[Drabble] Morning, Sunshine | Branded
Title: Morning, Sunshine (Explosive verse)
Characters: Avian Almásy, Karine Misira. Av/Ka.
Universe: Alternate. Modern times. Part of a story based on "Like Toy Soldiers" that I really really want to write now (story which I've started to call "Explosive" in my mind.)
Rating: T
"Fuck him, Chuck," he says into the phone and turns off the TV when he sees Karine coming from the bedroom out of the corner of his eye. "Fuck him and let him have it."
"What's wrong?" she asks, leaving the towel with which she was drying her hair on a chair once he hungs up. He forces a smile, tugging at the neck of his own shirt that she's wearing to pull her towards him. She lets him hold her and he breathes into her hair that smells like he does (and wonders why it makes him so...)
"Nothing," he lies, breaking his train of thoughts. "Are you gonna get up and leave already?"
She makes a face and moves out of his arms, displeased. He doesn't insists and goes through the fridge trying to find something to eat as she serves herself some juice he didn't even knew he had. He eats an apple, watching her avoiding eye-contact, still pouting to get him to give an honest answer.
"You're not going to eat anything else?" she asks when he makes to leave the kitchen.
"Later," he says, throwing the rest of the apple in the bin. "I'm gonna shower, I'm meeting Greal in a while."
"Pass me some eggs," she mutters. "I'll make you some breakfast in the meantime."
He tries to hide his grin as he takes eggs from the fridge and sets them on the table and then tries not to chuckle when he kisses her temple and she huffes and states that this is the first and only time she'll play housewife for him (but her lips turn upwards despite her efforts.)
Title: Branded (Explosive verse)
Characters: Avian Almásy, Karine Misira. Av/Ka.
Universe: Alternate. Modern times. Part of the "Explosive" story, which is based on "Like Toy Soldiers" and I haven't even wrote yet.
Rating: PG
She gets out of the car without even minding the driver (her father's, which probably explained why she was so pissed off to start with) and doesn't bother with answering when he asks how long she's going to take and if she'd like for him to wait up.
He's easy to find (plus, Chuck points in his direction as soon as she enters the garage.)
"What is it, Karine?" he asks from under the car as soon as she gets nearby.
"How do you know it was me? I hadn't even said a word yet."
"Your high heels don't really help with going unnoticed. Besides, Chuck knows better than to send someone in when I'm busy."
"So I get special treatment?"
"Maybe," he says. "Hold on a sec."
She hears him work for a while, crossing her arms under her chest to stop herself from pacing, not trying to start a conversation.
"Could you get me that, Freckles?"
"What?"
"On the floor, no, not that one, on your right, yeah, that one."
"It's greasy."
"You'll wash your hands, princess."
She doesn't need to look at his face to know he's smirking, calling her that as if he didn't knew she hated it. Clenching her jaw, she takes the wrench and bends to give it to him. She ignores his thanks and straightens up, crossing her arms once again because otherwise she'd start pacing - couldn't have that, no, she was quiting it (it tended to scare away people for some unknown reason, father used to say it was unladylike, she frowned too much while pacing.)
Some minutes later, he slides out from under the car and she lets out a breath, relieved.
"Hey," he says with a half-smile while cleaning some of the grease of his hands with a piece of cloth, giving her a look over. "You look nice. What's the occasion?"
"Are you saying I can't dress up just..." she pauses and shrugs, doesn't really feel like arguing and takes off her sunglasses. "I had a meeting with Dad."
He makes a noncommittal sound and nods to the inside of the building, walking her to his office. She follows in silence, waving to the workers she's met before but whose names she no longer remembers.
"Bathroom," he says and points to a door by the left. When she turns on the faucet, she hears him behind her. "Now, tell me. What's wrong?"
"What makes you think something's wrong?" she says, watching his reflection in the mirror. He stares back, blue eyes framed by a frown.
"You'd never come to my work before. And you saw your dad. I know something's wrong."
"You know, we've only been together, for... what, four months? I don't think you're allowed to know me this well so soon," she raises an eyebrow, meeting his gaze in the mirror and then she sighs. "I don't know. We don't really get along."
"Nm," he crosses his arms as she turns to face him, drying her hands with a towel. She smiles, seeing him leaning against the doorframe, his shirt covered in grease and stains on his chin and right cheek.
"Anyway, I just came to see if you'd like to have lunch with me."
He looks back at the clock sitting in his desk before turning back to her.
"I can't. I should've had that car ready by now."
She shrugs and checks her reflection, adds some gloss on her lips and considers herself decent once again.
"It was worth the shot," she says and walks back into his office. "Come pick me up later?"
"Sure. Where...?"
"Stop by the restaurant, we can grab some dinner before leaving," she smiles and plays with her sunglasses. "I'll see you then."
He smiles back at her, a hand stoping her from leaving when she goes to leave.
"That's all?"
"What?"
"Not even a..."
"I'm not touching you," she interrupts him, disliking the way he seems to stand straight and she has to look up to him and that smirk of his. "You're greasy."
"That's lame."
"Do you even know how much this shirt cost me? I spent half my..." she gets cut off by a kiss and barely manages to grabs his wrists. "Hands off, I don't care how nice and manly you might look right now all dirty, no touching unless you're clean or buying me another shirt."
"I'll get you another one, woman."
"I don't want you to, I happen to like this one just fine, thank you very much, so, no - "
He still manages to get his handprint over her hip underneath her shirt.
