I have a nameplate on my desk at work now. Or a placard if you want to say it fancy. Thank you loads, Claire, I don't know how anyone would ever know my name if it wasn't for your tasteful and caring gift
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He's surprised when her expression changes somehow, suddenly, but when she tells him not to move, he listens obediently and resists the urge to pull away. He feels the hot stickiness almost immediately, and knows exactly what it is from years of experience.
The feeling that follows is an echo of what he'd felt over a year ago now, like listening to the sea by way of the sounds of holding a seashell to your ear. But he's grateful for it; the small memory of a similar feeling is better than feeling suddenly abandoned by what had encompassed his existence before.
The blood dissipates, used up, and like a rubber band the shock smashes into her nose. But Eden is used to that, and she rubs the blood that oozes out of her nose away.
"Yeh're welcome," she tells him, settling her body against his. It makes her tired, a little, giving memory like that. Physically drained.
His eyes narrow for only a second as Eden finds a spot under his arm, his own palm still pressed gently to where it was, almost as if he's afraid to move it. There's a familiar feeling ghosting through him, the way Rahne's small body would fit under his arm if she were helping him walk off the battlegrounds. He wishes the physical similarities were less there, suddenly.
But he relaxes eventually and keeps his hand pressed where it is, feeling for her heartbeat.
"That was a special thing you did. It was magic, wasn't it?"
Eden doesn't mind the touch. People are surprised when they find Eden as physically receptive as she is. It's not the abuse, or the cuts, that Eden remembers when it comes to touch, but warmth. Belfast is a cold place. There are deep places in Eden's soul where the fear of knives hides, but no one has ever seen that part of her.
She nods, still curled against him.
"Blood has memory," she explains. "I just made yehrs see what mine remembers. Magic's not good for much," she warns, "But sometimes yeh find something that's worth it's price."
He's always been a very physical person, and affection beyond that. It's easy enough for him to get sleepy and comfortable on the couch with Eden. Having people around feels a little like coming home. He tries not to go to sleep there, though, because his toes will get cold eventually.
He listens to her words carefully. When he was a boy, he used to read all of the fantasy books he could, and wish himself into any situation but his own.
"So everyone's blood has memory? Not just yours? Can you feel it always, or do you have to have a connection like that?"
"Everyone's blood. It remembers more than yeh do, yeh know; it remembers yeh're parents and theirs, all the way up yeh're bloodline, the things they felt or what they died from, shite like that."
Eden sighs a little; not because she's frustrated, but because it's always easy to forget that people don't feel the things she does. It seems odd, to her. "I feel blood. It's...like a hum, in me head. If someone is sick in their blood, I can feel it. Or if someone is different, in their blood? I feel that too."
She looks up at him for a moment. "And the magic, it's in me blood, and I can do shite to other people blood...most of it is pretty fucked up shite. Boil blood, or make someone bleed out, or freeze it, or change it...and there's worse, too. Me magic doesn' do a lot of good, yeh know."
Taking in what she says, he lifts his head to stare at her, and then the clock. Maybe he should move them, or at least get a load of blankets and build a couch nest.
"It was like that for me before. I could feel ants marching. Or if the ground was under too much stress. I guess it's different, blood is actually alive and part of people. But maybe the planet is its own organism."
He doesn't know.
"I knew someone like that once. Her magic took her over once, turned her into a terrible thing, not evil but not..." He cuts himself off. "We haven't spoken in years. Not 'cause of that. 'Cause she's a pretentious bitch who tried to tell me about myself."
Eden takes the initiative and pulls him to his feet, and before she says another word she makes sure that they are arranged on his bed in similar position. It might be a little bit intimate, but it's more for warmth, and comfort, and there isn't much that's very sexual about it.
Once she's settled, she explains. "Magic makes yeh a shite. When yeh hear people's blood and yeh know the secrets their bodies hide from them, yeh start thinkin' that yeh can tell people crap. It's just a load." She pauses, again. "Every generation, someone in me fam dies in magic. The blood swallows them."
