|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Thu Aug 21, 2014 9:11 pm
Robert's hands clenched on her painfully - not when he felt the sting of scissors pressing against his weaponless body, but when she'd spoken the words that he'd known were the root cause of all of this. He said. Robert wasn't in as much control of his strength as he usually was when the rage of knowing how much her father still controlled her started to burn through his veins. He knew he should calm down, and talk through things rationally. He should explain to her why her father was wrong about something as ridiculous as her hair being attached to the idea of hurting others. He should have just been a gentleman about it. Mimsy hadn't married a gentleman. "I am showing you," He growled, bending away just enough to reach in and grab her hand. The scissors were clutched so tightly in her fingers, but he didn't try to pull them away. Instead, he pressed his own thick fingers against the meat just above her wrist, trying to disarm her. "I don't want you to hurt me. I don't want you to make a mess. I'm the one makin' a mess right now, Mimsy. It's me, not you, that's in charge. I know that ain't what you're used to, but-" He faltered, realizing how out of place this was in a moment where he'd just felt so empowered by the passion of her need, that he knew he was going overboard. He knew, he knew he needed to just calm down, he just - His body crumpled for a moment as a thousand insecurities and fears flooded through him, flushing the anger out of his blood. He just wanted to love her, but on his terms this time, on his terms.. A very conflicted groan escaped him as his energy returned, and he pushed her off of his lap, sliding her down onto the ground until he was pinning her down by the wrists. He laid there atop her, trying to decide if he was starting to lose his mind. "You ain't making no mess right now, Mimsy. If I wanna let your hair down, that's my choice. Not yours, not his, not nobody's but mine. You got that?"
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Aug 21, 2014 11:06 pm
It made no sense. If he didn't want her to hurt him, why was he actively progressing towards that result? Mimsy kicked her feet like a child in the throes of a tantrum, and cried out as he put pressure on her hands, struggling against the surrender of her fragile fingers, fighting to prevent them from giving up to save themselves. When they finally gave way, the scissors fell out of her grasp, and she choked out a dry sob and looked to him again, her eyes wide and pleading for a better understanding. Why did he want this? Any of the rare points in her existence where she had fully relinquished control had been out of a necessity that could help her safely continue that existence. There were more frequent instances where she accepted physical assistance for the sake of simplifying something for her, allowing herself to be fed or bathed or carried, but they had begun and ended on her terms, and still provided the opportunity for her to micromanage the situation if necessary. But this was Robert's choice. His rules, his terms, his decisions. He had made that very clear, and despite the many things that she could defensively sway in her favor, not even she could delude herself into believing otherwise. If what he wanted differed so tremendously from what she did...maybe this was a choice of necessity after all. "All right." The resistance stopped all at once as her body settled against the grass. She stared silently at him, and remained completely still as the rise and fall of her chest grew slower and shallower. "It is only fair for you to have what you want if it is already yours. I will comply. Show me what you want. Make a mess. We are historically capable of cleaning up after they occur." A spill in the lab, and cake icing, and all others between there and now did not accurately compare to making a mess of her, but this was not a time to trivialize any comfort she could discover.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Aug 22, 2014 2:03 am
There was a single second where Robert wanted to laugh when he felt her kicking and struggling underneath him, because the moment had become so ludicrous and absurd that he had no idea what he was fighting for anymore. He fought the feeling back, because he knew if he let himself laugh, he was going to lose all the strength he had mustered in that moment and collapse beside her. He couldn't, because he'd already made a stand. He had to try to keep strong. And then she let out that sob, and he knew he was just going to give in to her and let her have her way, apologize a million times and beg her for forgiveness until she finally convinced him that he wasn't the worst husband in the world. He knew he was about to do it, because his heart seizured with pain that traveled all the way through his body, trying to turn his muscles into jelly. He wasn't going to be strong enough for this moment, he just knew it. He'd all but crumpled when he heard her voice tell him it was all right, and his body tensed up painfully. He'd walked the line, that dangerous wire that he'd almost fallen off of time and again, and he'd made it to the other side without falling. It was only fair, she said. She had no idea how much he'd needed to hear those words. He bent down, still pinning her by the wrists, and took her mouth in his. It had all started with her hair, and maybe he would remember that, but at that moment her hair was forgotten. He took her kiss, stealing it needily as he pressed her down against the grass. He took all of her, because she needed to know that his love had come with a price, and the price was all of her.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Aug 22, 2014 12:00 pm
