![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
[She supposes she ought to feel a little guilty for getting him to come here tonight. He's surprisingly gone along with everything she's suggested, ranging from ditching their plans to stay in and order pizza so she could come to the carnival and enjoy some terrible fried food. Some corn dogs and beer turn into sharing a funnel cake, which turns into Clara suggesting they go on some of the rides "since they were already there". He even wins her a stuffed bear, which she makes a big deal of and names after him. It's probably easy to tell how much she values the bear, just by the way she holds it and doesn't want to put it down.
She's a reckless daredevil and loves everything they go on, even the roller coaster that he swears isn't bolted in the right way and the ferris wheel that he swears is going to kill him once they reach the top and sit there for a while. She thinks she gets him to relax well enough with some kissing.
But nothing's likely going to be able to get him to relax as she guides him out onto a grassy area that's set up for dancing. The stars are out overhead and a live Journey cover band is playing Faithfully. It's more than a little cliche, but she wants to have this moment with him. So she stubbornly drags him to the dead center of the area and gets him to start dancing with her. It's at about the moment where the song registers with him and she glances up at his face that she knows he realizes that she's just tricked him into spending an entire night out with her.
It's a date.
They've been careful to avoid them, always keeping things physical with conversation and little things like carry out and old movies on TV being their main activities. She's never asked him for more than that, but after a year of always popping up to be with him wherever he goes (and the frequency of her visits starting to come on closer together and for longer stretches of time) she knows for sure now that she wants more. The fact that she feels so much for him and hasn't let herself say any of it yet needs to be addressed too. They've been doing this for long enough that she doesn't shy away from the fact that she thinks she might love him. She just has no idea how to approach that matter with him, especially not in a way that won't have him vanishing for a few months.]
Come on, don't look at me like that.
[She quietly pleads with him. The look on her face strongly resembles a kicked puppy, and it only becomes more dejected when she fears he might pull and run away. ]
You're enjoying yourself, aren't you? It's only a dance.
[But it isn't, not to her. And she's positive that they both know that.]
She's a reckless daredevil and loves everything they go on, even the roller coaster that he swears isn't bolted in the right way and the ferris wheel that he swears is going to kill him once they reach the top and sit there for a while. She thinks she gets him to relax well enough with some kissing.
But nothing's likely going to be able to get him to relax as she guides him out onto a grassy area that's set up for dancing. The stars are out overhead and a live Journey cover band is playing Faithfully. It's more than a little cliche, but she wants to have this moment with him. So she stubbornly drags him to the dead center of the area and gets him to start dancing with her. It's at about the moment where the song registers with him and she glances up at his face that she knows he realizes that she's just tricked him into spending an entire night out with her.
It's a date.
They've been careful to avoid them, always keeping things physical with conversation and little things like carry out and old movies on TV being their main activities. She's never asked him for more than that, but after a year of always popping up to be with him wherever he goes (and the frequency of her visits starting to come on closer together and for longer stretches of time) she knows for sure now that she wants more. The fact that she feels so much for him and hasn't let herself say any of it yet needs to be addressed too. They've been doing this for long enough that she doesn't shy away from the fact that she thinks she might love him. She just has no idea how to approach that matter with him, especially not in a way that won't have him vanishing for a few months.]
Come on, don't look at me like that.
[She quietly pleads with him. The look on her face strongly resembles a kicked puppy, and it only becomes more dejected when she fears he might pull and run away. ]
You're enjoying yourself, aren't you? It's only a dance.
[But it isn't, not to her. And she's positive that they both know that.]
[ When's the last time he's had a night off? And hell, at that, the last time he's cracked a grin and possibly even bellowed out laughter— memories are plagued with nothing but opaque images of those he's lost, a carousel much similar to the one that swirls in the distance behind them, boasting it's fluorescent lights and fading, childish giggles. It's easy to lose himself to it; really, it's easy to lose himself in her: how her mouth carries the taste of cotton candy throughout the night, how he uses it as an excuse to dip in for more; the teddy bear he'd nearly just paid the guy for given the entire system was rigged.
