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 Posted: Thu Aug 08, 2013 10:39 pm
"Persistence is, both regrettably and fortunately, one of my more prominent traits," said Gale, though his eyes were sparkling with amusement and affection. "Besides," he added, gently poking a finger against her cheek. "I wasn't about to give up so easily, not when I thought I even had a shred of a chance with you. And look where it got us now."
Sometimes he still couldn't quite believe it. Sometimes he still couldn't quite understand why it was that she had said yes, why she had given him, of all people, a chance with her. It was somewhat mind boggling, Gale struggling to comprehend it all.
He arched a brow, glancing down at the remaining Oreo.
"What do you want to do?" Gale asked. "This night was mostly me dragging you around places, taking you where I had planned for us; every choice so far was made by me, with maybe the exception of going to the cinema, so this time you pick."
His expression was affectionate, Gale twisting a strand of hair around his finger lightly.
"What do you want to do?"
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Posted: Fri Aug 09, 2013 12:02 am
She puffed her cheek out at the poke, smiling more. The way Gale talked made her sound like a legend instead of the reticent creature she was, and it was terribly flattering--even though she still couldn't comprehend how much he valued this, valued her. Just hormones, she'd tell herself. Just hormones running their usual endorphin high. Just a phase. A very wonderful phase.
"Dragging insinuates I didn't want to go, which I very much did," Stormy pointed out, lightly poking his chest. "It's good you're persistent, though, because I'm not. You're like--like the bull who keeps on running once his course is set that nothing can stop. I'm like the initial burst of lightning, there for a moment and then gone." She paused, then laughed softly. "I guess you pick your nicknames well...It's horrible to have ideas and never go through with them, I'll say that much. It brings up the worst question in the world: what if?"
Which was the question that nagged her now. What if she had just went for it in London and kissed him? Why hadn't she? They'd had several opportune moments, in the garden and in front of the portal...What was wrong with her? What if she just went for it now? But it wouldn't be organic; awkward more like...A girl throwing herself at a guy to fulfill some status quo for the date instead of because she felt drawn to do so.
Stormy hummed as she mulled her decision over, acutely aware of how he played with her hair all of a sudden, and how the final Oreo piece was still waiting in her palm. "...I want you to stay," she said at length, for once being direct (though her gaze less so, being more a glance at his nose). "For as long as I can have you, if that's all right? The room won't always be empty like this, so..." She wanted--needed to fill the space left from such a lonely room.
Moving away from Gale, she strove to quickly make her bed, snatching the red panda plush underarm before settling herself atop the covers. She slipped off her sandals and crossed her legs before inviting Gale to join her. "I want to talk," she added, lightly hugging the animal to her chest. "I want to talk and cuddle and, just...I want to give you more of my words because that's all I feel I can give to repay you for tonight. You don't even have to contribute if you don't want to, just a topic to talk about is fine. I just...want to say something good and have someone else witness, and I want your ears..."
kurotomato crappy pone tag back what is even our internets
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Posted: Fri Aug 09, 2013 7:09 am
"And I'm terribly glad that you wanted to go, otherwise this would have been a very unsuccessful evening," said Gale, his smile turning into a playful grin. "And yes, I'll be the bull that chases you, although bulls are pretty mean, so maybe that's not the best synonym."
A low exhale escaped him, Gale still twining a piece of hair around his finger. "Too many what ifs," he said. "If you spend your entire life just thinking what if, you never really get anywhere proper, do you? Then you spend most of your time regretting and not enough time doing."
He felt his stomach twist a little, felt a small flutter of nervousness and pleasure and happiness and hesitation and everything all at once, Gale shifting from one foot to the other. Stormy pulled away and was moving towards her bed, shuffling stuff around until it was made and she was sitting on top, her stuffed animal hugged to her chest, and now he definitely did not want to leave because she was so damn cute and so damn amazing and everything all at once all over again.
Gale reached down, pulling off his own shoes before he padded across the room to join her, crawling onto the bed and sitting beside her. After a moment, he reached out and pulled her against his chest, sliding his arms around her and pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
"I like this plan," he said softly, his face against her hair. "Just you and me."
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Posted: Fri Aug 09, 2013 5:02 pm
Gale received a good long look when he gave his observation. It wasn't a stare because the word was too harsh for what Stormy was doing, and it wasn't a gaze either because it was a little more active than that. Action and inaction, decision and indecision, thinking and doing. She watched him slide into the bed, settle himself, pull her into his arms, and forgot she had been holding an Oreo piece; it slipped between her fingers and landed softly on the bed.
