gets herself some semblance of clothes for the day, although it will take a long-ass time for her to get decently dressed after she showers.
* @Martel does not take long in the shower; his hair is no less ridiculous when wet, and he foregoes a shirt be...cause the undershirt he wore to run over is covered in sweat. He will probably make her give back one of his for a while, eventually. ...o hay strawberries.
<@Maria> "Oh, now you're all clean." Clearly the first thing she should do with that wet hair is wrap herself around him and pull on it. SORRY MARTEL. "I figured you'd already had breakfast, but you might be hungry after running again. I can make something if you want, too."
<@Martel> "I haven't really had breakfast, just something quick before I went out." He tries to pry her hands out of his hair. Damn it, Maria. "That would be good. And thank you."
<@Maria> "Oh, I should make pancakes, then!" She brightens up, sliding her hands down to his shoulders. "I'll turn the oven on while /I/ shower...meanwhile, um--I don't know, do whatever."
<@Martel> "I can entertain myself for a bit." He leans down and kisses her, and then ... goes after the strawberries, because he is a Growing Boy.
* @Maria drops clothes on the floor on her way to the bathroom. Um. (THE BLINDS ARE OPEN, MARIA. Although Captain Creepy across the way isn't up yet, anyway.)
* @Martel will probably CLOSE the blinds if Captain Creepy gets up while he's there.
<@Maria> He does :( And Maria comes back in a towel to check on Martel, so that's awesome. "I'm gonna grab clothes, but could you turn the coffee maker on? It's all set, you just have to hit the on button and turn the timer for me."
<@Martel> "Sure." Martel's...in the process of closing the blinds. "I'll do that now."
* @Maria looks supremely amused. "Are you protecting my virtue, here, by the way?"
<@Martel> "I don't require an audience and you have enough of one with me." So, yes.
* @Maria laughs just a little and saunters over to her room to acquire .....no, not pants, who the hell do you think this is? She gets underwear and a tank top, pretty much, and when she comes back she's running a hand through her hair. "Okay, so! Big question."
* @Martel has turned the coffee maker on and is eyeing it like it's some kind of evil--oh hey. "Big question?"
* @Maria goes to kiss him /again/, apparently she didn't do enough of that before. "Do you want regular pancakes or ones with chocolate chips in?" This is /extremely important/, judging by the look on her face.
<@Martel> "Just the regular kind." Martel enjoys being kissed early in the morning...obviously.
<@Maria> "Okay." She starts getting out the appropriate utensils, after separating from him. "So last night was kind of weird. Heavy, or whatever. Is that why you went running, or were you already amped?"
<@Martel> "I run several times a week regardless." If you're not paying attention, that almost sounds like he answered the question.
* @Maria sort of squints at him sidelong, waiting for elaboration.
* @Martel ... sighs. "Partly, maybe."
<@Maria> "I'm sorry. I don't want to make that worse for you." She turns back to the mixing bowl she has in front of herself.
<@Martel> "You're not. You don't."
* @Maria is VERY FOCUSED on navigating this flour package, because she always manages to get everywhere (see: the bits accumulating on the countertop). "Why do you do that, anyway? I mean--where does it come from?"
<@Martel> "...running?"
<@Maria> "The 'waking up needing to run' thing specifically, since it seems like it's been happening a lot lately. Or usually happens a lot." She glances at him over her shoulder. P.S. She has flour smudged on her cheek already. IT SERIOUSLY WILL GET EVERYWHERE, stand back, Martel.
<@Martel> "It hasn't happened a /lot/, it happened once this week and this morning was a perfectly reasonable hour to be out running." ...:| He leans against the counter, apparently thrown. Possibly this is not something he's tried to explain before.
<@Maria> "Doesn't really answer my question, honey." EGGS. She bites her lip when she cracks them, concerned about getting shells in the mix.
<@Martel> "I don't know where it comes from." He fidgets with part of a strawberry. "It's good for me, that's all."