It dawns on him, once she'd gotten him to the top of that ferris wheel that with her, with Clara, he had such little power. She was the fracture in his facade, the ache to own softer hands, rather than those filled with callouses if only to hold her a little gentler- treat her as well as she deserved. It never takes long for him to spiral down that warred mental path, even with the dazing festival colors flaring within those wide hues of hers, staring up at him now as realization hardens across his features.
It was easier, this thing they did, without the titles. Because with titles came expectations, and all the more room for him to disappoint her, and such hope glimmered right there in the way she looked at him, like a plea she's too fearful to voice. He isn't naive enough not to know why. He's a runner. Always has been, and so maybe she's become sick of it. Their ghosting around feelings, meeting up as if it were just for a satiable fuck, nothing else.
It had always been something else. Everything else. Doesn't mean he can let himself have it.
Palms remain at her sides, though the music around them has fallen to a hush at the tumult of panic that envelopes him. There's a furrow of his brow, and it's like a knife lodged right into his chest, the way her tone slips to something melancholy. Longing. ] Clara...
[ It's almost a warning, but he bites his tongue. He doesn't want everything to turn hard, doesn't want to ruin a night that's been too good to him. It couldn't last though, could it? Nothing could. ] If it was just a dance, y'wouldn't have to say so.
It dawns on him, once she'd gotten him to the top of that ferris wheel that with her, with Clara, he had such little power. She was the fracture in his facade, the ache to own softer hands, rather than those filled with callouses if only to hold her a little gentler- treat her as well as she deserved. It never takes long for him to spiral down that warred mental path, even with the dazing festival colors flaring within those wide hues of hers, staring up at him now as realization hardens across his features.
It was easier, this thing they did, without the titles. Because with titles came expectations, and all the more room for him to disappoint her, and such hope glimmered right there in the way she looked at him, like a plea she's too fearful to voice. He isn't naive enough not to know why. He's a runner. Always has been, and so maybe she's become sick of it. Their ghosting around feelings, meeting up as if it were just for a satiable fuck, nothing else.
It had always been something else. Everything else. Doesn't mean he can let himself have it.
Palms remain at her sides, though the music around them has fallen to a hush at the tumult of panic that envelopes him. There's a furrow of his brow, and it's like a knife lodged right into his chest, the way her tone slips to something melancholy. Longing. ] Clara...
[ It's almost a warning, but he bites his tongue. He doesn't want everything to turn hard, doesn't want to ruin a night that's been too good to him. It couldn't last though, could it? Nothing could. ] If it was just a dance, y'wouldn't have to say so.
[Her mouth always has had a habit of running away from her. It seems that this time, she may have started a conversation that she's not ready to take part in. A lump forms in her throat and she swallows it roughly, trying not to look too disappointed. She's gone into this determined not to push him for anything. She's known since the start that he's a broken man, and she's tried to build him up without ever asking for anything from him. His life doesn't let him give hope easily.
But she still wants to give him some anyway.
The fear that he might pull away and leave is incredibly real, and she holds onto him just a little tighter.]
I think it's time we did more than just dance.
[She cautiously tells him, trying to ignore the way her voice trembles. This is unknown territory, dangerous territory. He may not forgive her for diving right in and dragging him along with her. But when you love someone, shouldn't you fight to have them? Shouldn't you want to let them know how you feel? ]
We've been dancing for a year now.
But she still wants to give him some anyway.
The fear that he might pull away and leave is incredibly real, and she holds onto him just a little tighter.]
I think it's time we did more than just dance.
[She cautiously tells him, trying to ignore the way her voice trembles. This is unknown territory, dangerous territory. He may not forgive her for diving right in and dragging him along with her. But when you love someone, shouldn't you fight to have them? Shouldn't you want to let them know how you feel? ]
We've been dancing for a year now.
