a man who loves a diamond.

[oleanderknife]

Hasibe is still not quite used to spending her days in the house, though she's taken to long walks around the neighborhood in the morning to occupy herself--it's not as though she has nothing to do, but she will definitely be happier when she is working more consistently, no matter what path she chooses.

Comments

[beingtwofold]

Henry takes the book gingerly, expression dubious in the customary set of people who just do not understand theatre in general, and anything really avant-garde even less. Do not ask him how he feels about musicals. The concepts are not even remotely similar, of course, but one may surmise someone still as characterized--maybe more so, now--by restraint as the good doctor here just does not get the appeal of either people bursting fitfully into song, or performing strange metaphors involving giant wire cages and chicken feet.

...come to think of it, definitely don't ask him about performance art.

"You know, I have to ask Gabriel about this, because I have a lawyer precisely so I don't have to think about this kind of thing," he's so good with money, really, "but it's possible I have a patent on some--soap, or something, that I can sell."

It may not still exist, a lot of that was eaten up keeping his dad in McLean, but the possibility exists! Meanwhile, he flips through the book idly at first, then with increasing--not concern, exactly, but the tight vaguely dark expression he gets sometimes, when he is just not handling something, or at least not well. "This is--some heavy subject matter," he begins, aiming at least for diplomacy.

[oleanderknife]

"Are you on 'Blasted' or 'Cleansed'--" She leans to the side to catch a glimpse of what he's looking at; curiosity apparently satisfied (those are the darkest two that she can think of, Phaedra's Love aside, but that one is pretty rarely used and significantly shorter than the others besides), she looks up at Henry's expression.

"Yeah--there's...a lot of violence, a lot of sex, a lot of the combination of the two, and, well, the first one is all about the Bosnian war, and 'Cleansed' is mostly about an illegal medical facility that tortures its patients." Sort of, anyway. She bites her lip, half-wondering where this is going, half-suspecting she has any idea. Hasibe is more than willing to explain what she can of theater, of this performance aspect of her life, but she is aware that certain things are just not innate in everyone, and she's fine with that; speaking as it personally pertains to herself and Henry, their differences are part of what make them fit together.

[beingtwofold]

Henry responds to her biting her own lip by touching his thumb to it, quiet at first--she knows how he looks when he's figuring something out as he goes. For someone who spends as much time thinking as he does, occasionally he behaves as though it is a laborious, painful gear-grinding process, a concept which is actually inversely sort of flattering as applied to Hasi, who still makes him think about things he never has before.

He suspects this will still be the case in another three months, or ten, or a hundred. Even if in this case it isn't necessarily something he's sure he wanted to have to figure out; there's a reason he never looked for any of her movies, and this is markedly different, at least in some respects to what she was doing most recently. "If this is something you really want, then--you should do it, and not be worried about what I think, and I'm sincere about this; I know that--if you give up something you love for someone you love, it's hard not to resent them for it. But I don't know, that might just be me, and you're better than I am, or kinder."

Apparently he will brook no argument on that subject, at least. "If I'm going to be honest, though, and I think it's important that I am, it's the combination that's bothering me." She didn't ask, per se, what was, but she knows something is, and he knows she knows, so there it is. "A lot of what I remember--those two concepts are inseparable from you, and I have--to work sometimes to keep that somewhere I can manage it, so I don't--think I'd come. To see you. Which would probably bother me more than it would you, but...there."

[oleanderknife]

Hasi is silent for a while, processing this--she did have some correct suspicions, but there is more to it than she totally realized. She stops biting her lip in order to speak, choosing her words carefully, trying not to make this harder to hear than it has to be. "I will be truthful: there were times with Hyde when I was afraid of that, because...I don't know, sometimes I was actually more afraid of that than dying, honestly; it seemed more plausible, and it would have happened so casually, if it did. But I have those issues, and I have to find some way to deal with them, and some kind of theater catharsis would maybe help in that regard."