<@Maria> "I'm glad, then. It's just...I don't know. I like being able to calm you down." Pancakes are getting made, it's awesome, describing the minute details is kind of boring sry3say. "Thank you for talking to me last night, though."
<@Martel> "It's not really about...calm, per se. --You're welcome."
<@Maria> "No? What's it about? --and how many do you want?"
<@Martel> "Working out the energy and not thinking at all. How many are you making?"
<@Maria> "I'm only having two! I can't eat as much as you, though, trillion foot tall boy."
* @Martel considers. "Four?" :]? That's only TWICE as many as she's having.
* @Maria sets two on to start and turns to nudge him with her hip, grinning. "Sure, okay. Whatever you want."
* @Martel smiles slightly, watching her. "Okay. Thank you."
* @Maria flips the pancakes, diligent, and sets them up on a stack that she keeps in the microwave because he cannot eat any yet. Not until they're all ready! "You're all girl scented now, I notice. From using our shower."
<@Martel> "I'll have to do something about that later."
<@Maria> "Like /what/, rolling in Hugo Boss and money?"
<@Martel> "...yes. That is exactly what I meant."
<@Maria> "Dragging you off to my bed probably wouldn't help..." She looks thoughtful, while flipping the second pancake set.
<@Martel> "/Probably/ not."
<@Maria> "And yet I feel this odd compulsion to try! If you plan on staying long enough."
* @Maria sort of pauses after that. Huh.
* @Martel cocks his eyebrow. "What?"
<@Maria> "Nothing!" She busies herself with the last pancake set, shiftylike.
<@Martel> "...I don't believe you."
<@Maria> "Well, you can't make me tell you." ...he probably can.
<@Martel> "Can't I?"
* @Maria eyes him, setting the pancakes in a stack on the countertop. "Don't you dare."
<@Martel> "Please tell me?" You can't argue with that face, SURELY.
<@Maria> "Hey! Don't use the fucking puppy eyes on me!" She's kind of laughing, all the same. "For fuck's sake."
* @Martel is relentlessly adorable.
<@Maria> "All right, God, I was just thinking this is--" She gestures loosely with one hand. "Domestic. Kind of. I forgot you'd be leaving in a couple hours or so."
* @Martel ... is pleased, clearly. "Oh."
* @Maria raises her eyebrows and reaches out to poke his arm. "What."
<@Martel> "What, 'what'?"
<@Maria> "That--look. Damn it." She flails at him a little and then steps closer for /vengeful biting/.
<@Martel> "/Maria/," he protests (kind of), laughing.
* @Maria pushes him, gently. "/Martel/."
<@Martel> "/What/. That was a nice thing to say."
<@Maria> "Well, I'm glad, but you still enjoy it when I flail at you."
<@Martel> "I enjoy most things you do."
<@Maria> "You better, I do my damnedest to be enjoyable in /many senses of the word/. Come here and get pancakes."
<@Martel> "Mmm." He meanders over...with the remaining strawberries. Delicious fruity breakfast.
* @Maria dishes him up four, and leaves the butter and syrup out for him to pick through at his leisure. She is also going to have coffee for herself, which turns out to be more like 'sugar and milk with some coffee mixed in', not the other way around.
* @Maria also turns on the radio. >___> Possibly she's waiting to see how long it'll take before he vetoes this station.
* @Martel will veto it almost immediately, but first he's going to find a knife and cut up a couple strawberries and get a glass of water.
* @Maria keeps knives in the second drawer on the left of the fridge... some of those knives are CONSPICUOUSLY not for kitchenry. Uh. Maria doesn't comment, though, she's busy dancing around her kitchen cleaning up before she eats. (Yes, dancing.)
* @Martel kind of eyes the knives...with INTEREST, oh god. He changes the station on the radio and sits dooown to eat.
* @Maria sits next to him, rather than across. "I've got camp later. You should probably figure out if you're going to sleep with me before I go so I know whether or not I'll have to shower again, at least halfway." ... well, that was direct. She takes a bite of one of her pancakes, serenely.