[ There's a fit at the edge of his jaw, a scan of her features before he's averting gaze past them, catching at the rippling mirror of the lake that bordered a single edge of the carnival. He can't bring himself to be angry with her, mostly because what hits him is that damning highlight of knowing better, knowing that nights like this, women like her... they don't happen for men like him. A hunters life was a lonely life; her accompanying him wouldn't change that. The loneliness. The leaving.
Never quite knowing if he'd come back.
He doesn't want her to see the pain that reflects back, doesn't want her to see how terrified of it all he is: her words, but more, the meaning that lay within them. Dirges followed in his wake, he was nothing good, nothing she should want, but he finds himself craving her all the same. If only he could be that selfish. ] Thought you liked to dance.
[ He tries to humor her. How he wants it to be a threat, wants it to be stern, but it's not. It's weak, the motions of his broad figure holding her own nearly coming to a still. Suddenly the bite in the air is unwelcome, fingers curling into the fabric of her top. And when he looks back up to her, it's all too evident how he's splintering, how there's already that apology waiting on the tip of his tongue- the same one that gives presage to his leave. ] Dragged me out here, after all.
Never quite knowing if he'd come back.
He doesn't want her to see the pain that reflects back, doesn't want her to see how terrified of it all he is: her words, but more, the meaning that lay within them. Dirges followed in his wake, he was nothing good, nothing she should want, but he finds himself craving her all the same. If only he could be that selfish. ] Thought you liked to dance.
[ He tries to humor her. How he wants it to be a threat, wants it to be stern, but it's not. It's weak, the motions of his broad figure holding her own nearly coming to a still. Suddenly the bite in the air is unwelcome, fingers curling into the fabric of her top. And when he looks back up to her, it's all too evident how he's splintering, how there's already that apology waiting on the tip of his tongue- the same one that gives presage to his leave. ] Dragged me out here, after all.
[Their relationship has been made of a lot of dancing, but there's so much more to it too. They talk while they sit in bed or watch the dingy motel tv at night. She knows what foods he likes best and which ones he won't touch. She's been there at night when he has nightmares, and he's listened to her talk excitedly about her life like it's actually fascinating.
They know one another inside and out at this point, all without ever doing more than dancing around the matter that they're already in a relationship.
She guesses they can't go back to dancing and avoiding the subject. Not now that she's impulsively said something. ]
You know there's no one else I'd rather dance with, over and over...
[She goes along with his attempt to humor her, but even she can't escape the chill that's in the air now. Blaming it on their proximity to the water, she pulls herself in a little closer to him as an excuse that she needs him close to stay warm. Even his presence doesn't stop the chill of fear that causes her to shiver up against him.}
But there's more to us than that. And we both know it. Why is it so wrong to put a name to what we have? Not when I -
[She stops herself there, and tips her head to look up at his face for a moment. It's so easy to see that he's on the edge of falling apart, each word either of them say pushing him past the point of comfort.]
Admitting I love you doesn't change anything, does it?
[Except it changes everything, and now there's no turning back. Her voice cracks at the end of her question, dark eyes brimming with tears. She's always been so careful to not ever get emotional around him. There's the start of self-loathing that hates the fact she can't keep it under control here and now.]
They know one another inside and out at this point, all without ever doing more than dancing around the matter that they're already in a relationship.
She guesses they can't go back to dancing and avoiding the subject. Not now that she's impulsively said something. ]
You know there's no one else I'd rather dance with, over and over...
[She goes along with his attempt to humor her, but even she can't escape the chill that's in the air now. Blaming it on their proximity to the water, she pulls herself in a little closer to him as an excuse that she needs him close to stay warm. Even his presence doesn't stop the chill of fear that causes her to shiver up against him.}
But there's more to us than that. And we both know it. Why is it so wrong to put a name to what we have? Not when I -
[She stops herself there, and tips her head to look up at his face for a moment. It's so easy to see that he's on the edge of falling apart, each word either of them say pushing him past the point of comfort.]
Admitting I love you doesn't change anything, does it?
