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

[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.

[beingtwofold]

Henry laughs, quiet, and loops both arms over her to lock them loose at the small of her back, where his hands will ...probably wander, the finer points of which are equally probably obvious.

"I'm not suggesting you make a habit of it, but I'm all right. They'll fade, and--fast," faster than he would actually like, this suggests implicitly, and possibly this makes him kind of insane (but that may be up for debate, regardless); he heals small bumps and bruises within the hour, now, and while that's useful, they are awfully fond of leaving marks of an exciting variety all over each other, so he can be justified in being mildly wistful that these things don't stay. A small, bizarre consequence among many larger ones. "Meanwhile, I'm going to consider it a compliment, and you can't make me change my mind."

Like she's trying. Also, "On the subject of firmly cemented opinion, I'm glad you're content, because I have no intention of letting you go anywhere for...a while."

He's kidding, but only just. He won't even check his email, he is that dedicated to this peaceful entanglement.

[oleanderknife]

"Oh, it is something of a compliment, considering I haven't lost control like that since I was a teenager. At least it doesn't happen when I go under, though, that'd be a mess." She nudges him gently, reaching back with one hand to push her hair away from her neck and shoulders--she's worn it this long for ages, so it doesn't really bother her, per se, but it does require adjustment often. When it's down like this, people tend to stare, but she usually keeps it back, anyway, even though Henry has never asked her to (Hyde's demands aside); it's something she likes keeping for just the two of them, as noted elsewhere.

"You are more than welcome to pin me down if I even consider getting up within the next half hour," Hasi says, sunnily, so...there is that. Their relationship is an odd one, full of permissions-to-take-control, but those are the rules that keep certain acts of lawlessness between them safe. "Then at some point I will make dinner. But I still won't put real pants on."

Apparently doing things around the house in underwear and one of his t-shirts is how she prefers to spend her time when they're alone and not immediately entwined, like right now. Not having very close neighbors is awesome in this respect.

[beingtwofold]

This is exactly why Henry has taken the careful precaution of spending the last twenty years or so collecting an enormous number of t-shirts in various stages of entropy--all right, it really isn't, but it does certainly seem to be coming in extraordinarily useful, as there are very few little everyday things he likes as much as Hasibe in his clothing, even if he complains venomlessly about it all the time.

Because they're trolls. And this is not behavior to which he is intrinsically inclined, so only a handful of people can bring that out of him, her most of all. Which is an excellent litmus test for most of his life, actually.

"That's so accommodating of you," he deadpans, nuzzling her hair, owing to its general existence and how he actually has noticed it's up most of the time otherwise, but they haven't discussed it because--he knows why, and it's not necessary to always be pulling apart what Hyde's motivation for things was. And speaking of odd (or obvious) permissions, "Can I just pin you because I want to? I promise not to exacerbate my injury."

Yes. His 'injury.'

[oleanderknife]

"Whenever you like," she tells him, fondly, "you don't have to ask."

So there is that. They read each other well enough that she feels comfortable giving him that permission broadly, and furthermore they have a safeword on which they can rely; he knows her. Hasibe digs her fingertips into his hipbone, casually, hand reaching low, smile skewing playful and more than a little bit challenging. She is sort of tired out, now, but it's the muscular tiredness that comes from exertion, not real exhaustion, and it is abating. Consequently: more trolling her boyfriend, apparently.

"Besides, I have to make sure you're in a very good mood for our guests on Thursday. Being your most social self."

She should like, tell him who all is going to be attending this small shindig, but the guest list is somewhat malleable, at present. It's basically 'whoever she can coerce into coming'.

[beingtwofold]

Their safeword is 'yeti,' and this is being noted here for no other reason than the fact that it is great, and should be frequently repeated. Out of context, odds are they haven't used it as such yet.

Meanwhile, Henry mock-groans in a state of mostly facetious agony, rolling away from her to drape an arm over his face, once she is ...done with her physical trolling, although presumably it will resume momentarily. "You know even my most social self would rather hide at the back of a closet than help host a party," which is what this is, "but for you, and because it's at our house, I will be on my best behavior, only retreating to closets when absolutely necessary."

Although usefully he won't get as overwhelmed as he might have until recently, but even Hyde didn't really like crowds--the issue there, however, was that he was so scornful of most people, and Henry genuinely enjoys the ones they'll be having, at least the ones he knows. Emily throws him a little, but he will manage.

More in the moment: having been given blanket permission and apparently feeling the need to be rewarded in some way for like, agreeing to be around other people (not really), he does flip back over, what would be too quickly if she wasn't probably used to it by now, pressing her down into the bed with the weight of his hips and hands on her wrists. "And you say that now, but--are you sure? What if you're on the phone, is it all right then? What if you're studying?"

Which he ...assumes she will be, lines, or schoolwork or whatever; he has faith in her.

[oleanderknife]

Hasi did, to a degree, see that coming, so when Henry pins her down she smiles up at him, pleased with herself--but she struggles just a little like she's testing his grip, not too much, but like the weight of him pleases her, too. She tips her chin back, throat exposed, eyes flashing fire and promise--and she just says, "I'm sure."