This was something that Mimsy had not accounted for. No portion of her intemperately intricate notes and theories and formulas predicted this - all hypotheticals and variables led to signs of reliable obedience. An obedience so tremendously focused that it was blind to all else, as long as she held the lead. But this was an anomaly, and the greatest of her worries was the fact that she had failed to know this part of him, and had failed to provide him with an equivalent exchange as a result. It was solved for the moment, as it really was fair, but she couldn't rid herself of the fear that she should be doing something more. Something different. Without understanding the significance of these wants and needs, she couldn't ensure success in the future. She couldn't know that she was fulfilling everything he needed, and if she didn't, a tiny part of her in the worst recesses of her mind would always believe that someone else might. She opened her mouth to seek some clarity, and his lips over hers eclipsed her concerns - if only temporarily. It was replaced by a growing determination, an outpouring of a committed need to overachieve and excel at exactly what he wanted. Her fingers twitched in response to him, but she made no effort to pull away, behaving just like she said she would. She could be good. The heel of her boot dug a rut into the ground as her leg curled tightly against him, careful to stay within the set physical boundaries that prohibited the use of her hands. Pleased with her progress in this new state of equilibrium, she smiled into the kiss with a faint sound of contentment. She could be very, very good, and she would prove it.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Aug 22, 2014 11:26 pm
At some point, perhaps after or perhaps during, Robert had absolutely unraveled Mimsy's braids for his own selfish needs. His hands had been lost in her hair ever since, taking full advantage of finally being able to brush his fingers through those long locks, and clutch tightly while lost within them. He'd apologize later for any roughness, but at the time, it felt right. But now all he could do was run his hands through her hair, time and time again. He wondered at the length of it, and how long it took him to get through it all. His arm wrapped around her, holding her tight against him while his other hand learned the secrets of Mimsy's normally braided hair. Then he bent in and kissed her neck, letting his lips linger there as if sealing some promise with the kiss. He helped her sit up, crushing her against him with her back against his chest, and gave her a warm, worshipping hug. "Okay. Hold the ribbon for me. I'ma braid your hair back." She'd given him everything, and he wanted to show her that he would keep his promise when she did.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Aug 23, 2014 2:22 pm
When the last braid came undone, Mimsy hadn't even noticed. She registered new sensations and new responses that they evoked, but she failed to catch the fact that her hair was entirely freed from the braids until Robert picked her up and informed her that he would return her hair to that state. It had been a long time since anyone else braided her hair like this. It had been her own task for almost twenty years now, and the only times since then that someone else's hands had worked through her hair to twine it into two straight plaits were occasions where she had misbehaved. When she had been very, very bad. That wasn't the case here, was it? The kiss implied that it was not, but the familiarity of his instructions struck a chord that implied otherwise. She shifted in his lap, and a hesitant noise caught in her throat. "No," she murmured. Though she did take the hair ribbons as he requested of her, she shook her head, making a bigger mess of her hair than the one that already existed. "Why did you want them to be loose? Do you prefer it this way? I apologize. I did not know." She twisted to look at him, and cautiously placed her hand over one of his, coaxing his fingers to lace with hers. He had made a solid case for his reasons with what he had just shown her, but a confirmation was still of importance, far preferable to an unsupported hypothesis. "Would you like for it to be unbraided at all times, or only for the function that you demonstrated?" As easy as it was to ask these questions, she could feel the tightness returning to her chest, hidden beneath the remnants of the euphoric flutter there.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Aug 23, 2014 2:59 pm
He had to really think about that one. Did he like her hair out more than in the braids? He rose both hands up, and slid his fingers into the thick of it. He savored the way each strand slid against his skin, giving way to his firm, needy touch. He severely considered whether this was something that changed his perceptions and emotions, before finally sliding his hands back out of her hair and brushing them around her neck instead. "I don't care if your hair is in braids or out. I love you both ways just the same. But I appreciated the chance to try." His hand brushed her hair out of the way, enough to lean in and kiss her cheek fondly. "I know the braids are important to you, but I didn't want them to be someone elses choice. If you wanna braid your hair back up, I want it to be because you like them that way. Not because somebody else told you it was important. To me, you're perfect no matter what." His face planted into her hair, burying himself in it until he could find her neck again, and rested there happily nestled in the darkness.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Aug 23, 2014 4:03 pm