<@Martel> "...noted." He stares at her for a second like 'what'.
* @Maria returns the look with guilelessness. What /yourself/, champ, she's the one who you make a mess of regularly. "Unless you'd like me to go to camp like that, which would be a pretty interesting first impression, I gotta admit."
<@Martel> "I'm sure it'd be fascinating. No, you should probably have take another shower." ...FYI.
* @Maria looks amused again, and a little bit pleased with herself. "I thought so! Will you miss me terribly all day long?"
<@Martel> "I will. I'll be despondent."
<@Maria> "I'll bring you back a prize. Like a garden snake!" ...don't let her really do that, she likes snakes.
<@Martel> "I think I can live without a garden snake."
<@Maria> "But they're so cute!"
<@Martel> "If you really want a snake, I'm sure we could get something more organized than bringing one back from camp." ...don't...give her ideas, Martel.
<@Maria> "Awww, really? No, I probably shouldn't...I just love them, they're all squirmy and smiley and tricksy." Now, who else does that sound like?
<@Martel> "My god, I can't imagine what appeals to you about that."
<@Maria> "Are you saying /you/ aren't fond of them, too?" >:P
<@Martel> "I don't know. I haven't thought a lot about snakes beyond...religious symbolism and that kind of thing."
<@Maria> "Ooh. The snake that tempted Adam, right? I heard that was Lilith." She grins at him; possibly this is funnier to her than it is to him.
* @Martel does not appear to find it amusing; he's not /offended/, but you can tell when he's stepping back. "Yes, that."
* @Maria tilts her head at him. "I guess I did learn something in religion class."
<@Martel> "That is the point of a class. Learning."
<@Maria> "Funny, I never learn /anything/ in math class. Except--well, nothing mathematic." GOOD SAVE.
* @Martel ... raises his eyebrow. "What?"
<@Maria> "...how to measure grams. Of. Stuff." Hahaha she needs to stop doing drugs :(
<@Martel> "...ah." Martel turns his attention back to what's left of his breakfast.
* @Maria bites her lip. "I know you don't like that."
<@Martel> "Yes, we've discussed it." Kinda.
<@Maria> "Before we started dating, though. Maybe we should talk about it again."
<@Martel> "Maybe." He looks a little guarded.
<@Maria> "You don't...have to hold back." She fusses with the strap of her tank top. "It's important to me, what you think."
<@Martel> "I think I wish you wouldn't do that."
<@Maria> "Why?" It's a genuine question; she doesn't understand what's wrong with pot, for example.
<@Martel> "I don't like it and I don't understand the necessity."
<@Maria> "It calms me down. Pot, anyway. What do you dislike about it?"
<@Martel> "You prefer calming me down to me running around the streets at three am," he points out, which is clearly avoidance.
<@Maria> "Yes," she agrees, "Answer the question, though, please."
<@Martel> "It's a weakness," he says, flatly. "Exploitable."
<@Maria> "...I'm not dependent." She bites her lip, though, thinking. "You're worried I'll be exploited by someone?"
<@Martel> "Sort of. I guess."
<@Maria> "Sort of?"
<@Martel> "It's--I don't know how to explain it."
<@Maria> "Try," Maria suggests, "I'm listening."
* @Martel is quiet for a while, elbows on the table and hands clasped in front of his face.
* @Maria waits, watching his expression.
* @Martel looks...annoyed, mostly, the way he tends to when he doesn't want to have a conversation. "I'm not worried about that, I'd handle it. Or you would." FAIL to save, but he's still talking. "It's that /I/ think--have thought--about how to use that in other people and it's...uncomfortable."
* @Maria doesn't say anything for a second, and then breathes out. "First: are you done eating?" ...that might not be what he expected her to say, but does she ever say the anticipated thing?
* @Martel has NO IDEA what she might say, so while it throws him, it's not like he was expecting something else. He nods, briefly.