"Now you're getting it," she said softly.
Her arms were locked around the plush, but oh if she had wiggle room...But perhaps it was better to be contained as it were. Bundled and held like a doll herself.
"Anything specific you want to talk about?" she asked, tilting and turning her head so she could look at him. "Oh, before I forget!" She held up the plush and with a smile and softly recited: "In the room the women come and go / Talking of Michelangelo~"
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Posted: Fri Aug 09, 2013 9:10 pm
She felt warm and comfortable in his arms, and he was never going to get over the fact that she had decided to date him, of all people. Gale let his head rest alongside Stormy's, idly playing with one of her hands, poking at the stuffed animal she held in her arms.
"Anything," he said. "And nothing. And everything."
He was probably making no sense, but he was still stupidly giddy from the contact and from the date and from everything Stormy and Gale glance down at the plush she was holding.
"No coming and going," he said. "You're staying right here."
There was amusement evident in his voice, Gale folding his arms around Stormy easily. He liked the way she felt there, liked the way she fit in his embrace, and he instinctively curled towards her more, laughing lightly into her hair.
"I wish I had something witty to say, but I really don't have anything other than an odd variety of Sherlock Holmes quotes, and none of those quite seem to fit..."
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Posted: Sat Aug 10, 2013 1:35 am
He definitely didn't make sense, but that was alright; she didn't always make sense either. "I wouldn't want to leave your arms anyway," Stormy said as a matter of factly. "They're quite cozy and secure as it is~ Buuut like I said, this little one here is Michelangelo." She made the red panda wave a paw with a smile. "I've had him since I was little. Almost . . . ten years now." She was surprised by her own statement, because while the plush animal did look like it had weathered time, she had never considered Michelangelo old; venerated and timeless and familiar, but not old. "I know it's weird for someone my age to have one, but . . . he holds a lot of memories for me, good and bad. And when something holds that much of your life between its threads, all soaked up like a sponge with everything you gave it over the years? When it does, you don't let it go. He's like . . ." She scrunched her face in thought. "Like my personal picture of Dorian Gray, but without all the nastiness involved, if that makes sense. Maybe more like an inverse, because the more I hold him, the more good feelings I can absorb."
Her smile grew as Gale folded a little more around her, the feel of his laughter like a warm breeze in her hair. "I wouldn't mind hearing some quotes!" Stormy encouraged him with a glance. "I never got to read as much of him as I wanted to . . . I read Hound of the Baskervilles back in seventh grade, but I barely remember it now . . ." A lot of useless information had blotted out most of what she had learned in her early years really. Humming in thought, she let Michelangelo sit in her lap and closed her eyes. What to talk about, what to talk about . . . If she tried to focus on any one thing, though, it fled as it often did. Perhaps she could coax out her thoughts by simply letting her mind wander and her mouth open at the opportune time.
"Mmm . . ." Stormy seemed to drift after a few moments, resting a little more against Gale as she walked the vast landscapes of her imaginative little mind. "Okay, you're not a bull . . . Bulls are just as stubborn as you, but they're a little quick to aggression. Is it strange to break people down into totems like that, you think?" She paused as if chasing a stray thought. "I've always thought of my brothers as guard dogs, for instance. I mean, that's normal I bet, but when I close my eyes and think about it I can really imagine them, growling when upset, tails wagging when happy . . . They're simple people to understand and please, and I envy that.
"I can imagine a lot of things when I close my eyes, really; it's uncanny and helpful and detrimental and loony all at once."
Another pause, slightly longer.
"You were onto something there, you know," Stormy went on to say in a more quiet voice. "About too many what ifs making you regret things."
xkurotomato oh god i hope this didn't quote you multiple times why do i post so late
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Posted: Sat Aug 10, 2013 9:20 pm
"Good," said Gale. "Just stay here and be cozy, and everything will be all right."
He glanced down at the little creature with interest, reaching out to poke at its soft tail, flick it from side to side curiously. "It's not weird," he said. "It's actually pretty cute. I like when people keep things from their childhood. Reminds me that once upon a time we were children."
He ran a hand over the soft fur. "And it's part of your life, and that's important, right?"