It's been a few months since he's been like this-- save the times he's uncomfortably woken up next to a particular one of Jamie's dupes --and he takes a few deep breaths before relaxing and closing his eyes to hook one leg over hers to make sure her toes aren't cold by morning.
It's late even for him.
"I think power makes you a--" he pauses at the word. He can't really get it out that way in his accent. "-- dick. I've seen it happen to a lot of people. I'm just sorry that has to happen in your family. It's crap."
Her toes will be good and toasty by morning. She wonders, briefly, if John would be jealous, and finds that even if he is, this will have been well worth it. She yawns. She's tired.
"One day," it's punctuated by another yawn, "I'll tell yeh the whole story."
She curls up closer to him, and closes her eyes. "I'mma sleep."
"I like stories," Julio says, in a half-asleep voice, before making sure that his chin is resting softly on the top of her head. Maybe he's pushing his luck, in a weird way, because he has no intentions toward her beside a need to feel close to someone. He still hopes he isn't pushing her boundaries.
But she's not complaining, so he lets himself sleep.
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The feeling that follows is an echo of what he'd felt over a year ago now, like listening to the sea by way of the sounds of holding a seashell to your ear. But he's grateful for it; the small memory of a similar feeling is better than feeling suddenly abandoned by what had encompassed his existence before.
"Yeah. Ayudará mucho el regalo."
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"Yeh're welcome," she tells him, settling her body against his. It makes her tired, a little, giving memory like that. Physically drained.
Reply
But he relaxes eventually and keeps his hand pressed where it is, feeling for her heartbeat.
"That was a special thing you did. It was magic, wasn't it?"
Reply
She nods, still curled against him.
"Blood has memory," she explains. "I just made yehrs see what mine remembers. Magic's not good for much," she warns, "But sometimes yeh find something that's worth it's price."
Reply
He listens to her words carefully. When he was a boy, he used to read all of the fantasy books he could, and wish himself into any situation but his own.
"So everyone's blood has memory? Not just yours? Can you feel it always, or do you have to have a connection like that?"
Reply
Eden sighs a little; not because she's frustrated, but because it's always easy to forget that people don't feel the things she does. It seems odd, to her. "I feel blood. It's...like a hum, in me head. If someone is sick in their blood, I can feel it. Or if someone is different, in their blood? I feel that too."
She looks up at him for a moment. "And the magic, it's in me blood, and I can do shite to other people blood...most of it is pretty fucked up shite. Boil blood, or make someone bleed out, or freeze it, or change it...and there's worse, too. Me magic doesn' do a lot of good, yeh know."
Reply
"It was like that for me before. I could feel ants marching. Or if the ground was under too much stress. I guess it's different, blood is actually alive and part of people. But maybe the planet is its own organism."
He doesn't know.
"I knew someone like that once. Her magic took her over once, turned her into a terrible thing, not evil but not..." He cuts himself off. "We haven't spoken in years. Not 'cause of that. 'Cause she's a pretentious bitch who tried to tell me about myself."
Reply
Once she's settled, she explains. "Magic makes yeh a shite. When yeh hear people's blood and yeh know the secrets their bodies hide from them, yeh start thinkin' that yeh can tell people crap. It's just a load." She pauses, again. "Every generation, someone in me fam dies in magic. The blood swallows them."
Reply
It's late even for him.
"I think power makes you a--" he pauses at the word. He can't really get it out that way in his accent. "-- dick. I've seen it happen to a lot of people. I'm just sorry that has to happen in your family. It's crap."
Reply
"One day," it's punctuated by another yawn, "I'll tell yeh the whole story."
She curls up closer to him, and closes her eyes. "I'mma sleep."
It's the most unguarded that Eden can get.
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But she's not complaining, so he lets himself sleep.
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