Hasi takes a deep breath, and her speech pace speeds up a little as she becomes more certain of how she wants to say what she needs to tell him. "But I don't need to take parts that would involve something like a graphic rape scene; there is a lot else I can do, and honestly, in 'Cleansed,' only one of the women deals with that at all. There are two roles there. And I can find another way of dealing with my own issues. If it does come up there's something I absolutely feel like I must do, we can talk about that then, but I don't really know if I'll love this, because it's an experiment; I do, however, know I could never love anything or anyone as much as I love you, so that takes precedence. I'd like to do this, but I don't want to put a rift between us, not ever."

She touches his face, gentle, thumb smoothing along Henry's jawline. "I figure--sex scenes, if those come up, those are more common, and that might be uncomfortable for us both at first, too, but that's stuff we can deal with...the important thing is telling each other the truth about how we feel and not building up grievances, so I'm glad you mentioned this right away before the choice is in our faces. We have months before this play, and forever together, if that's what you want--so no rush."

[beingtwofold]

Henry makes this aborted motion like he might turn away or close his eyes for some of that, but eventually he does neither; even if he could, or would allow himself to hide from the recent past, he can't get away from what he is now, and he owes it to Hasi to try to look in the mirror without flinching. (He feels, sometimes, like she is the mirror in which his best self is reflected anyway, especially when he needs the reminder he has a 'best self' left, or at least the possibility of one.)

There is nothing easier than wrapping his arms around her and finally then, when she's said what she needs to, letting his eyes flutter shut in the curve of her throat and shoulder. For a little while he's comfortably, heavily silent, but they can do that now, be quiet together without awkwardness. Eventually he lifts his head a bit, just enough to talk.

"I don't know if I ever say enough--if I ever could say enough to tell you how much it means that you can say that, that you love me after everything that's happened. I want forever with you like I want air, or light, or--I don't know, everything vital."

He is a little more capable of flights of poetic fancy now, which is an interesting side effect.

"If there's something you want, not just with this, but anything, then we can talk about that, but when you need anything, then...just tell me, and I'll handle it, I can do that."

A million 'I' statements there, which ...ideally manage not to be entirely self-centered.

[oleanderknife]

Her hands fold together at the back of his neck when he speaks, after that long, comfortable silence in which they simply and wordlessly acknowledge, once again, the wreckage with which they must contend: it is considerable, but they're strong people, she believes, and they'll be okay. In the meantime, what he says makes her smile glimmer brighter again, at once very fond and aware of the subtext. They don't have to spell out what she was afraid of with Hyde, when that aspect of Henry was separate from him and autonomous and uncontrolled, but being so explicit about how they feel for one another is definitely necessary. Or at least Hasi certainly feels that way.

"I know. And the same goes for you." She kisses him then, a little bit rougher than she initially intended to be. "You always take good care of me."

And it has been noted that while she is fully capable of not ever being taken care of, it's still a luxury, it's still this gift he gives her, and she will never stop valuing that. She has always been self-sufficient, and she is now, but those breaks are something everyone deserves, and he is the first person she has allowed to turn the tables on her that way. "And hopefully you will continue to be so patient with me throughout the insane holiday season."

Henry, you are dating someone who is something of a perfectionist. With everything. Enjoy that.

[beingtwofold]

Henry would frankly just as soon as keep kissing her as discuss the impending festivities of doom, but if they keep doing that it is pretty much only going to go one place. Inevitably they will get there eventually, and he is fine; he's a very patient man.

Or at least he used to be, now it's possible--likely, and occurs, in fact, that he kisses her some more (like, a lot more) post declaration of holiday madness.

"If I come home and Chevy Chase is stringing lights on our house, we're going to have to draw a line somewhere."

Nothing is serious about that, despite his intensely considered expression. He has, it has been discussed, had almost no experience with holidays related to hearth and home actually spent with a family as which he would identify himself as being part of, past the point where Albert was too sick to realize what was going on, and although he has been made welcome in the homes of others regarding these events, this is different, because it's them, and they do everything differently, which is why it works.

