Prompt #235 Show us where you live
Based on RP canon. Summers_grey borrowed with permission.
Nathaniel comes home from work at half-past six. He's had to stay late to finish up some paperwork, which his secretary (administrative assistant, he can't ever remember the proper term) said she would Fed-Ex first thing in the morning. Nathaniel offered to teleport it to the destination, but that was against the rules, apparently. Fed-Ex would take more time, and be more complicated. Sometimes, his job made him want to smash things with bricks.
Savannah is already too hot; breathing the air is like inhaling through a sponge, thick and damp and sticky. Nathaniel drives home with the air conditioning on, because lately, he's started to notice the heat. Before, he would have been ambivalent. He's started to notice a lot of things, lately.
There is a strange car parked in his spot in front of his home. Nathaniel waves his hand and relocates it to an empty spot a few streets over. This is his parking spot, behind Rachel's Aztec. Their garage was turned into the lab and Isobel's old apartment, which she doesn't use anymore. She's moved into the house for good, now. Rachel's Aztec is badly parallel parked. Nathaniel fixes it, too. He parallel parks with precision, wheels turned away from the curb.
The house is cool inside. Isobel is in the kitchen, on the phone. Her laughter rings through the house, easy and free. Rachel is in the living room, which has dark mahogany furniture, the curtains drawn against the bright sun. Rachel is on the floor, her energy warm and bright like a beacon. She's lying on her stomach, playing with Lockheed.
"Hi!" she says brightly, looking up at him. "Did you have a nice day? I'm starving, will you make dinner? I taught Lockheed a trick but he hasn't done it in twenty minutes, I don't think he remembers things after that."
Nathaniel leans against the doorway. As he does every day, he does a brief mental scan of his home. He and Rachel's bedroom--the bed is made but rumpled, there is a shirt of his on his side of the bed. Rachel must have had a nap. Isobel's room is downstairs, neat and orderly, but her bed is unmade. There is no one else in the house. The lab is quiet and dark. Nathaniel turns his attention back to Rachel. She's been waiting for him to finish his little scan; he does this every day. Nathaniel undoes his tie, takes off his jacket. "I do not know if it was nice, precisely, but it was not as frustrating as other days have been."
Lockheed hops over upon hearing his voice. The rabbit likes him, for some mysterious reason. "I did experiments upon your kin," he tells it, his voice completely serious.
"Nathaniel," Rachel says, but she giggles. "Lockheed doesn't care that you experimented on his family."
Nathaniel walks over to where Rachel is still sprawled on the floor. Her shirt is too short, pulling up so he can see her back. He can see the deathmark, clean sharp lines cutting across her fair skin. The rabbit hops along, sniffing at something. Nathaniel doesn't touch her, but he smiles at her; his quiet, contained smile. "Like you."
"Oh, I care," Rachel says, standing up in one smooth gesture. She looks up at him, chin tilted. She looks very young, but there is something ancient in her eyes that is older than even him. "I just can't change it."
There is a moment where they stare at each other, and Nathaniel sees a flicker of something like dislike in her eyes. He's used to this, these moments where she remembers who she is, what he's done, all the rest of the things that make this so complicated. It's gone in a moment and she hugs him. her body warm and soft against his. "What's for dinner?"
"Steak," Nathaniel says, looking down at her. He doesn't blink. She doesn't look away. "Perhaps a salad."
"Mmm." Rachel leans up on her tiptoes, and he leans down, his arms around her waist. They don't kiss, they merely look at each other for a moment before pulling away. "That sounds good. M'starving."
People think Rachel forgets who he is, what he's done. Nathaniel knows that's not true. "I have a few things to do in the lab after dinner."
"Just leave me and Lockheed out of it," Rachel says, tempting the rabbit back into his cage with a yogurt chip.
"Certainly," Nathaniel says. "Nothing I am working on requires a rabbit. Or a Summers. I daresay you are safe."
"For the moment," Rachel says, grinning at him. Her smile is fierce and sharp.
Nathaniel winks at her, his expression unchanging, and goes upstairs. Rachel's laughter follows him into the hallway.