* @Maria casually slides off her chair and goes to sit on his lap, because it just makes these conversations a million times easier for her.
* @Martel startles, slightly, but less than he did a moment ago. After all, Marias in his lap: not that surprising. "Hello."
<@Maria> "Hi." She's thinking, now, while getting comfortable. "I'm not dependent on anything. But I understand your point about it being an exploitable weakness, I guess. I just--mm, do you remember when we were on the phone that first time?"
<@Martel> "It's kind of stuck in my head, yes."
<@Maria> "I wasn't kidding when I have that...weird impulse, that--overstimulated sense. Pot does help. But so do you."
<@Martel> "I know you weren't. And if I thought you were...'dependent', then we'd be having a different conversation."
<@Maria> "One with less options?" Wry smile; she appreciates that quality of his, but she's...kinda guessing here.
<@Martel> "Yes, exactly."
* @Maria hmms, thoughtful, leaning her head against his shoulder. "I'll stop. If you ask."
* @Martel drums his fingertips on her hip for a moment, actually weighing it. "Please stop."
<@Maria> "Okay." She turns her head and kisses his cheek. "It's gonna mean I'm more obnoxious than usual, though. For a while."
* @Martel kisses her. "Okay." There's a pause. "I can't imagine why you would, but it'd probably be a good idea not to mention any of this to Elena."
<@Maria> "Hm? All right, sure." She presses her face into his neck, briefly, and then straightens up. "You keep trying to clean me up, I'm gonna have to pick up new vices."
<@Martel> "Thank you." He bounces one knee underneath her. "I think you'll be fine."
* @Maria makes a tiny girly indignant noise at the bouncing. "I don't knooow...I have a sin quota, you know. Means I'll have to take my clothes off in public more."
<@Martel> "Really, I don't think so."
<@Maria> "But I just can't help myself." :( :( SHE'S COMPELLED, Martel.
<@Martel> "Clearly, why you have me."
<@Maria> "Clearly." She squirms her way off his lap, if permitted. "But I think I'm having an attack right now, actually!" Weirdest girl ever, y/y?
<@Martel> Y, so much Y. He lets her go, amused. "Oh, really."
* @Maria is backing up toward her room, and sliding her tank top up over her stomach as she goes. "I should clearly leave you alone for now. In case it's contagious."
<@Martel> "Mmm, you've got a point. As neither of us have much to take off in the first place." ...he's doing that shark thing again. Except out of water.
* @Maria backs up into the wall next to her bedroom door. "Don't tell me: you have an immunity?"
<@Martel> "Mmm...something like that." >:3
<@Maria> "Guess I'll just have to work harder." ... by tossing her tank top at his face, apparently.
* @Martel really only has like...pants on right now, so he's just going to get them into her bedroom with the door shut before anything comes off /him/. Clarissa probably appreciates that.
* @Maria ...also locks it, and then says, seriously, "Well, now you're trapped." Yes, that's obviously very alarming for him.
<@Martel> "Horrors."
<@Maria> "Shut up." Kissing, y/y?
<@Martel> YYYYY.
* @Maria is wandering around with her hair loose around her shoulders, in teeny-tiny boyshorts and one of his shirts (stolen) only buttoned twice. This is obviously perfect sleepwear, and she /did/ only just get up ten minutes ago. She lets him in. "Hi, you!"
<@Martel> "Hello." HELLO MARIA obviously what you want right now is a gross sweaty boy kissing you. Yes? No?
<@Maria> She doesn't mind, actually, largely because she was not kidding when she said she really wanted him over there, so she's the tiniest bit needy about it! Though she does feel compelled to add, amused:
<@Maria> "You're all sweaty, if you get me all gross I'm just going to have to shower with you."
<@Martel> "What a tragedy that would be."
<@Maria> "Wouldn't it? And since you cleaaarly don't want that..." She leans out of his grasp, teasingly.
* @Martel tugs her back towards him. "Who said I don't want that?"