[Except it changes everything, and now there's no turning back. Her voice cracks at the end of her question, dark eyes brimming with tears. She's always been so careful to not ever get emotional around him. There's the start of self-loathing that hates the fact she can't keep it under control here and now.]
No, but I'm sure you're imagining. And you have nothing worth stealing.
[Drama queens. Shoot a guy one time...
But if she has to pick one of the brothers, she does like working Dean up better. He throws the best tantrums.]
[Drama queens. Shoot a guy one time...
But if she has to pick one of the brothers, she does like working Dean up better. He throws the best tantrums.]
You're terrible at this game. I suppose I'll just have to play by myself. So do be sure to knock before you come in.
It means dirty talk is obviously not your forte.
Don't hurt your head. Just go eat another burger or circle the block before coming back.
[Because she'd never cause any trouble by herself...]
Don't hurt your head. Just go eat another burger or circle the block before coming back.
[Because she'd never cause any trouble by herself...]
I am.
[And she's just going to toss the phone onto the bed and finish drinking her wine in the bath she's drawn. Normally, she wouldn't dare sit in a hotel bathtub, but since they're here on stolen credit cards, she did opt for the honeymoon suite. It goes better with their cover story anyway.
Dean no doubt, expects her to be up to something, and she is if for no other reason than to pass the time until they get what they're after. Or rather, she gets what they're after.]
[And she's just going to toss the phone onto the bed and finish drinking her wine in the bath she's drawn. Normally, she wouldn't dare sit in a hotel bathtub, but since they're here on stolen credit cards, she did opt for the honeymoon suite. It goes better with their cover story anyway.
Dean no doubt, expects her to be up to something, and she is if for no other reason than to pass the time until they get what they're after. Or rather, she gets what they're after.]
[ it's pretty difficult for dean to admit that a girl like bela has gotten him a little wound, so he figures, naturally, maybe it's easier not to have to say a word at all. phone is stuffed into his pocket at her reply with a single risen brow, and within a few moments he's back at their room. as usual, he doesn't take care to knock.
he's surprised to find the entry and bedroom rather empty and quiet, though the door to the grand bathroom suite is left ajar. ]
If y'ain't decent, you got five seconds to be.
he's surprised to find the entry and bedroom rather empty and quiet, though the door to the grand bathroom suite is left ajar. ]
If y'ain't decent, you got five seconds to be.
[ Already he can feel himself regressing, can hear the hum of the open road beneath baby's tires as he drives tirelessly on, countless blurs of street signs passing him left and right, off to nowhere in particular. Settling nowhere in particular. There was no such thing as home for a Winchester, a hunter, for him. He'd tried that, and it'd only put the woman and kid he'd loved in danger.
He was nothing but a loaded gun. She had to see that.
But she's pulling herself closer, closer yet and all of a sudden his throat's gone tight, mouth dry as he gives a thick swallow, brows ridden into a tuft as he sighs. There's a dizzying tinge to the tip of his skull— he can't do this, can't talk about this, doesn't want now to be the moment that he loses her... but she knows better than to bring this up.
Than to think he was ever one that could just 'talk about things'.
It's that word. That confession, thick in her throat that leaves green hues flickering up with a sliver of pain. ] You don't... [ It's nearly choked out, desperately torn between lifting his thumbs to graze away the tears welling at her lash line, and pulling from her embrace entirely. Getting the hell out of dodge before this got any worse. ] You don't know what you're saying. I'm not someone you wanna keep around, Clara.
[ A flutter at the edge of his jaw, heat swelling to his cheeks. He's angry. Angry that she's chosen to bring this up on such a light night between them. Angry that he can't provide what she needs. And so maybe she can feel him start to resist, his figure giving the slightest pull backward. ] Maybe I shouldn't of come back, I...
He was nothing but a loaded gun. She had to see that.
But she's pulling herself closer, closer yet and all of a sudden his throat's gone tight, mouth dry as he gives a thick swallow, brows ridden into a tuft as he sighs. There's a dizzying tinge to the tip of his skull— he can't do this, can't talk about this, doesn't want now to be the moment that he loses her... but she knows better than to bring this up.