Nathaniel comes home from work at half-past six. He's had to stay late to finish up some paperwork, which his secretary (administrative assistant, he can't ever remember the proper term) said she would Fed-Ex first thing in the morning. Nathaniel offered to teleport it to the destination, but that was against the rules, apparently. Fed-Ex would take more time, and be more complicated. Sometimes, his job made him want to smash things with bricks.
Savannah is already too hot; breathing the air is like inhaling through a sponge, thick and damp and sticky. Nathaniel drives home with the air conditioning on, because lately, he's started to notice the heat. Before, he would have been ambivalent. He's started to notice a lot of things, lately.
There is a strange car parked in his spot in front of his home. Nathaniel waves his hand and relocates it to an empty spot a few streets over. This is his parking spot, behind Rachel's Aztec. Their garage was turned into the lab and Isobel's old apartment, which she doesn't use anymore. She's moved into the house for good, now. Rachel's Aztec is badly parallel parked. Nathaniel fixes it, too. He parallel parks with precision, wheels turned away from the curb.
The house is cool inside. Isobel is in the kitchen, on the phone. Her laughter rings through the house, easy and free. Rachel is in the living room, which has dark mahogany furniture, the curtains drawn against the bright sun. Rachel is on the floor, her energy warm and bright like a beacon. She's lying on her stomach, playing with Lockheed.
"Hi!" she says brightly, looking up at him. "Did you have a nice day? I'm starving, will you make dinner? I taught Lockheed a trick but he hasn't done it in twenty minutes, I don't think he remembers things after that."
Nathaniel leans against the doorway. As he does every day, he does a brief mental scan of his home. He and Rachel's bedroom--the bed is made but rumpled, there is a shirt of his on his side of the bed. Rachel must have had a nap. Isobel's room is downstairs, neat and orderly, but her bed is unmade. There is no one else in the house. The lab is quiet and dark. Nathaniel turns his attention back to Rachel. She's been waiting for him to finish his little scan; he does this every day. Nathaniel undoes his tie, takes off his jacket. "I do not know if it was nice, precisely, but it was not as frustrating as other days have been."
Lockheed hops over upon hearing his voice. The rabbit likes him, for some mysterious reason. "I did experiments upon your kin," he tells it, his voice completely serious.
"Nathaniel," Rachel says, but she giggles. "Lockheed doesn't care that you experimented on his family."
Nathaniel walks over to where Rachel is still sprawled on the floor. Her shirt is too short, pulling up so he can see her back. He can see the deathmark, clean sharp lines cutting across her fair skin. The rabbit hops along, sniffing at something. Nathaniel doesn't touch her, but he smiles at her; his quiet, contained smile. "Like you."
"Oh, I care," Rachel says, standing up in one smooth gesture. She looks up at him, chin tilted. She looks very young, but there is something ancient in her eyes that is older than even him. "I just can't change it."
There is a moment where they stare at each other, and Nathaniel sees a flicker of something like dislike in her eyes. He's used to this, these moments where she remembers who she is, what he's done, all the rest of the things that make this so complicated. It's gone in a moment and she hugs him. her body warm and soft against his. "What's for dinner?"
"Steak," Nathaniel says, looking down at her. He doesn't blink. She doesn't look away. "Perhaps a salad."
"Mmm." Rachel leans up on her tiptoes, and he leans down, his arms around her waist. They don't kiss, they merely look at each other for a moment before pulling away. "That sounds good. M'starving."
People think Rachel forgets who he is, what he's done. Nathaniel knows that's not true. "I have a few things to do in the lab after dinner."
"Just leave me and Lockheed out of it," Rachel says, tempting the rabbit back into his cage with a yogurt chip.
"Certainly," Nathaniel says. "Nothing I am working on requires a rabbit. Or a Summers. I daresay you are safe."
"For the moment," Rachel says, grinning at him. Her smile is fierce and sharp.
Nathaniel winks at her, his expression unchanging, and goes upstairs. Rachel's laughter follows him into the hallway.