Shifting a little, Gale reached out and grabbed a pillow, settling against it more comfortably, his arms resting loosely around Stormy. He put his head near hers and poked his nose back against her hair because she smelled like flowers and ice cream and cookies and crisp London air and he loved it. "Not strange," he said. "It's perfectly normal, and I think everybody does it in one sense of the word or another. You think animals, other people might think something else. I remember once a girl I knew in grade school named Annie - she had...what was it called...synesthesia? I think so. She would always pair up colors with various numbers. Ask her what the number four was and she'd say 'yellow' instead of 'an even number.' Stuff like that. I always thought it was pretty cool, so this isn't weird to me."
He smoothed a hand over the top of her hair, breathing out slowly and leaned his head back against the wall. "Oh?" said Gale quietly, looking up at the ceiling and counting the cracks in the tile. "Ar e you regretting something now?"
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Posted: Sun Aug 11, 2013 2:39 am
She said nothing at first, content to just enjoy the feeling of his face against her hair. It was an odd sort of intrusion cushioned by curled thick hair that, even when restrained in a braid, still felt like a heavy mess on her head--hardly sensitive; and yet where his nose pressed Stormy became hyper aware, a burst of tingles occurring around ground zero and falling down her neck like the aftershock. "The act of keeping a childhood item close is in itself childish," she observed with a light smile, her eyes still closed, her demeanor not betraying the butterflies that flew about briefly in her stomach at the strangely intimate contact. "I don't believe any of us ever fully grow up. We have the same joys and carry and face the same problems we did as children: they're just under different names, different circumstances, and have more complexity."
Snows dogs and fruit fights and plush animals and, of course, Disney. She was probably the most childish of them all.
"Synesthesia," Stormy agreed. "I think I wrote a character who had that once.There was a time where I thought I had it, too . . . but also not quite that at the same time. Smells that remind me of tastes, tastes that remind me of smells, faces that tell me they have this or that personality, noises that paint pictures so vivid I can see them happening right in front of my eyes, music without words that told me stories the length of novels in two minutes . . ." She was starting to get lost in her own world the longer she left her eyes closed, though she didn't remember if this was exactly what she had wanted to begin with or not. Her tongue was loosened at any rate.
Gale's question gave her pause, even though she had been the one to bring it up in the first place (as usual). In truth, Stormy regretted many things past and present. Little things that added up, middling things that could not be changed, larger things that were repressed because this moment was at a crossroads in atmosphere, and she would have hated so very much to tip it towards sadness when there was no reason (outwardly) to be. I regret not making our first kiss in London. I regret that I'm not short enough to tuck myself neatly under your chin. I regret pulling all these moody twists on you. Even though it was in her nature, whatever her innocent first impressions were.
So Stormy did as she always had done when faced with a problem she didn't know how to answer; she touched on it in a roundabout manner.
Instead, she hummed one single, solitary note for several seconds. "Middle C," she explained, the corners of her lips lifting. "Even after two years, I still know the note. It's ingrained in me as much as my name is. Maybe it's perfect pitch, even . . ." The smile faded before it was fully formed; her fingers fiddled with Michelangelo's tail. "I regret not having picked piano back up yet. I keep meaning to, really, but . . . I use the excuse that I don't have a piano to practice on. I need music in my life or I'll go crazy eventually."
Like perhaps right now. She was driving herself nuts thinking about this and that, what ifs and if only's and maybe's and should she's and perhaps not's.
"Maybe that's why I sing randomly," she murmured as an after thought. "What about you, Gale? Are you regretting anything right now?"
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Posted: Sun Aug 11, 2013 10:24 pm
At first he had wished that he had had this before, that he had been able to have Stormy in his life for longer than the seemingly short time they'd had so far. But if he looked closer at it, if he really thought about it, it was better to have not had her because now he appreciated her so much more than he probably would have. If things had worked out with Eva, they would not have been the same, and now he could see that, now he could see that they had not ever been meant to work out.
"I didn't have much of a childhood," Gale said, his face still against her hair, his eyes closed. He felt warm and happy and pleased and stupidly ridiculously content just sitting there with Stormy in his arms because for once, for once things had gone well, things had gotten the way they were supposed to have gone and it had been wonderful. "I grew up a little too fast so I missed out on doing a lot of the things other children my age did."
He liked just hearing her talk. Gale listened quietly, curled with Stormy, and felt his stomach fluttering and twisting nervously even though there was no real reason to be nervous, even though they were together and they were still there after such a special night.
"I like it when you sing," he said quietly and kissed her cheek, leaning his forehead against her temple and exhaling slowly. "And I like you. As for regrets, well..."