<@Maria> "Shakespeare, since you brought up tragedies. Maybe Puccini." She kisses his jawline.
* @Martel rolls his eyes and folds his arms around her waist. After a moment, he leans back, plucking at the shirt material. "How many of these have you got?"
<@Maria> "...just two! Really!" Three. She attempts to distract him with more kissing, wondering as she moves forward if she should make breakfast.
* @Martel ... does not mind this distraction, but after a few moments he extricates himself. "I really should take that shower."
<@Maria> "Ye-eees. I'll take one after you to wake myself up, Clarissa would probably get mad if we--yeah." She grins a bit, sheepish. "Not that I don't wish we could."
* @Martel grins back at her. "Right." Aaaand he will excuse himself to shower off the worst of his run.
* @Maria chooses to leave out a bowl of strawberries and cream for when he gets out, figuring he'll prooobably be hungry. Also, she gets herself some semblance of clothes for the day, although it will take a long-ass time for her to get decently dressed after she showers.
* @Martel does not take long in the shower; his hair is no less ridiculous when wet, and he foregoes a shirt be...cause the undershirt he wore to run over is covered in sweat. He will probably make her give back one of his for a while, eventually. ...o hay strawberries.
<@Maria> "Oh, now you're all clean." Clearly the first thing she should do with that wet hair is wrap herself around him and pull on it. SORRY MARTEL. "I figured you'd already had breakfast, but you might be hungry after running again. I can make something if you want, too."
<@Martel> "I haven't really had breakfast, just something quick before I went out." He tries to pry her hands out of his hair. Damn it, Maria. "That would be good. And thank you."
<@Maria> "Oh, I should make pancakes, then!" She brightens up, sliding her hands down to his shoulders. "I'll turn the oven on while /I/ shower...meanwhile, um--I don't know, do whatever."
<@Martel> "I can entertain myself for a bit." He leans down and kisses her, and then ... goes after the strawberries, because he is a Growing Boy.
* @Maria drops clothes on the floor on her way to the bathroom. Um. (THE BLINDS ARE OPEN, MARIA. Although Captain Creepy across the way isn't up yet, anyway.)
* @Martel will probably CLOSE the blinds if Captain Creepy gets up while he's there.
<@Maria> He does :( And Maria comes back in a towel to check on Martel, so that's awesome. "I'm gonna grab clothes, but could you turn the coffee maker on? It's all set, you just have to hit the on button and turn the timer for me."
<@Martel> "Sure." Martel's...in the process of closing the blinds. "I'll do that now."
* @Maria looks supremely amused. "Are you protecting my virtue, here, by the way?"
<@Martel> "I don't require an audience and you have enough of one with me." So, yes.
* @Maria laughs just a little and saunters over to her room to acquire .....no, not pants, who the hell do you think this is? She gets underwear and a tank top, pretty much, and when she comes back she's running a hand through her hair. "Okay, so! Big question."
* @Martel has turned the coffee maker on and is eyeing it like it's some kind of evil--oh hey. "Big question?"
* @Maria goes to kiss him /again/, apparently she didn't do enough of that before. "Do you want regular pancakes or ones with chocolate chips in?" This is /extremely important/, judging by the look on her face.
<@Martel> "Just the regular kind." Martel enjoys being kissed early in the morning...obviously.
<@Maria> "Okay." She starts getting out the appropriate utensils, after separating from him. "So last night was kind of weird. Heavy, or whatever. Is that why you went running, or were you already amped?"
<@Martel> "I run several times a week regardless." If you're not paying attention, that almost sounds like he answered the question.
* @Maria sort of squints at him sidelong, waiting for elaboration.
* @Martel ... sighs. "Partly, maybe."
<@Maria> "I'm sorry. I don't want to make that worse for you." She turns back to the mixing bowl she has in front of herself.
<@Martel> "You're not. You don't."
* @Maria is VERY FOCUSED on navigating this flour package, because she always manages to get everywhere (see: the bits accumulating on the countertop). "Why do you do that, anyway? I mean--where does it come from?"