[oleanderknife]

"Well, now you've ruined what I had planned for Christmas, your very own late-80s early-90s comedian," Hasi huffs, which turns into a quick soft laugh (run through with tiny hairline fractures, because she loves him and is glad they managed to discuss this right away, and because of all the kissing, too), which turns into ducking her head underneath his jaw. This has the added benefit of giving her access to his pulse, where she presses her mouth and...then her teeth, with some ferocity. Part of the reason she enjoys doing this is it does have dominance implications of, as they have also previously discussed, bratting--it's taunting him.

"But," she says, leaning back with utmost innocence, "Maybe I can give you something else instead. You should state your requests now."

[beingtwofold]

"There actually is something I want to ask you," he murmurs, mysteriously, perhaps in playfully petty revenge for the barrage of throat-biting, an activity from which he summarily removes her, however temporarily, because being vertical is for other people. And surely they will continue to have rational, measured conversation while he leans her back on the bed, mouth traveling down her jawline to settle in that familiar hold, like they're mirrors of each other, a woman and a wolf. "But I'm saving it for later."

This imparted teasingly to the corner of her mouth before he bites her lip, brief but sharp--if this is intended as a rebuke of any kind Henry probably needs to read some more, because it is unlikely to deter anyone from anything. "I know how you are about being patient."

...troll.

[oleanderknife]

Hasibe makes a pleased, soft noise at the series of bites (by now these sounds she makes, feline and provocative, must be familiar, but they never seem to tire of them or this), hand curving over the back of his head to encourage teeth in skin, heat flaring in the pit of her stomach and filtering upward. This, too, is something she's pretty sure she can never get enough of, not in a million years.

"You should ask me now, I think, because I'm all curious and it'll make me very distracted. So. Please?" There is probably a sports metaphor for her illegal use of that word, but Hasi doesn't like baseball enough to come up with it off the top of her head, and either way she thinks she is perfectly justified.

[beingtwofold]

"Far be it from me to deny you anything," he doesn't 'say' so much as--sigh, or something a little more animal and sandpapered at the edges, "even when you cheat, brat," bratting he is definitely not discouraging by essentially giving her exactly what she wants, at least physically, mouth slipping by turns warm or sharp or both over her shoulders, tugging one camisole strap with his teeth. It's ridiculous but also instinctive, he is insistent although he knows enough to stop if she indicates as much, it is also true that he would basically always rather not.

"Trust me, though, it'll be better if I wait. I promise to distract you in other ways many, many times before then." He ...tells various portions of her skin.

[oleanderknife]

"Then I'll be patient," and it only takes her two tries to get out that full sentence, so clearly he should bite her harder (yes), and work on rendering her fully speechless--but that's probably imminent, in all sorts of ways. "But I'll wonder."

This house sometimes feels like a work in progress, the way they are--they customize and unpack, making it a place of their own, even as they map out the contours of their relationship and each other. Both of them are exceptionally dangerous people, but she has always been, has always tried to understand how she could fit into a world that is no longer really suitable for women like her, but with Henry she understands she doesn't need to cut that out of her so much as compartmentalize. His own personal monstrousness is in many ways new, but with each other, they can just be themselves, and so there is the flash of sharp teeth and blurring speed and the unbridled strength in his arms, and probably she will accidentally burn him with her fingertips a time or two before she has better mastery over her enhanced mental abilities, but these things are part of making the map, their own world, cartography designed in bitemarks and black ink and undying devotion.

"In the meantime--I missed you all day long today, so you should let me show you exactly how much by giving you exactly what you want. Hmm?"

[beingtwofold]

"Good," says Henry, with those sharp teeth all agleam, but blunted when necessary; it's not so much that he can do that now as he has to, he knows it's what has to be, and it's both easier with her than it is anywhere else and more complicated at the same time. But he's not thinking of that now, and if he looks a little sharper, a little more real in a dark room, then she's probably the only one who sees it. "I want you to wonder. And be patient."

Also god knows he'd probably exhibit a distinct lack of protest if she actually burned him, because all his senses are a little skewed. They'll straighten out with time, when he understands better how to cope with them, but now it's okay if the edges of the map get a little charred.

He does, actually, bite her on the shoulder hard enough to leave marks, the distinct outline of those teeth, which are as intrinsic an indicator of the physicality between them as the intensity of the way they talk to each other. "Right now I think I want to stop being patient, though."