He kissed the side of her head. "None that really involve anything negative about you, unless you count me not kissing you properly that one time. But most of my regrets are not saying proper last words to people I won't see anymore, y'know? I mean, the last thing I said to Leslie...I can't even remember, really. And I know my last words to Ben weren't good ones."
Subconsciously he held Stormy a little tighter, as though afraid if he let go she would disappear. "I just don't want people dying or leaving without saying goodbye first."
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Posted: Sun Aug 11, 2013 11:00 pm
"I'll help you then," she told him with a sidelong glance and a shy smile. "Be a kid, I mean. I think I'm good at that." Though whether she was childish or childlike was a matter of opinion.
She fell into a different sort of quiet as he spoke, however, the melancholic kind she had thought to avoid only moments before now creeping up on her because, as ever, she was prey to the intangible: to the memories that she kept ahold of, old clothes that no longer fit but that she could not give away. Neither the kisses nor his proximity seemed to be able to chase the chill completely away, but it was silly of her to expect it to; Gale was a new spring sun shining on a land that had been in months of deep winter cold.
Leave it to Stormy to be able to feel down from one little memory, after a fantastic date, sitting in her boyfriend's arms, on her bed, close as could be.
"My last words to my mother weren't my best either," she murmured, dangerously close to drifting further. "I still regret them three years later. Those are the worst kinds of sorrow, I think: wishing you could have said something different." And with one and a half of those years spent in the pod, the pain felt fresher still.
Music. She needed music to pull her out of the rut, and if he liked to hear her sing, then . . .
Humming tonelessly for several seconds, Stormy loosened her clutch on Michelangelo and found Gale's arms and hands, her fingers placed on top of his skin like they were a piano, slightly curled and spaced out. Searching . . . searching . . . What to sing? Why, out of the countless other times she had sung snippets, was she nervous to do so here? She felt her hands tremble a little as they began to play a tune only she could hear in her head, the instrumental melody hummed for Gale's benefit as best she could where words did not occur.
And so, in a sometimes wavery voice, she began to sing.
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Posted: Mon Aug 12, 2013 12:03 am
"Mmm," said Gale in agreement, smiling against Stormy's hair. "You can teach me all about what kids do and I'll just follow your need because you know best.
The conversation had turned more serious than he had expected, but he didn't regret it, not at least that because how could they ever hope to succeed as a couple if they didn't talk about the more serious things as well as the fun, lighthearted things? He could hear Stormy murmuring a few bars of music, and then he felt her fingers against his, warm and small. He waited, his stomach doing somersaults, and then he heard it -
- singing. She was singing to him.
Her voice may have been wavery, hesitant at first, but to Gale it was beautiful, it was everything, and he felt himself slipping further under her spell, her room, her arms, her hands, her voice, her scent, everything that was Stormy surrounding him, burying him, drowning him and he just wanted to stay here with her forever and never let go.
He felt his heart hammering in his chest, a beat that was faster than normal due to the proximity of Stormy and before he could stop himself, Gale had leaned over, ducked his head, and kissed her.
It was a brief kiss, as it had been before, and he'd actually been aiming more for her cheek but had somehow misdirected himself, instead landing lightly on her lips and he wasn't entirely sure if it had been accidental or accidentally-on-purpose. His brain was too fuzzy and too filled with too many thoughts to think clearly on that subject, but either way he had just kissed her, and although it had been nothing more than a quick peck it was still a kiss. Gale drew back his head, taking a sharp breath.
"Sorry," he said, and it was reminiscent of the first time he had kissed her, back when he had been almost entirely certain that he had no chance with her. "You were singing and it was lovely and I just..."
His fingers wrapped around her hand. "I didn't want to rush you," he said. "I'm sorry, I just acted on impulse."
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Posted: Mon Aug 12, 2013 3:05 am
Her eyes had been closed. They were now opened and watching him with a curious, unreadable expression.
It was like a triangle instrument: one light stroke was all it took to make a sound, a beautiful single note that reverberated in the air long after the strike had happened, existing in lingering echoes. That was how Stormy felt about his little "quick peck", but she had no way of voicing it because she was stunned into silence. It was somehow an echo in and of itself: the scene on a flat but soft surface, one leaning in and brushing and pulling back and apologizing, and one somehow too oblivious to see it coming, to know how to react when boundary lines were crossed and not because she had instigated it.