<@Martel> "...running?"
<@Maria> "The 'waking up needing to run' thing specifically, since it seems like it's been happening a lot lately. Or usually happens a lot." She glances at him over her shoulder. P.S. She has flour smudged on her cheek already. IT SERIOUSLY WILL GET EVERYWHERE, stand back, Martel.
<@Martel> "It hasn't happened a /lot/, it happened once this week and this morning was a perfectly reasonable hour to be out running." ...:| He leans against the counter, apparently thrown. Possibly this is not something he's tried to explain before.
<@Maria> "Doesn't really answer my question, honey." EGGS. She bites her lip when she cracks them, concerned about getting shells in the mix.
<@Martel> "I don't know where it comes from." He fidgets with part of a strawberry. "It's good for me, that's all."
<@Maria> "I'm glad, then. It's just...I don't know. I like being able to calm you down." Pancakes are getting made, it's awesome, describing the minute details is kind of boring sry3say. "Thank you for talking to me last night, though."
<@Martel> "It's not really about...calm, per se. --You're welcome."
<@Maria> "No? What's it about? --and how many do you want?"
<@Martel> "Working out the energy and not thinking at all. How many are you making?"
<@Maria> "I'm only having two! I can't eat as much as you, though, trillion foot tall boy."
* @Martel considers. "Four?" :]? That's only TWICE as many as she's having.
* @Maria sets two on to start and turns to nudge him with her hip, grinning. "Sure, okay. Whatever you want."
* @Martel smiles slightly, watching her. "Okay. Thank you."
* @Maria flips the pancakes, diligent, and sets them up on a stack that she keeps in the microwave because he cannot eat any yet. Not until they're all ready! "You're all girl scented now, I notice. From using our shower."
<@Martel> "I'll have to do something about that later."
<@Maria> "Like /what/, rolling in Hugo Boss and money?"
<@Martel> "...yes. That is exactly what I meant."
<@Maria> "Dragging you off to my bed probably wouldn't help..." She looks thoughtful, while flipping the second pancake set.
<@Martel> "/Probably/ not."
<@Maria> "And yet I feel this odd compulsion to try! If you plan on staying long enough."
* @Maria sort of pauses after that. Huh.
* @Martel cocks his eyebrow. "What?"
<@Maria> "Nothing!" She busies herself with the last pancake set, shiftylike.
<@Martel> "...I don't believe you."
<@Maria> "Well, you can't make me tell you." ...he probably can.
<@Martel> "Can't I?"
* @Maria eyes him, setting the pancakes in a stack on the countertop. "Don't you dare."
<@Martel> "Please tell me?" You can't argue with that face, SURELY.
<@Maria> "Hey! Don't use the fucking puppy eyes on me!" She's kind of laughing, all the same. "For fuck's sake."
* @Martel is relentlessly adorable.
<@Maria> "All right, God, I was just thinking this is--" She gestures loosely with one hand. "Domestic. Kind of. I forgot you'd be leaving in a couple hours or so."
* @Martel ... is pleased, clearly. "Oh."
* @Maria raises her eyebrows and reaches out to poke his arm. "What."
<@Martel> "What, 'what'?"
<@Maria> "That--look. Damn it." She flails at him a little and then steps closer for /vengeful biting/.
<@Martel> "/Maria/," he protests (kind of), laughing.
* @Maria pushes him, gently. "/Martel/."
<@Martel> "/What/. That was a nice thing to say."
<@Maria> "Well, I'm glad, but you still enjoy it when I flail at you."
<@Martel> "I enjoy most things you do."
<@Maria> "You better, I do my damnedest to be enjoyable in /many senses of the word/. Come here and get pancakes."
<@Martel> "Mmm." He meanders over...with the remaining strawberries. Delicious fruity breakfast.