This apparently warrants further elaboration, but it takes a few moments, because she likes simply looking him in the eye and watching his expression. The tiny nuances between them are fascinating to her regardless, but when they are situated this way she tends to pay especially close attention. "It's all right then. But you will have to endure my informing my caller, possibly via shouting, that my boyfriend has decided he'd prefer me on my back or stomach underneath him, and I'll call back later. So choose wisely, but I leave the choice up to you."

So serene, this declaration.

[beingtwofold]

Henry is, in positioning like this, most obviously not what he once was: most changes are internal, and she can doubtless see those too (the way he carries himself, the way he smiles, everything in varying shades of a little--and sometimes more so--twisted), but some are physical: his eyes are darker, and although this is perhaps less obvious when they're ....this degree of horizontal, it's been noted that he's taller, but not broader, lean and spared down for efficiency of movement, like wire strung out of steel.

When she struggles he lets her, although he doesn't ease up out of the watchfulness always in him, dual gauging himself as much as her. That wasn't so much there before either, but he can never really let his guard all the way down, especially not with her. That might be a regret, but it's necessary right now, and maybe always. Still, even if he couldn't tell before how she was feeling (and he can, it's not exactly a Rubik's cube of complexity here), she is playful enough verbally that he can laugh, into her throat, and ...then bite it some, since it's there.

"I'll save my inclination to have you underneath me for your most important calls, then." This is such a lie. "Otherwise it'll become routine, and you'll be bored with me in no time."

...fffft.

[oleanderknife]

Sometimes she does wish he could more thoroughly express that with her--that she weren't so breakable--but at the same time she thinks he loves the ways she is fragile, the ways she folds and sighs and becomes glass in his hands, and furthermore the reason he has to watch himself would exist if there weren't such a significant discrepancy in physical strength. But she wishes she could help him let go even more, all the same. That said, she knows that if that does happen more often, now is probably too soon, since they're still getting their bearings, so Hasibe just grins up at the ceiling when Henry presses his teeth to her throat.

"Never," she says, with visceral certainty, "I wasn't kidding when I said 'forever,' you know."

It occurs to her that is something of a huge step, saying that, although she only thinks of it in terms of emotional commitment. "I realize that is crazy soon to say, but--we do everything by our own terms, anyway. And if you interrupt any phone conversations of mine, I will laugh really hard if it's when my dad calls me for Cejna Qurbane."

[beingtwofold]

Henry mostly loves that she trusts him enough to be fragile in these circumstances, which is not the same as weakness--that's inherent, and she isn't--fragility is more of a choice, especially when it's partially a state of mind she has had very little opportunity to allow herself. Meanwhile he has considered 'forever' in slightly more pragmatic terms, owing to how that both comes easily to him in regards to her as well as the existent fact that they've made some pretty significant investments together; there's a reason he didn't give more thought toward renting a place, because when people say they'd die for each other they don't usually have to mean literally, and after that, just staying alive together is equally better and much more complicated.

But, as she notes, they do all right with complicated on their own terms. "I know you weren't, I was teasing. I'm sorry." And she knew the former; he expresses as much anyway because he does take the concept seriously. "I wasn't making the comparison to oxygen in jest either, for the record, except that breathing is something most people take for granted since they don't have to think about it, or be grateful they have the ability, and I am grateful--all the time, which you can tell because I say things like this."

And manages to only feel mildly like a poet in love, or something equally silly. "Do you want me to meet your dad, on an utterly disparate subject?"

The subject of his own paternal figure can ...come in a minute here, as it sort of always does, loomingly.

[oleanderknife]

"I didn't take it too hard, I just--I don't know," she laughs a little, at herself, "I take any opportunity to remind you how much I love you, because I can."

That disparate subject strikes her, and she takes a second to articulate how she feels about it, though her answer does occur to her immediately. This seems like a necessary part of being together, of having their relationship--and furthermore a part of her kind of...wants to show Henry off, like look, I got a good person to fall in love with me to her dad. Because there are some issues there, as Henry may surmise by her answer: "Yes, definitely. I haven't actually seen him face-to-face since I was a teenager, but...uh, did you know I have step-siblings? The boys probably don't even remember me. I'd like you to meet him, though, and my stepmother, I'm just...trying to express how it's complicated. And failing, I think."

[beingtwofold]

"You've mentioned, but we don't talk much about either family." It's not an accusation, just fact: there are certain points where just because they can talk about sore subjects doesn't mean that they necessarily should, or that it's always beneficial. Sometimes poking at scars is cathartic, sometimes it's not.

In this case though, it does have that element of necessity to it. "On which subject I'll go see my dad Thursday before everyone gets here, and at some point soon I'd like it if you went with me, but maybe at a time when you aren't cooking for the entire city."

She isn't, but the point stands! He uh, gets off of her and whatnot, so they can discuss these things like rational adults and not teenagers who are jumping one another at any possible point. Not that these things are necessarily so separate, with these two. "And I hope it's clear that's not a reflection on what I think you can handle, it's just--I find it stressful and depressing, and I'm used to that environment."

And he does have to make these visits with a somewhat different attitude now; sorry, dad, I thought I could save you, but I can't. He does not actually mention this, it's implicit and they're talking about her.