(no subject)
Whistle while you work. Today is her day of early classes. Only two of them and they're both already over with. So why not get some work done at home? Dressed in overalls and a pink tank top, with the matching bandana around her hair, Nevaeh whistles her way back into the apartment. Snug between hip and arm is a laundry basket. Seems she's just getting back from the downstairs laundry mat. All of the clothes are neat and tidy, remaining that way as she moves to the bedroom to put them away.
Lunch breaks are always fun for someone not exactly in love with sitting at a desk all day. The ex-bohemian looks tired as he bypasses the keys and goes straight for the doorknob, mentally commanding it to unlock itself. It clicks almost on contact, a sure sign that Mark is getting better with his powers. He pushes the door open and shuffles in, closing it behind him. Since Nevaeh is in the bedroom, Mark figures she is still at school and loosens his tie, taking a deep breath of air before wandering into the kitchen and grabbing a box of stale crackers. Mm, a lunch of champions. He's much to lazy to even touch all the things for a lunch so they can make themselves. The boy makes his way back into the living room, flopping down on the couch with a thump. He fishes a hand into the box, grabbing a few crackers and munching down.
The whistling stops. Noise. Mark is supposed to be at work, Roger and Mimi are both in here sleeping, which means that there is someone in the living room. Not a good thing for one as paranoid as Nevaeh. Quietly she slinks towards a cloth holder by her side of the bed and unzips it quickly. Bow and arrow held tight in her hands, the girl inches towards the door, black eyes peering out from the shadow she's hidden in. "Mark?" Surprise and relief lift Nevaeh's tone as she tries to push her heart back into her chest, stepping from behind the door.
Mark shoves another few crackers into his mouth, his flat-lined eyebrows resting over a furrowed brow. Working doesn't usually put the boy in a good mood. He doesn't notice anything until his name is called. Mark jerks slightly, the box falling from his hand, bouncing off the edge of the couch and spilling onto the couch. His eyes dart over to Nev who is... holding a bow and arrow. "Yes! It me! Do not shoot. Is Mark!" The boy cries out, looking startled, even his English breaking in his shock. His hands snap over his head, locking together in attempts to protect his noggin as he cowers.
Nevaeh watches as he begins to cower and remembers the bow in her hands, glancing down as she hears the strain of the wood against the tightening of her fist. "Oh! Oh no, I'd never shoot you." She hurried to assure as both bow and arrow are dropped onto the bed and she rushes from the room. "I'm sorry. I though you were a burglar." Or someone coming to finish the job.
Mark takes a few panicked gulps of air, never having been the bravest of boys. His eyes crack open and slowly he pries his fingers from his head, trying his best to relax. "O-oh. No. Not a burglar. Just your Mark." He says in a quavering voice. "Would not shoot me. I know." His eyes turn to the doorway into their bedroom, trying to catch a glimpse of the bow and arrow. "Why...? Would a gun not be better?" Mark asks, sending her a look. He suddenly remembers his lunch and looks down, the crackers scattered around his feet. The boy bends over, staring to pick them up, looking slightly less frazzled.
Her poor, nervous Marky. "Good. I would have hated to actually shoot someone." It'd get blood all over the carpet, and it's already had to be replaced once because of that very reason. "If you ever saw me shoot a bow and arrow and compare it to how I shot a gun, you would not ask that question." Nevaeh explains with a smile and hurries to kneel at his feet, beginning to scoop up the crackers. "I'm much better with a bow and arrow. Always have been. Now. You sit back. I'll make you a real lunch."
Mark shovels the lint-filled crackers back into the box with shaking hands. He pulls for for a moment as she starts to help. "Yes, well... I would not much like you shooting me. I will have to be more careful coming in." He says to himself, leaning his head down and gently nudging her head with his all. The boy defiantly needs some reassurance that Nev isn't going to get spooked in the middle of the night and kill him. "Ah, really, you do not have to. I am fine." He assures her, tugging on the box. "Do not worry about me. I eat fine."
"I promise that I will never ever shoot you." Nevaeh assures and pulls the box away from him, leaning in against his nuzzling with a happy sigh. "You should not have to be more careful. I'll simply call out your name and see if it's you. All right?" A smile as she kisses him softly, little more than a peck as she stands. "Nonsense. I will worry about you. And I'm going to make you lunch. So nyah." She sticks out her tongue and turns towards the kitchen.
Mark lifts up his chin, letting her nuzzle fully. "I know! I was just startled. Zat is all." He says sheepishly, his cheeks flushing red. These are really times he should be strong and brave, yet the poor boy is still overly-cautious. "Yes... all right. But be careful, no?" He adds in a mumble, looking up at her as she stands. "Really... just a sandwich will do. Do not go out of your way..." Mark insists, knowing he's not going to get out of a lunch.
Nevaeh watches as he flushes red and laughs, pausing to kiss him one more time, just for being so damn cute. She doesn't need him to be strong and brave. He's perfect just the way he is. "I will be. Trust me." She was today after all, that won't change. "Tsk. You'll get a sandwich! And I'll cut you up an apple as well, maybe put some peanut butter on them if you like? And a treat for later. I made fudge so I'll stick some in a tin for you to take with you."