* @Maria dishes him up four, and leaves the butter and syrup out for him to pick through at his leisure. She is also going to have coffee for herself, which turns out to be more like 'sugar and milk with some coffee mixed in', not the other way around.
* @Maria also turns on the radio. >___> Possibly she's waiting to see how long it'll take before he vetoes this station.
* @Martel will veto it almost immediately, but first he's going to find a knife and cut up a couple strawberries and get a glass of water.
* @Maria keeps knives in the second drawer on the left of the fridge... some of those knives are CONSPICUOUSLY not for kitchenry. Uh. Maria doesn't comment, though, she's busy dancing around her kitchen cleaning up before she eats. (Yes, dancing.)
* @Martel kind of eyes the knives...with INTEREST, oh god. He changes the station on the radio and sits dooown to eat.
* @Maria sits next to him, rather than across. "I've got camp later. You should probably figure out if you're going to sleep with me before I go so I know whether or not I'll have to shower again, at least halfway." ... well, that was direct. She takes a bite of one of her pancakes, serenely.
<@Martel> "...noted." He stares at her for a second like 'what'.
* @Maria returns the look with guilelessness. What /yourself/, champ, she's the one who you make a mess of regularly. "Unless you'd like me to go to camp like that, which would be a pretty interesting first impression, I gotta admit."
<@Martel> "I'm sure it'd be fascinating. No, you should probably have take another shower." ...FYI.
* @Maria looks amused again, and a little bit pleased with herself. "I thought so! Will you miss me terribly all day long?"
<@Martel> "I will. I'll be despondent."
<@Maria> "I'll bring you back a prize. Like a garden snake!" ...don't let her really do that, she likes snakes.
<@Martel> "I think I can live without a garden snake."
<@Maria> "But they're so cute!"
<@Martel> "If you really want a snake, I'm sure we could get something more organized than bringing one back from camp." ...don't...give her ideas, Martel.
<@Maria> "Awww, really? No, I probably shouldn't...I just love them, they're all squirmy and smiley and tricksy." Now, who else does that sound like?
<@Martel> "My god, I can't imagine what appeals to you about that."
<@Maria> "Are you saying /you/ aren't fond of them, too?" >:P
<@Martel> "I don't know. I haven't thought a lot about snakes beyond...religious symbolism and that kind of thing."
<@Maria> "Ooh. The snake that tempted Adam, right? I heard that was Lilith." She grins at him; possibly this is funnier to her than it is to him.
* @Martel does not appear to find it amusing; he's not /offended/, but you can tell when he's stepping back. "Yes, that."
* @Maria tilts her head at him. "I guess I did learn something in religion class."
<@Martel> "That is the point of a class. Learning."
<@Maria> "Funny, I never learn /anything/ in math class. Except--well, nothing mathematic." GOOD SAVE.
* @Martel ... raises his eyebrow. "What?"
<@Maria> "...how to measure grams. Of. Stuff." Hahaha she needs to stop doing drugs :(
<@Martel> "...ah." Martel turns his attention back to what's left of his breakfast.
* @Maria bites her lip. "I know you don't like that."
<@Martel> "Yes, we've discussed it." Kinda.
<@Maria> "Before we started dating, though. Maybe we should talk about it again."
<@Martel> "Maybe." He looks a little guarded.
<@Maria> "You don't...have to hold back." She fusses with the strap of her tank top. "It's important to me, what you think."
<@Martel> "I think I wish you wouldn't do that."
<@Maria> "Why?" It's a genuine question; she doesn't understand what's wrong with pot, for example.
<@Martel> "I don't like it and I don't understand the necessity."
<@Maria> "It calms me down. Pot, anyway. What do you dislike about it?"
<@Martel> "You prefer calming me down to me running around the streets at three am," he points out, which is clearly avoidance.
<@Maria> "Yes," she agrees, "Answer the question, though, please."
<@Martel> "It's a weakness," he says, flatly. "Exploitable."
<@Maria> "...I'm not dependent." She bites her lip, though, thinking. "You're worried I'll be exploited by someone?"