Than to think he was ever one that could just 'talk about things'.
It's that word. That confession, thick in her throat that leaves green hues flickering up with a sliver of pain. ] You don't... [ It's nearly choked out, desperately torn between lifting his thumbs to graze away the tears welling at her lash line, and pulling from her embrace entirely. Getting the hell out of dodge before this got any worse. ] You don't know what you're saying. I'm not someone you wanna keep around, Clara.
[ A flutter at the edge of his jaw, heat swelling to his cheeks. He's angry. Angry that she's chosen to bring this up on such a light night between them. Angry that he can't provide what she needs. And so maybe she can feel him start to resist, his figure giving the slightest pull backward. ] Maybe I shouldn't of come back, I...
[They've never really fought before, which is a good thing. They're both intensely stubborn and both think they're the ones that are right. With her temper against his, any actual arguments have the potential to be explosive.
She isn't looking for a fight here.
Her hand does hold on tighter to his, not about to let him slip through her fingers so easily.]
I know exactly what I'm saying.
[And she knows that he's scared, but also knows enough to not call him on it. Not here, not when she can see that he's angry with her and that she has to attempt to diffuse the situation.
With her hand holding onto his, she leads him away from the bustle and off to the outskirts of the fairground. There's a large lake here, and it might be a peaceful or romantic setting if it weren't for the fact that whatever relationship they have might be about to crumble to the ground.]
Just because I've admitted something doesn't mean you have to reciprocate. Or do anything about it even if you feel the same way. I've kept you around this long. Nothing's gone wrong yet, has it?
[She takes the expectation that he'll say or feel something away from him, hoping it will put him at ease. He's angry and she's a little too heartfelt and emotional, but she's trying hard to guide them both toward a balance between the two.]
She isn't looking for a fight here.
Her hand does hold on tighter to his, not about to let him slip through her fingers so easily.]
I know exactly what I'm saying.
[And she knows that he's scared, but also knows enough to not call him on it. Not here, not when she can see that he's angry with her and that she has to attempt to diffuse the situation.
With her hand holding onto his, she leads him away from the bustle and off to the outskirts of the fairground. There's a large lake here, and it might be a peaceful or romantic setting if it weren't for the fact that whatever relationship they have might be about to crumble to the ground.]
Just because I've admitted something doesn't mean you have to reciprocate. Or do anything about it even if you feel the same way. I've kept you around this long. Nothing's gone wrong yet, has it?
[She takes the expectation that he'll say or feel something away from him, hoping it will put him at ease. He's angry and she's a little too heartfelt and emotional, but she's trying hard to guide them both toward a balance between the two.]
[ But she doesn't; she can't. She thinks she knows the type of man he is, that he's a stray, but she has no idea of the blood on his hands. The amount of lives he hadn't been able to save. She'd held him through nightmares that'd flickered their lifeless faces back before him within sleep that was so often unkind, but she hadn't seen him when he'd enjoyed it.
When he was a demon, when he held the mark, when he thrived for that bloodshed like a god damn drug. The least of all women to deserve that was her, but she's looking at this with how she feels, not what's right. Not what's realistic, and that's all that's been engraved in him.
Still, he allows her to lead him away from the bustling coos and chatter of the fairground, down toward the rippling reflection of the lake, streetlights few and far between. He wishes he were able to guide his anger elsewhere, that he could transcend whatever it was tangling within his chest into something else, something more productive, something they could work with; but he's a character of dead ends.
He doesn't want them to be one of them. ] No, Clara, nothings happened cause I haven't let it. You shouldn't... shouldn't be hung up on some guy that can't even stick around. That bails out every week without a phone call. [ And rightfully, she could counter in question as to why he couldn't give her that. He just doesn't know how. He doesn't know how to allow something good to linger only to watch it torn from his grasp. ] So, what? You're gonna keep me around even if its not reciprocated? Give your time to me when you could have someone that fuckin' treats you right?
No. I'm not gonna let that happen. I can't let you make that mistake.