Mark turns and twists his torso in order to peer over the top of the couch. He's not perfect, not in his own eyes. If he was, then Nev wouldn't have gotten hurt in the first place, and he'd have a wonderful little baby on the way. "I do trust you!" He protests, finally turning his lower body to line up with his top. He crosses his arms and leans up on them. "You baby zis boy!" Though he looks completely thrilled at the yummy sounding lunch. "Really. You could give me two slices or plain bread, and I would be very happy!"
He is perfect because even after she was hurt, and even after she lost his baby, he still wanted her. Still wanted to make a life with her. And that's more than Nevaeh could have ever asked for. "Good!" She states as sounds of her working to make food can be heard. "Do you want cold cuts or would you prefer some shredded turkey with a gravy sauce for your sandwich?" She asks, head peeking out from between the kitchen door and the wall. "And you will eat no such thing as long as I am around."
Why wouldn't he? If the subject was ever brought up, the fact someone might leave Nev over it would completely boggle the poor boy. "Erm... gravy is always good. We have some?" He leans up as the couch starts to crawl towards the kitchen. "I can walk myself, zank you very much!" He snaps lightly to the couch and hops up, wandering over to her and attempting to catch her from behind in his arms. "Oh, you do not know ze ways of ze bachelor."
"We do have some. I bought groceries on my way home. Southern girls can't go without gravy in the house." Nevaeh states as she settles the shredded turkey on some bread. A giggle as his arms wrap around her, cheek nuzzling back against his and her body leans back as she continues to use her hands to build the sandwich. "Ah, but you are no longer a bachelor my love. Now you have a fiancé to make sure you eat right and healthy."
Mark bends offer and slaps his hands to the poked area of his stomach. "Oof!" He grunts, pretending to be hurt. "No no. Not ze cute kind." The boy pats himself and stands up straight again, giving her look. His voice suddenly grows nasally and he sounds very American. "Of course that is what you mean! Us Americans do not diet, the very thought!" Mark exclaims, throwing his hands in the air. The mention of being a father sparks something behind his eyes. "Me? A father? No no. I will be right zere on the floor playing with zem! I will just be one of ze kids!" The boy darts around her and grabs the plate with a hasty kiss to the lips. "Zank you, Ms. Griffin."
Nevaeh giggles, her eyes twinkling with delight. "Oh yes, the cute kind! Very dangerous but atleast they're fun to look at." The mockery of the American accent earns another quite giggle as she leans forward to reach for the peanut butter and the apple slicer. More laughter. "Is that so? Well that's a shame then. Since it's the daddy who goes with the mommy to bed at night. And mommy would hate to have to sleep alone." A pout, which is wiped away at the kiss. "You're quite welcome Mr. Tompkins."
Mark snarls his teeth, as if to prove that, yes, he is very dangerous. "Look at?" He inquires, glancing down at himself. "Well, I guess you are right." The boy agrees with a happy look. "But not so much fun to be looking at, as ze raccoons!" He holds the plate in one hand, batting at her with the free one. The mention of him not being able to go to bed with her causes a look of alarm. "What? Oh! I was just... kidding, no? I am ze daddy. Yes, of course!"
Nevaeh shivers and pretends to be frightened for a moment. "Oooh, ferocious." She assures with a swooning motion. The motion continues until she 'falls' against the other counter, where it just so happens the apples are. She rights herself and pulls out an apple, heading back to the other counter. "Oh yes, raccoons are pretty to look at to. But not so much as the hippo." A grin at his reaction. "Good. How about this? When it comes to play time, you can be one of the kids, every time else you can be daddy?" That's a pretty good deal!
Mark rolls his eyes playfully, his hand finally going for the sandwich. He rushes through it, realizing that it's not long before he needs to get back to work. The boy chows through the food, watching her. "Do not flatter me." He says after gulping down a bite. "Zat sounds good. But you would be outnumbered, yes? Ah, it would not be fair for you. I sahll be ze daddy... of course. Always." He sets the empty plate down, brushing his hands together.
Nevaeh laughs at the playful roll of his eyes, taking the speed that he eats as a sign she should hurry up. The apple is cut and lined up in pieces, peanut butter spread over them easily enough. They're slipped into a plastic container, the fudge placed on top of it in a plastic bag. "Well.. sometimes I'm just going to want to be one of the kids as well. So we'll take turns." She says and holds out the containers to him with a big smile.
Mark licks messily at his fingers. She'll have some training to do if she wants to shape him up into a good husband. He leans forward, carefully taking the container with a hungry look. "Zese will not last long, I assure you!" He says and tightens his tie, going to grab his keys right after giving her another kiss. "Zank you again for ze lunch, It was wonderful! And yes, turns sound very nice." Mark move to the door, giving her one last parting look of fondness. "See you tonight, zen!" And with that he exits, hustling back to work.