The moment of thought and experimentation had not been anticipated, but Mimsy understood. She patiently waited, and listened intently to his assessment. It all made sense - excepting the portion about this being someone else's choice. Where had he gotten that idea? There was no one else who wanted her to wear her hair in any specific... oh. She swallowed past the lump in her throat. So the battle between those two mentalities had been purposely initiated after all. A solid bridge of cause and effect began to form over the gaps that remained. She considered her statement of fairness, worried momentarily over the punishment that she might or might not receive, and tried to approach it as truthfully as she could. "I have no concrete preferences regarding my physical appearance. It has been important to me that I follow the guidelines that include the necessity for my hair to be neat and secure because..." She fidgeted, and sounded as if she tried and failed to continue the sentence multiple times. "They are terrible messes, Robert. He said that it would help, and it did. It was not immediate, but it did, and--" She took a deep breath, and failed to acknowledge any sense of reason about this for the thousandth time. As hard as she tried to push past it, the correlation remained direct, not incidental. "It is important because I was informed that it should be important, and that ignoring its importance would result in more reckless behavior. It is primarily followed to avoid disapproval. It is of no separate importance. If my behavior does not suffer for this alteration, then I only require that it is not an impediment. I want to appeal to your wants." When each point had been listed out, she sharply sighed and leaned into him. "Please advise. This is quite difficult."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Aug 23, 2014 6:31 pm
A soft, barely audible breath of a chuckle escaped against her neck when she reminded him that they were terrible messes. He needed no reminder. He knew exactly how terrible her messes were, and his arms had not gotten any less tighter. "I would like to believe that you're a lot more capable now than you were back then, Mimsy. Things are different. You're different. You're an adult, a grown woman who's married and living in her own house now. You did these things on your own, with no messes. Not because you kept your hair perfectly braided, but because you reached out past the boundaries that were on you before, and you tried something new. This is the same thing, and you're gonna get the same result. Nothing bad's ever gonna happen, so long as I got you." He ran the fingers of one hand down her hair again, diving deep into it until he managed to separate it into two lengths, and draped one of them over her shoulder. "Besides," He growled, a mixture of amusement and recklessness. "Sometimes I like your messes. Not a lot. But sometimes."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Aug 23, 2014 8:15 pm
The fact that what Robert said possessed an incredible amount of clarity and beneficial insight didn't surprise Mimsy - she continued to have a level of faith in him that most everyone else seemed to think was absurd, but she had no difficulty recalling several more instances where he had brought her towards the light when no one else had. It was what he said that startled her, largely because it all became so obvious as soon as he said it. "Thank you." She could only manage a mumble, but it sounded nowhere near disingenuous. "You're right. It can be difficult to see these things when I am examining each event piece by piece. I believe you." And if he felt no need to reprimand or punish her for the messes that she made...it truly was nonsensical to be so concerned over making them, especially when he was willing to help her through them. It was a startling contrast to realize how greatly this differed from her father's solution; she couldn't recall ever cleaning up her own messes, or so much as helping, even when she had been old enough to do so. He had always done it for her, explained why her actions were wrong, and scolded her until her eyes looked at her feet instead of a point in space just past him. She couldn't remember why that ever felt like it made sense. "I like your messes too. As long as they are not in my lab, of course." The sound of a grin changed her tone, and her short pause was filled by a stifled laugh. "But I think I like our messes best of all." The sound of her attempts to subdue her laughter subsided, and it seemed that she intended to be quiet while his hands worked with her hair. And she had, but he feeling of his fingers passing through it and separating it into more manageable sections was exactly what made her change her mind. "I think that I would like to feel you braid it," she blurted out, bowing her head and quieting her voice before she continued. "I just--I would like to know what it feels like. You may take it out again afterwards, if you prefer."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Aug 23, 2014 9:26 pm
Anytime someone as brilliant and perfect as Mimsy uttered the words You're right to him, Robert nearly exploded with pride. Just the sheer act of getting something right did so much for his self-esteem. He leaned back, and pulled all of the hair that he hadn't draped over her shoulder, into his hand. His fingers reached up and continued to make sure the line of her scalp was visible, and even, running up and down it with featherlight touches as he caught all the strays. "Aww, but honey," He whined, combing through the hair. "My very first mess with you was in a lab, remember? It's why we're together. Come on, you can't say you don't appreciate that mess." He grinned, but she could only hear it through his voice. "Anyway, you can't blame me if I make a mess in your lab. That's where you keep all the shinies! Everything there is so sparkly and just dying to be touched. Just like you." He tickled her side with his free hand at the last comment, and then took the ribbon, unraveling it and setting it on his knee. "I like our messes too." Except for the one they had both left behind in the house at that moment. He was sure he wasn't going to like that mess at all - but worrying about that could wait. Now, he focused on getting to braid Mimsy's hair. He did it slowly, trying to be perfect with each knot. His fingers slid in and out of her hair, and the unbraided lengths underneath brushed against his arms, his chest, his thighs. But the more he braided it the more he realized that working her hair like this was unnaturally turning him on. And that was bad, because he was trying to fix the mess they'd made, not make another one. He'd gotten to the end of an entire braid, tied it up with a ribbon, and then picked her up and flipped her around to sit on his lap. "Okay. Just. Just sit right there a minute." It was obvious by his voice and his expression he was straining, but it was also obvious why. "I'll get to your other braid after." After what, she might have asked - if he wasn't quick to show her exactly what after meant.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Aug 24, 2014 12:41 am