<@Martel> "Sort of. I guess."
<@Maria> "Sort of?"
<@Martel> "It's--I don't know how to explain it."
<@Maria> "Try," Maria suggests, "I'm listening."
* @Martel is quiet for a while, elbows on the table and hands clasped in front of his face.
* @Maria waits, watching his expression.
* @Martel looks...annoyed, mostly, the way he tends to when he doesn't want to have a conversation. "I'm not worried about that, I'd handle it. Or you would." FAIL to save, but he's still talking. "It's that /I/ think--have thought--about how to use that in other people and it's...uncomfortable."
* @Maria doesn't say anything for a second, and then breathes out. "First: are you done eating?" ...that might not be what he expected her to say, but does she ever say the anticipated thing?
* @Martel has NO IDEA what she might say, so while it throws him, it's not like he was expecting something else. He nods, briefly.
* @Maria casually slides off her chair and goes to sit on his lap, because it just makes these conversations a million times easier for her.
* @Martel startles, slightly, but less than he did a moment ago. After all, Marias in his lap: not that surprising. "Hello."
<@Maria> "Hi." She's thinking, now, while getting comfortable. "I'm not dependent on anything. But I understand your point about it being an exploitable weakness, I guess. I just--mm, do you remember when we were on the phone that first time?"
<@Martel> "It's kind of stuck in my head, yes."
<@Maria> "I wasn't kidding when I have that...weird impulse, that--overstimulated sense. Pot does help. But so do you."
<@Martel> "I know you weren't. And if I thought you were...'dependent', then we'd be having a different conversation."
<@Maria> "One with less options?" Wry smile; she appreciates that quality of his, but she's...kinda guessing here.
<@Martel> "Yes, exactly."
* @Maria hmms, thoughtful, leaning her head against his shoulder. "I'll stop. If you ask."
* @Martel drums his fingertips on her hip for a moment, actually weighing it. "Please stop."
<@Maria> "Okay." She turns her head and kisses his cheek. "It's gonna mean I'm more obnoxious than usual, though. For a while."
* @Martel kisses her. "Okay." There's a pause. "I can't imagine why you would, but it'd probably be a good idea not to mention any of this to Elena."
<@Maria> "Hm? All right, sure." She presses her face into his neck, briefly, and then straightens up. "You keep trying to clean me up, I'm gonna have to pick up new vices."
<@Martel> "Thank you." He bounces one knee underneath her. "I think you'll be fine."
* @Maria makes a tiny girly indignant noise at the bouncing. "I don't knooow...I have a sin quota, you know. Means I'll have to take my clothes off in public more."
<@Martel> "Really, I don't think so."
<@Maria> "But I just can't help myself." :( :( SHE'S COMPELLED, Martel.
<@Martel> "Clearly, why you have me."
<@Maria> "Clearly." She squirms her way off his lap, if permitted. "But I think I'm having an attack right now, actually!" Weirdest girl ever, y/y?
<@Martel> Y, so much Y. He lets her go, amused. "Oh, really."
* @Maria is backing up toward her room, and sliding her tank top up over her stomach as she goes. "I should clearly leave you alone for now. In case it's contagious."
<@Martel> "Mmm, you've got a point. As neither of us have much to take off in the first place." ...he's doing that shark thing again. Except out of water.
* @Maria backs up into the wall next to her bedroom door. "Don't tell me: you have an immunity?"
<@Martel> "Mmm...something like that." >:3
<@Maria> "Guess I'll just have to work harder." ... by tossing her tank top at his face, apparently.
* @Martel really only has like...pants on right now, so he's just going to get them into her bedroom with the door shut before anything comes off /him/. Clarissa probably appreciates that.
* @Maria ...also locks it, and then says, seriously, "Well, now you're trapped." Yes, that's obviously very alarming for him.
<@Martel> "Horrors."
<@Maria> "Shut up." Kissing, y/y?
<@Martel> YYYYY.