Characters: Avian Almásy, Karine Misira. Av/Ka.
Universe: Alternate. Modern times. Part of a story based on "Like Toy Soldiers" that I really really want to write now (story which I've started to call "Explosive" in my mind.)
Rating: T
"Fuck him, Chuck," he says into the phone and turns off the TV when he sees Karine coming from the bedroom out of the corner of his eye. "Fuck him and let him have it."
"What's wrong?" she asks, leaving the towel with which she was drying her hair on a chair once he hungs up. He forces a smile, tugging at the neck of his own shirt that she's wearing to pull her towards him. She lets him hold her and he breathes into her hair that smells like he does (and wonders why it makes him so...)
"Nothing," he lies, breaking his train of thoughts. "Are you gonna get up and leave already?"
She makes a face and moves out of his arms, displeased. He doesn't insists and goes through the fridge trying to find something to eat as she serves herself some juice he didn't even knew he had. He eats an apple, watching her avoiding eye-contact, still pouting to get him to give an honest answer.
"You're not going to eat anything else?" she asks when he makes to leave the kitchen.
"Later," he says, throwing the rest of the apple in the bin. "I'm gonna shower, I'm meeting Greal in a while."
"Pass me some eggs," she mutters. "I'll make you some breakfast in the meantime."
He tries to hide his grin as he takes eggs from the fridge and sets them on the table and then tries not to chuckle when he kisses her temple and she huffes and states that this is the first and only time she'll play housewife for him (but her lips turn upwards despite her efforts.)
Title: Branded (Explosive verse)
Characters: Avian Almásy, Karine Misira. Av/Ka.
Universe: Alternate. Modern times. Part of the "Explosive" story, which is based on "Like Toy Soldiers" and I haven't even wrote yet.
Rating: PG
She gets out of the car without even minding the driver (her father's, which probably explained why she was so pissed off to start with) and doesn't bother with answering when he asks how long she's going to take and if she'd like for him to wait up.
He's easy to find (plus, Chuck points in his direction as soon as she enters the garage.)
"What is it, Karine?" he asks from under the car as soon as she gets nearby.
"How do you know it was me? I hadn't even said a word yet."
"Your high heels don't really help with going unnoticed. Besides, Chuck knows better than to send someone in when I'm busy."
"So I get special treatment?"
"Maybe," he says. "Hold on a sec."
She hears him work for a while, crossing her arms under her chest to stop herself from pacing, not trying to start a conversation.
"Could you get me that, Freckles?"
"What?"
"On the floor, no, not that one, on your right, yeah, that one."
"It's greasy."
"You'll wash your hands, princess."
She doesn't need to look at his face to know he's smirking, calling her that as if he didn't knew she hated it. Clenching her jaw, she takes the wrench and bends to give it to him. She ignores his thanks and straightens up, crossing her arms once again because otherwise she'd start pacing - couldn't have that, no, she was quiting it (it tended to scare away people for some unknown reason, father used to say it was unladylike, she frowned too much while pacing.)
Some minutes later, he slides out from under the car and she lets out a breath, relieved.
"Hey," he says with a half-smile while cleaning some of the grease of his hands with a piece of cloth, giving her a look over. "You look nice. What's the occasion?"
"Are you saying I can't dress up just..." she pauses and shrugs, doesn't really feel like arguing and takes off her sunglasses. "I had a meeting with Dad."
He makes a noncommittal sound and nods to the inside of the building, walking her to his office. She follows in silence, waving to the workers she's met before but whose names she no longer remembers.
"Bathroom," he says and points to a door by the left. When she turns on the faucet, she hears him behind her. "Now, tell me. What's wrong?"
"What makes you think something's wrong?" she says, watching his reflection in the mirror. He stares back, blue eyes framed by a frown.
"You'd never come to my work before. And you saw your dad. I know something's wrong."
"You know, we've only been together, for... what, four months? I don't think you're allowed to know me this well so soon," she raises an eyebrow, meeting his gaze in the mirror and then she sighs. "I don't know. We don't really get along."
"Nm," he crosses his arms as she turns to face him, drying her hands with a towel. She smiles, seeing him leaning against the doorframe, his shirt covered in grease and stains on his chin and right cheek.
"Anyway, I just came to see if you'd like to have lunch with me."
He looks back at the clock sitting in his desk before turning back to her.
"I can't. I should've had that car ready by now."
She shrugs and checks her reflection, adds some gloss on her lips and considers herself decent once again.
"It was worth the shot," she says and walks back into his office. "Come pick me up later?"
"Sure. Where...?"
"Stop by the restaurant, we can grab some dinner before leaving," she smiles and plays with her sunglasses. "I'll see you then."
He smiles back at her, a hand stoping her from leaving when she goes to leave.
"That's all?"
"What?"
"Not even a..."
"I'm not touching you," she interrupts him, disliking the way he seems to stand straight and she has to look up to him and that smirk of his. "You're greasy."
"That's lame."
"Do you even know how much this shirt cost me? I spent half my..." she gets cut off by a kiss and barely manages to grabs his wrists. "Hands off, I don't care how nice and manly you might look right now all dirty, no touching unless you're clean or buying me another shirt."
"I'll get you another one, woman."
"I don't want you to, I happen to like this one just fine, thank you very much, so, no - "
He still manages to get his handprint over her hip underneath her shirt.