au meme } running from the law | blythe

[piqued]

from here.

She isn’t His Consigliere. He isn’t her Soldier. But when it’s time to run, it’s Time to Run, and it doesn’t always get to be Clean and Simple as would be Convenient.

There will be time to sort themselves out properly. Until then, well, at least the di Spade and the Coppe families are more Allied than not these days. It means driving just a Hair above the speed limit down a dark country road with her in his car isn’t a Problem.

Just not the Most Convenient.

“I’m sure we’ll be there soon, Miss.”

Somewhere Safe. Relatively, at any rate.

Comments

[piqued]

That is a Challenge that he'll be rising to without preamble. His arms worm away from holding into scooping, pulling her up bridal style only because he's not certain a fireman's hold wouldn't slam her head into too-low ceilings.

[somuchheart]

Her sound of surprise is quiet, but her eyes are certainly wide. Her arms squeeze lightly before she murmurs distractedly, "You don't have to-- you've proved-- I'm quite sweaty."

[piqued]

"E 'seducente." Which, really, a person doesn't need a speaker of the language to understand. He takes a step before shifting to set her down again. "So am I, mm?"

[somuchheart]

Her breath catches at the Italian, and she steps away a little as soon as he lets her down. "I- yes, you have-- you're strong."

After a pause, she starts heading to the door, hands wringing worriedly. "I don't think we should be doing this."

[piqued]

The silence is briefly Distinct. The pause of his feet is briefly Pronounced. Then he moves to get the door for her. "Shall I take you back to your people, Miss?"

[somuchheart]

"...no. Can we--" She pauses, then starts again. "Can we go back to the motel? So... I can explain?"

[piqued]

His breath is almost, almost a sigh. "...after you, Miss."

[somuchheart]

They'll spend the car ride in silence. She'll curl inwards in her seat, look firmly out the window instead of him. Once they get back to the motel, she'll excuse herself to take a quick shower - in other words, to figure out what she's going to tell him.

When she comes out, she'll sit on the edge of the queen bed, hair wrapped in a towel. "So. I'll... start from the beginning?"

[piqued]

That gives him enough time to undo his cuffs. To change his shirt to one that isn't sweaty. To run a comb through his hair so that it's Neat like Armour again.

To have his own cigarette lit before he moves from his spot leaning beside the door to offer her one. "...if you like."

[somuchheart]

She takes one gratefully, taking a drag before starting to speak. "I... started out working with - you know - when I was nineteen. Five years ago. I'd been preparing for something else my entire life, but when this opportunity presented itself... I couldn't just refuse. My life has always been very focused towards a goal of some sorts. In... in my parents' eyes, and in mine, that left no time for distractions."

Blythe swallows, spends a couple more seconds with the cigarette between her lips, then continues. "I... usually don't-- I'm very focused on my work. But... I don't want to put an incorrect label on it, so I'll just say: I would like to know you better. I don't know- I don't know why, but I would. And sometimes, that's a curious thing, and other times, um... that's quite... quite frightening."

[piqued]

There's not a lot of Space in this room. He moves back to lean against the wall beside the door again, eyes focused on her and attention focused on his own cigarette.

Relating to other people isn't Easy for him. Empathy runs Weak in an old family who bred Soldiers rather than sons. That's likely why his own pause drags a moment before he manages to ask, "...to know me better, Blythe?"

[somuchheart]

She nods a little, looking up at him properly. "I really... I really want to know you. And... it's frightening because it's... different than with other people. And because we're probably not going to see each other after tonight."

[piqued]

"...there's so little to know." He pulls the cigarette, has to move closer to knock ash off into the tray on the bedside table. "You-- do, already. For the last month, yes?"

[somuchheart]

"But that was just-- that was- in the context of living together and just... being friends, and this is-- there's a part of me that wants to know..." She trails off, then decides to take the plunge. "I want to know how you look when you're asleep and how your hair moves in the wind and-- really... intimate things, Declan. --I'm sorry."

[piqued]

...ah.

Stillness isn't Intentional so much as Unavoidable, his attention still locked on the ashtray. It takes a few seconds to move, shifting around to perch carefully apart from her on the bed.

What are they supposed to do with That?

[somuchheart]

"I'm sorry," she repeats, turning to face him even if he won't look at her. "I... This month has been like a dream. I suppose... I just didn't want to wake up."

Pause. "I should go."

[piqued]

"Don't." His hand has to move to her knee, to clutch slightly and prevent her Going. "Don't... wake up just yet."

[somuchheart]

She starts slightly, hand hesitating before she reaches to cover his. "Then... then what?"

[piqued]

He doesn't have an Answer. Not really. But his thumb can lift to smooth the back of her hand, breath coming in a slow gasp of smoke. "...we have tonight."

[somuchheart]

Her fingers close around his properly, and she nods hesitantly before inching closer to him. "So... what do you suggest?"

[piqued]

"...that you watch me sleep." It's a small thing, true, but she's right. It's an Intimate thing. It's something he wants them Both to have. He toes off his shoes carefully, gives the gentlest tug to begin moving them more properly onto the bed.

[somuchheart]

She takes a deep breath, then nods. Her eyes don't leave him as she fumbles to slip under the covers, pulls her towel off her dried hair. And when they're both settled, she'll carefully reach to rest her hands on his arms.

[piqued]

It takes a few seconds to actually take off his shirt. His pants will survive the creasing of curling up on the bed, but he needs to save the shirt.

He takes a moment before shifting closer, settling his own arm over her waist. "...all right?"

[somuchheart]

She nods, then can't help a more genuinely happy laugh. "Don't you have proper nightclothes? I think you need me to take care of you."

[piqued]

"...at home." Which isn't here. Which he's trying not to Think about.