[oleanderknife]

The way Henry does come into himself here--she loves it, she even loves it in a strange way when it flares up with other people (though usually it's...to their detriment, whereas here she is going to benefit), because he is in control and he is expressing that side of himself he hid for so long. Now he's more often like heated steel, demanding, sure of himself, sharp-edged but offering warmth even if her body temperature is several degrees above his--the fire between them is not just physical, although in her case that certainly applies. So: a lack of patience meeting on both sides, and frankly sometimes when he comes home from work Hasi doesn't even last that long before she crawls into his lap like a neglected housecat, so at least they got some conversation in beforehand this time.

And later, once she has probably incurred a few more of those enjoyable and bruising bitemarks, she is on her stomach, bare-bodied and serene, her hair tousled around her in a wave of black. She stays this way for a few moments, pacing her breathing, until something occurs to her, and Hasi lifts her head to stare at Henry with wide eyes, provided he's near enough. A disconcerting suspicion takes root, and she's pretty sure it's correct.

"...did I burn your shoulder, I am so sorry--"

She kind of knew today was an off day in terms of her own psychic control, but she didn't think it was that bad. Henry has a knack for dissolving all the lingering walls she's got, though, in many, many ways; Hasi enjoys it, but she doesn't want to hurt him.

[beingtwofold]

Henry never goes more than about a foot from her ...in any circumstance of his choosing; at these times it is his inclination to reel her into him as soon as his limbs start working, so he's close enough to touch and thereby be stared at, although it takes him a full twenty seconds to realize what she's talking about.

"Did you?" He's mild about it, faintly amused, like it is endearing somehow--and it is, actually, that ultimate loss of control; Hasi has an extraordinary amount of power in this relationship despite some of the particular ways they define it, if she's ever going to hurt him, it won't be scratches or bites or even burns--and then slightly more present because she actually did, the outline of finger marks and palm are clear on his skin. For being a reasonably average white guy of European descent he tans without much trouble, but this being November he's pale enough that the bright red stands out violently, although it's already faded more than it seems like it ought to be.

As such: "You are the most amazing woman." Which may seem somewhat bizarre in the moment, but he is not a man who has much reverence for anything, even being confronted with direct physical evidence of the divine didn't make him any less an atheist, but he does view all that she is with a kind of awe. He leans up on an elbow and touches the marks with a soft hiss; there is a tight bright ache there he doesn't mind at all, even if she obviously does.

"So you don't have to be sorry, I'm not." He grins at her, unrepentant, the spiked edges of his expression softening when he leans over to brush her temple with his lips. "You really did miss me, I like having the reminder."

[oleanderknife]

The mildness of his reaction, the distance from any distress, stops her in her tracks, and she tips her head to one side to eye Henry with some amusement of her own. He does seem...more than okay with it--pleased, even, though she will nevertheless endeavor to never do that to him again. (She will probably not be successful, though, not right away, and not with the frequency of their physical collisions.) Hasibe bites her lip a little and doesn't touch the marks themselves, though she does roll onto her back to touch the skin near them. They're not too bad, but she has her own suspicions about how quickly they've already seemed to fade.

"That's a step beyond scratches, isn't it, and you know I always miss you." She smiles, soft, and lightly tugs him even nearer in the bed. "That said, I think fireplay is a step beyond what we've discussed, and to do it accidentally...I'll be happier when I have more of a handle on what I can do. We've both changed, in our own ways."

Speaking of skintones, she watches their skin when it connects, the two shades (although, while she isn't a white woman, she can get pretty pale in dead winter herself, and just tans instantly as soon as she steps foot into sunlight in spring), the way their bodies fit together like they were built for one another. And then, apparently pleased with what she sees, Hasibe looks up at Henry again. "I was going to do Thanksgiving prep for Thursday and look at cars on Craigslist and now I am entirely too content right here. Your fault."

Spoken with absolutely no resentment whatsoever, and just simple (or not-so-simple, given the speaker and subject) affection; she is perfectly happy right here, thank you very much, and demonstrates as much by curling as close as she can get.