When Mimsy felt him begin to work, she closed her eyes and relaxed, wearing an ill-fitting look of contentment that seemed like she had never quite learned how to properly put it on. A calm enveloped her, a feeling of impossible familiarity, and she might have drifted off to sleep if not for what he was saying. "Yes, I remember. I could not forget." Her head tilted pensively to one side. "I suspect that our recollections may vary, however. The first laboratory accident that involved both of us occurred two years ago, shortly after my arrival here. I do appreciate it now - it was the occasion when we met. While I do consider this our catalyst, I am not certain that you will still agree." She offered no further commentary after wriggling away from the tickling, and sat in silence to take in every last infinitesimal detail about this moment: the slow, methodical motions, the deft curling of his fingers, the acceleration of his breath. She continued to withhold observations or inquiries as he finished one braid and turned her around, and waited with only a knowing smile when he told her to sit for a minute. There was still an argument to be made about the importance of those sparkly, shiny objects and subjects in the lab that were 'dying to be touched', about the necessity of caution, about restraint. But that was not an argument that she wanted to make at this particular point in time, even if it meant enforcing bad habits.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Aug 24, 2014 1:27 am
Robert was getting exasperatingly impatient, and it was obvious by the way he was trying to undress her as minimalistically as possible. He slowed and paused when she spoke, as a sudden sense of guilt started to dig deep into him, tamping down his other, more obvious urges. "Nah." Robert sighed out, pressing his forehead against hers. "That's. I mean, I guess I never admitted this because it's really awful. Talk about messes, hah.." His skin flushed a healthy shade of red as he recalled the day Mimsy had dropped that beaker, and he'd gotten too close. Closer than she knew. "I leaned in, and, I don't know, it's stupid to feel guilty about it now but I do, I really do, because I was married then and I shouldn't have - but - it's like, when you feel something, and you know it's wrong, but that don't change how you feel." He was making no sense, and he knew it. He closed his eyes, and tried again. "I felt something. For you, like, in that moment, I felt like I wanted.. and I shouldn't have. So I went home, and convinced myself that I was just being a stupid guy, and needed to get my s**t together. And I did." His mouth tilted up slightly. "For a while." That day had been the first time Robert had seen Mimsy as anything but that nerdy scientist who talked like a robot and always hung out in the labs. He'd seen, and felt, something more - and spent an entire day convincing himself he hadn't. "My heart was calling out to you, even then. Even then."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Aug 24, 2014 2:25 am
The intoxicated sense of serenity continued as Robert began to speak again, and she listened with one crookedly raised brow and a similarly crooked smile. It lasted only until he said 'I was married then', and sobriety returned with a shock of envy. The smile twitched into a sneer. She pressed her lips together and tried to hide it with a pinched mimicry of the smile she'd worn a second ago, while she did her best to listen without clouded judgment. Objectively, she could see that these were admissions that she should be accepting towards, that her knowledge of the feelings and guilt should have resonated with a biological trigger that would allow her to be more empathetic. It should have, but it didn't. "You are married now." The judgment had still been pretty cloudy, despite her (marginally acceptable) efforts. "And should have wanted me then, and now. You should always want me, because your heart belongs to me, and my...I..." The loose fabric of her partially-buttoned dress shifted as she moved to put her hand in the center of his chest. "It knows what belongs to you. Ignoring that for any amount of time is all that you should not have done." She kissed him once, and a lengthier second time, then pulled away to whisper against his lips. "I need you. It knew that I have always needed you."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Aug 24, 2014 2:54 am
Robert had given up the pretense of Mimsy feeling empathetic for Petra's loss long ago, and he wasn't dumb enough to think she would agree about his guilt. But he knew better, and he still felt it hard and heavy in the heart that called out to her. He knew better. He'd known better. It changed nothing. He heard the sharpness of that voice telling him he was married now, and in that one word she indicated the weight of that choice. She wanted him to want her, even when he'd thought it was the wrong choice. Well, he reasoned, he had. He admitted it, just moments ago. Whether or not it was right or wrong wasn't her decision - but it was the truth. "Don't you fret, baby girl." Robert whispered, pulling her down into his arms while collapsing back on the grass. "I ain't never gonna ignore my heart again." This was where all that past had led him. Her. Them. The future felt a lot more secure than the past. "I need you." He told her, and made it clear by the way he pulled her back in for a much harder kiss, what he needed at that moment.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
