SUDDEN MARRIAGE MEME.

[glassbox]

post as your character. other characters reply. OR other people/anons reply to your character with another character's name. congratulations, your character and that character are now married! thread icly as a married couple.

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[waiting]

[ he's used to restless sleepers, and late nights. he has that extraordinary ability of being able to sleep like a rock at the drop of a hat but still snap wide awake at the first sign of any danger. he goes to bed early, or as early as his work schedule permits, but he only sleeps or short stretches at a time, and he's downstairs now to get a drink.

he isn't surprised to see danger up. she wasn't in bed, after all. ]

Staying up is bad for your health. Science says so, anyway. You want anything? [ is what he calls over, rummaging through the refrigerator dressed only in his boxers and a faded shirt. ]

[heartlessglitch]

[ her attention drifts from the television onto him when he speaks to her, her pupil-less eyes following his movement to the fridge. she unfolds her limbs from the couch, coming to stand in the kitchen entryway, leaning her shoulder against the wall. she'd have stronger, stiffer (more mechanical) posture, but she's tired now-- just unwilling to sleep. she resists these human functions-- even dislikes eating more than she has to-- but it's one of her more human moments.

even with those blank eyes, the tangles of blue braids and dreadlocks, the shape of her organic body hidden by a shirt broad enough in the shoulders to likely be his-- her weariness softens her edges. ]

No. Thank you.

[ she's watching him with a quiet sort of consideration that makes it's way into her normally clinical tone. ]

Did I wake you?

[waiting]

[ he shakes his head. ]

Nah. Takes more than that to get me up. [ he's eying her with frank, open appreciation, leaning one arm against the refrigerator's door, before he nudges it shut with his hip, tipping the milk carton up to his lips. yes, rick bradbury is that kind of guy, but it's the last of the milk anyway, and he drops it into the trash when he's done.

he's not stupid enough to tell danger he likes her more human moments. he knows better. but it's endearing, nonetheless, and some of that probably shows in his expression when he steps over towards her, reaching out to settle a hand on her hip, looking down. ]

Nice shirt.

[ he's teasing, but the rumble in his voice could just as easily be from being newly woken up as anything else. ]

[heartlessglitch]

[ at first, back when they'd only started becoming close, she would have rejected being touched that way-- it's taken her time, to get accustomed, not just to the way a human-like body experiences things like touch, but to him. in her mind, she catalogs all the little details, learning his habits, his quirks. what he looks like when he's waking up. or what his voice sounds like when he's teasing her.

her touch is somewhere between vaguely affectionate and exploratory when her fingertips trail from where his hand rests on her hip over the round bone in his wrist to his elbow. she answers in her straight-forward way. ]

I concluded that borrowing it was a more appropriate alternative to going without one. [ in a pointed tone, like it's very quaint to her that clothing is an issue of any kind with organics: ] According to human social norms.

[waiting]

Yeah? [ he chuckles, but it's a fond, affectionate sort of sound, one that she's probably heard anytime she's done something he finds cute. or endearing. danger treats being human as a constant experiment, and it makes sense to him, but it's still a little funny to hear her lay it out so clinically. her straightforwardness is refreshing, though. there's no second-guessing with danger, or at least, no second-guessing about whether she means what she says.

she isn't human, but he'd like to think he's helping her learn a little bit about how to be. ]

I guess the neighbors wouldn't appreciate you flashing them. [ but he would, the dip of his tone implies. he lets her grab his his wrist, but his other hand is running over her thigh, thumb rubbing thoughtfully over the skin the meets the hem of his shirt. with mild, candid curiosity:

So, any other human social norms for when you're wearing your husband's shirt?

[heartlessglitch]

[ and he is helping her. the truth is, every day she becomes a little more like them, in small ways, even if she never really loses her strangeness. there's always something alien about her, something more than just the way she looks.

it's hard to tell if she's being wry or not when she replies: ]

I have insufficient data with which to respond. I have only ever experienced having one husband, and I wouldn't say that my arrangement with him qualifies as socially normal.

[ she pauses, her gaze shifting to the place where his thumb brushes her skin. she lets go of his wrist, only to catch the hem of her borrowed shirt, drawing it up higher, as if that gesture-- the sensation of it, the contrast of his skin against hers-- has drawn the weight of her attention. ]

However, it suits me.

[waiting]

[ he's not very good at reading her, even now, and sometimes it's a matter of seeing what he chooses to believe he's seeing. right now, it suits him to think she's joking, if only just a little. he means to respond in kind, but his breath audibly catches when she tugs at the shirt. he ends up sounding more distracted than joking when he answers, like an afterthought. ]

Yeah, it does.

[ his hand curls where it rests against her skin, and he looks far too transparently hopeful when he lifts his head to meet her blank-eyed gaze. ]

Need some help getting some sleep? [ his come-ons haven't improved since they've gotten married. ]

[heartlessglitch]

[ she watches him back for a moment, deciphering the meaning behind that question before she finally reaches for him, looping her arms around his neck and drawing him closer to her. a verbal answer seems unnecessary, and less efficient than just arching onto the balls of her feet and tilting her head to press her mouth against his. ]

[waiting]

[ okay, and this is the part about danger he really appreciates -- how much less complicated everything is, with her. he doesn't have to second-guess the gesture, and he willingly lets himself be pulled down to her so she doesn't have to reach up too far. he sets his hands on her hips, mostly just for the pleasure of feeling them there, and kisses her back. it's a little sweet, and a little dirty, just enough to make his own toes curl against the cold floor. ]