When he was a demon, when he held the mark, when he thrived for that bloodshed like a god damn drug. The least of all women to deserve that was her, but she's looking at this with how she feels, not what's right. Not what's realistic, and that's all that's been engraved in him.
Still, he allows her to lead him away from the bustling coos and chatter of the fairground, down toward the rippling reflection of the lake, streetlights few and far between. He wishes he were able to guide his anger elsewhere, that he could transcend whatever it was tangling within his chest into something else, something more productive, something they could work with; but he's a character of dead ends.
He doesn't want them to be one of them. ] No, Clara, nothings happened cause I haven't let it. You shouldn't... shouldn't be hung up on some guy that can't even stick around. That bails out every week without a phone call. [ And rightfully, she could counter in question as to why he couldn't give her that. He just doesn't know how. He doesn't know how to allow something good to linger only to watch it torn from his grasp. ] So, what? You're gonna keep me around even if its not reciprocated? Give your time to me when you could have someone that fuckin' treats you right?
No. I'm not gonna let that happen. I can't let you make that mistake.
[The sound that comes out of her is a dry, bitter laugh. It's choked out, because she can't believe that they know each other so well intimately. They know each others likes and dislikes, and they know the other's personality. But they don't know the intricate little details of the things they've been through. They both work so hard to keep the other away from that part of them.]
It's my mistake to make. The choice is mine, and the time we've spent together has been perfect.
[She flashes him a sad smile, fearing that things are about to end. She worries that she won't see him again after this. But she won't allow this to be a last conversation.]
But you must realize, don't you? That the time we spend together is only in motel rooms. We hide away from reality because we can't cope with what's going on. We can't deal with the things that we do, the events in our lives that frighten us. But fear makes companions out of us all, Dean. There's a reason I come and go as I please, and never question why you do the same. If I wanted a bloody phone call, I would've demanded one out of you!
[Her temper starts to flare, but she bites at her lip to keep it under control. Tears are forming in her eyes, and she loathes that. But she has to press forward. ]
I want to face reality with you. No matter what it brings. You have no idea the things I've done and seen, and what I'm capable of handling. You're so afraid of what it is you feel that you won't even allow me to tell you how I feel or explain what it is I want!
[In an act of desperation, she leans in and presses her lips against his. The kiss that happens is an attempt to get him to understand her feelings. She isn't asking for anything beyond an actual relationship. She doesn't think that it's too much to request after a year's time.]
It's my mistake to make. The choice is mine, and the time we've spent together has been perfect.
[She flashes him a sad smile, fearing that things are about to end. She worries that she won't see him again after this. But she won't allow this to be a last conversation.]
But you must realize, don't you? That the time we spend together is only in motel rooms. We hide away from reality because we can't cope with what's going on. We can't deal with the things that we do, the events in our lives that frighten us. But fear makes companions out of us all, Dean. There's a reason I come and go as I please, and never question why you do the same. If I wanted a bloody phone call, I would've demanded one out of you!
[Her temper starts to flare, but she bites at her lip to keep it under control. Tears are forming in her eyes, and she loathes that. But she has to press forward. ]
I want to face reality with you. No matter what it brings. You have no idea the things I've done and seen, and what I'm capable of handling. You're so afraid of what it is you feel that you won't even allow me to tell you how I feel or explain what it is I want!
[In an act of desperation, she leans in and presses her lips against his. The kiss that happens is an attempt to get him to understand her feelings. She isn't asking for anything beyond an actual relationship. She doesn't think that it's too much to request after a year's time.]
[She sets down the empty wine glass on the side of the tub when she hears the door open, but doesn't bother to scramble out of the water. Even when she hears his warning it prompts an eyeroll rather than panic.]
Or what?
[It's only a slightly muffled question from the other side of the bathroom door that's been left ajar.]
Or what?
[It's only a slightly muffled question from the other side of the bathroom door that's been left ajar.]