It was a single voice in the auditorium waiting to be instructed. What did the conductor want? More importantly, who was leading and who was following?
Belatedly, the blushing began.
At first her thoughts had fled; now they were scrambling again, fighting for the position of being her foremost thought. And what energy it took to think all of a sudden; Stormy was grateful he was warm, because she was starting to sink in those arms . . . But once again it was a matter of a wide awake brain and a suddenly slowly body, a problem she was often plagued by and often loathed. Her hands squeezed his as they curled around them."It sounds better with a real piano," she mumbled mildly, feeling how hot her face was. Her lips were still tingling from the contact. Was it rushing, or was she watching her perfect opportunity slip by again? Her heart was beating a mile a minute, but could he hear that? She liked to push here and there, but oh what a rare moment it was for someone to push first! What to do, what to do . . . There was a winner in her thoughts shortly after.
First, Stormy scooted a little closer, her dress almost pressed to his suit as she leaned forward. Then her hands slipped from his, moving up and over to encircle his neck and clasp each other to keep her steady as she raised her head and touched her forehead to his in the position she had been charmed by from the beginning. Every motion was deliberate and slow in case something happened; there was no room for accident or accident-on-purpose here, from the shift of their proximity to the softness of her voice.
"Don't apologize." She was still flushed, so it was clear she was still self-conscious if not nervous about her maneuver--but the unreadable expression had changed: she now wore a small, secretive smile. "I have a question for you again, though."
If they were playing out deja vu, why not feed it?
"Do you want me to sing some more? Or . . . ?" She trailed away on purpose, almost teasingly. It was almost a game to her, if she fought against her flustered impulses and pretended to be in control.
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Posted: Mon Aug 12, 2013 4:36 am
He was nervous for her response, nervous that he'd pushed too much too fast. Sitting there with Stormy in his arms, Gale felt his heart thudding against his chest in quick, erratic beats as though somehow trying to catch up with his brain, and his fingers held hers carefully, wondering if she was about to pull away and take the warmth of them with her.
But then she moved - and it wasn't away, it was closer, and although her hands left his, they were relocated to a much better spot around his neck, and Gale's arms went almost instinctively around her waist, sliding so that his hands were linked together against the small of her back. Their foreheads together in that favorite position, he sat there and tried to keep his heartbeat under control again, his stomach doing not just somersaults now but flip flops, twists, jumps, leaps and rolls.
"All right," he said, his voice coming out slightly less steady than it had been a moment ago, Gale's confidence slipping just a little bit. "What's the question?"
His chest felt oddly tight because while he had kissed her now twice, it had been a quick, barely there brush of his lips against hers and it had been, sad to say, his first attempts at kissing anyone. But now...now he was suddenly uncertain and maybe he was wrong maybe he was a terrible kisser, maybe he wouldn't be good at this.
But still...
"Or..." Gale leaned an inch closer, testing the waters, carefully giving her enough room to move back if she wanted, if she wasn't going to take that extra shift forward, his arms tightening a little around her waist.
"...what's my other option?" he said quietly, almost afraid to hear the answer.
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Posted: Mon Aug 12, 2013 11:23 am
She listened carefully: there was a slight break in his normally (and sometimes she wondered impossibly) regulated voice, so she knew she had at least made some impression. And much like a moth to the flame he had moved just a little closer, maybe not of his own conscious thinking. Excellent.
Her smile grew because she couldn't help herself, he looked so precious dipping his toes in the pool like that.
"You're Sherlock, aren't you? I'd say you could figure it out~" Stormy teased further, a mischievous glint in her eye like there had been in the theater. Because saying or kiss me was far too direct to be fun. "Here's a hint: I'd be giving you a thimble~"
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Posted: Mon Aug 12, 2013 2:05 pm
It was strange that he was sitting here now with her, strange that he of all people had managed to find someone that wanted to be with him too because in all honesty he had never thought it was possible. And yet, here he was - here they both were and it was terrifying and magical and wonderful and scary and beautiful all at the same time.
He liked the way she was smiling, and he could see that smile, see the curve of her lips upwards as she spoke, her voice low and teasing and affectionate, and it made his stomach twist even more. Gale found himself smiling along with her, sliding a hand up to the back of her head.
"Guess you better go find me a thimble then," he said, and finally, wonderfully, amazingly, kissed her - this time for real, his lips pressing against hers in a surprisingly unhesitant kiss in spite of his insecurities.
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