[ He really should give more thought to the situations he rashly thrusts himself into, one being how he stalks without pause toward double doors of the bathroom, only to find quite an alluring sight before him. There's a dumbfounded expression that momentarily takes to his features, before he's clearing his throat, attempting to slather his slip with a bit of derisive humor. ]
Nice to see someones taking advantage of our theft.
[ Naturally, it'd be her. ]
Nice to see someones taking advantage of our theft.
[ Naturally, it'd be her. ]
[It's not a slip she misses, but she knows it won't be that easy to lure in Dean Winchester. She's well aware that he doesn't like her, but she still doesn't see why hate-sex can't be a thing. She's always found it quite entertaining. But maybe the chase is part of the appeal and the reason she still even attempts to work with him and his callous attitude-well, that and she might grudgingly admit they're fairly good at what they do.
She settles a little deeper into the bubbles even as one hand stretches and rests over the edge of the tub.]
Is it? Nice to see?
[It's easy to twist Dean's words around a bit to fit the situation at hand.]
Are you going to offer me a towel, or just continue to see?
She settles a little deeper into the bubbles even as one hand stretches and rests over the edge of the tub.]
Is it? Nice to see?
[It's easy to twist Dean's words around a bit to fit the situation at hand.]
Are you going to offer me a towel, or just continue to see?
[ It's frustrating, how easily she's always managed to fluster him, and it sure as hell didn't help that he's the littlest bit tempted by the sight of her soaking in rather luxurious looking bubbles. Bela has never been a girl he'd entirely ticked off his radar, just... you know, pride and all of that. Manipulative and a total bitch, sure, but that didn't change the facts. An attractive woman was an attractive woman.
Tongue presses at the inner of his fuller lip, trying to muster up what bit of a bothered expression he can; yet he's still there. ]
What do I look like, a fricken' butler?
Tongue presses at the inner of his fuller lip, trying to muster up what bit of a bothered expression he can; yet he's still there. ]
What do I look like, a fricken' butler?
No, more like the gardener.
[She sighs before shrugging slightly, as if she's given up on getting Dean to do anything for her. But she knew better when she first asked. But it makes it easier to blame what she's about to do on his stubbornness.
She pushes her self up in the tub and lingers where she's at long enough for the clinging bubbles to start shifting downward. Soon enough their won't be anything left to hide any of her nudity.
She reaches a hand out toward the towel rack.]
Really, now. Unless you want me to make a wet mess of the floor.
[She sighs before shrugging slightly, as if she's given up on getting Dean to do anything for her. But she knew better when she first asked. But it makes it easier to blame what she's about to do on his stubbornness.
She pushes her self up in the tub and lingers where she's at long enough for the clinging bubbles to start shifting downward. Soon enough their won't be anything left to hide any of her nudity.
She reaches a hand out toward the towel rack.]
Really, now. Unless you want me to make a wet mess of the floor.
[The video Cathy sends was...well. Not intended for Dean specifically. In fact she's not really sure who this is going to beyond "someone who is not a contact in her list." She and her friends are playing a game in which they send risque content to a phone number that has been randomized, and to see what happens. So enjoy the video, Dean.]
had fun at the club tonight but I didn't feel like taking any of these guys home.
so I'm texting you to see if you can entertain me better than them
had fun at the club tonight but I didn't feel like taking any of these guys home.
so I'm texting you to see if you can entertain me better than them
( honestly, the last thing he expects to see is anything the least bit welcoming when he opens those attachments, considered on just deleting the message entirely. there was no telling who'd gotten ahold of his number, and with how rarely it was willingly given, it usually didn't mean too good of company to see a ping of unknown numbers flag at the top of his screen.
needless to say, when he does open it, it's only the gentle buzz of the device in his palm that startles him back to a clear mind. well, as clear as it can be with something like that to fawn over. )
Uh, think you got the wrong number kid
needless to say, when he does open it, it's only the gentle buzz of the device in his palm that startles him back to a clear mind. well, as clear as it can be with something like that to fawn over. )
Uh, think you got the wrong number kid
Page 1 of 4