[ he wouldn't imagine himself as good for anybody, not in any way that's healthy, since most things with him tend to come with a brand of trouble attached, like a magnet for danger no matter what body he finds himself in. but despite his acknowledgement that she should stay away from him, he also feels inclined to want her close, to hope she finds reason to stick around him, and she does.
she gives him something to keep his thoughts on, someone to give him genuine reasons to smile especially with as little as he does it, and despite how different they are, he feels like there's more that connects them than doesn't, like for all that he's missing, she fills up the gaps.
with the lean of her head on his shoulder, he turns his head to look at her resting there, quiet for the moment that he simply watches her, a slight smile in the corner of his lips before he tilts his own head gently against hers, eyes turning to peer out to the snow in front of their as their hands entwine together in a warm laced hold. ]
Not what most people say about me. [ but he's not going to correct her, if only because he really wants it to be true. wants to believe he can be good for somebody. and if he could somehow keep her safe, then maybe that gives him a chance to be just that.
so finally, he adds, ] But I'll stick around, as long as you want me to.
[She picks up on the fact that he doesn't correct her. And she isn't sure if it's because he desperately wants to believe it, or if he doesn't want to discount the way she feels. Saying something right after that feels like it cheapens the sentiment he's just put out in the open, so she allows things to slip into a comfortable silence for a while.
She watches the snow and tries to imagine a normal life together where they could go to the park and do something mundane like this. It wouldn't suit either of them, she quickly decides. They both deserve a happy life, but neither of them would be content just being idle. Even if that's exactly what's so nice about being here with him now.
They don't have to do anything. No words are needed. It's companionship at its most basic form. ]
Daisy's coming over for a bit tonight.
[She eventually speaks up, lifting her head off his shoulder. As warm as he is and as close as they're sitting, she's starting to get a bit of a chill just being still.]
Want me to come find you after we're done drinking and gossiping?
[ that's probably the strangest thing about all of this — the silence. it isn't often that he could have moments like this with another person; usually, when it's silent, it's only him there, left along to his own thoughts, left vulnerable and open for the ghosts to appear at any time. but being with her, there's an appreciation for the silence, for the stillness of it, especially with the present falling snow, like he could live in a peace for a moment, however brief it may end up being.
and eventually, she does lift her head, prompting him to lift his own as he looks at her while she tells him of her intentions for the night. he lifts a brow, all too curiously, ]
Gossiping? Don't tell me you're gonna bring me up in the conversation.
[ then again, daisy had already asked him about them, so it's more than likely that she'll end up asking clara about it one-on-one. he sighs, at least relieved he could dodge the league of questions. ]
But yeah. Doubt I'll sleep early, so — yeah, I'll be around, if you're looking to find me.
[That first part earns an eyebrow waggle and a coy grin. Oh, she knows for a fact that Daisy will be asking about him. It isn't a matter of if, just when it'll happen.
As she moves to stand up, she steps over and wedges her way to stand between his legs. One of her hands rests against his shoulder, stabilizing her as she leans in to press a kiss to his forehead.]
I'll be sure to let you know everything she says about your roommate later tonight.
[She can't help but grin in a conspiratorial sort of way, like he's actually eager to hear anything about it. A peck to his lips seals the deal. He's bound to listen to all of it now, no takesie backsies.]
[ when she stands, shifting her way to stand before his legs, he parts his knees almost on reflex, getting her the room to settle in between them as his hands go to her waist, eyes briefly closing as she presses her lips soft against his forehead, soothing for as short as the gesture is.
he blinks his eyes open again with her comment, nose scrunching with a squint as he peers up at her with a quizzed look. ]
Who says I wanna know anything about—?
[ but she shuts him up with a kiss, lips pursing a bit as a result, even if his squinted stare lingers for another beat before finally softening, like he's defeated, thumbs rubbing absentmindedly at her hips. ]
Just ... don't talk about me so much.
[ it's not necessarily a serious ask, and not even a real concern. he knows clara's probably not going to say anything too personal about him, and he's not even against her bringing him up in conversation; when it comes to being a topic of conversation, he's plenty used to being talked about. is he just awkward about the kind of context she might talk about him in? possibly. ]
[She questions him with a laugh, giving a light shake of her head. There's a slight shift as she slips out from between his legs, holding her good hand out to him. It's a silent invitation to get up and walk with her for a bit. ]
Sorry, it's just...I'm not used to hearing men say they don't want to be talked about.
[Which probably goes to show his ego isn't the same as men she's used to dealing with. Or men from Earth, at least.]
[ he stares at her offered hand like he's debating it, though there's never much of a question as to whether or not he'd go on to accept it, even if he sighs first, giving the faux impression like it's somehow a chore. but the way he easily takes her fingers again, like he's grown accustomed to fitting them together, says otherwise.
rising to his feet, he begins to take careful steps, bearing in mind their difference in height, keeping long legs in rhythm with hers. ]
Well, usually when I'm talked about it, it comes with a certain reputation attached. [ the not-good kind. ] I'm not typically the kind of guy people carry warm-hearted stories about.
Hmmm. [She makes a sound that's far too playful to come across as her actually having to think something over.] It must be your determination to make everyone think you're a real jerk.
[She gives their arms a little swing as they walk, enjoying the way the snow crunches beneath their feet. She could spend hours out here with him. It's almost like an escape away from the rest of the station that they can explore hand in hand.]
If it makes you feel any better, I don't plan on bringing you up. Your reputation and bad boy image will be well-preserved.
[Like that actually matters to him. Or maybe it does, when it comes to other people here.]
Yeah, would really hate to spread the false word that I'm a nice guy or something.
[ even if he has absolutely no problem with being nice to certain people, particularly to her. because even a little arm swing feels a bit out of his realm, but he can feel the ease of it from her, and if there's something to make her feel more comfortable, he's not going to complain much.
besides, the walk itself is nice, and even if they're still well deep in the heart of the station, the change in scenery does feel like they could have stepped away to a different world, even for just a little while, which definitely beats the cabin fever of being trapped on here. a part of him wishes her could do just that, leave his place, with her hand in his, taking her someplace where the snow is real and there's a wider world to explore.
he knows she can't, that if she leaves here, she'll die, and he can't leave until he makes sure she survives. and when she does survive — he knows he won't be able to take her anywhere.
brushing away the thought, he absentmindedly squeezes her hand tighter but doesn't draw attention to it, looking ahead. ]
This party — I don't ... have to dress up or do anything weird, do I? [ considering the doctors are involved, he'd imagine that's usually the case. ] Just show up and I'm good?
Dress up? [Clara cautiously questions, pulling her hand free from his so she can slip away just far enough to start gathering up some snow in her hand. Her mind goes to an actual costume at first, and blames all the times she's had to use the Tardis wardrobe to dress up for various outings.
But this is different, and she realizes after a moment what he's asking.]
No, you don't have to wear anything in particular. [She's still gathering up the snow in her hand. Almost like she's going to make it into a snowball or something.]
Just show up however you like. You could even be covered in ice and snow and it'd be good.
[And about two seconds after that, she lets her snowball fly. She's sadly short enough it probably only hits him on the chest. She wants him not to stress over the party, to just enjoy things that come along with winter and the celebrations it can bring. Christmas is something she enjoys, but it isn't something she wants to force upon him. Throwing balls of snow at one another, though?
She's definitely on board with giving that a try. ]
[ when she suddenly pulls her hand free, he watches her curiously, brow raised as she suddenly starts lingering around the snow, having expected he was just going to walk her back over to her place without any kind of detour. the curiosity peaks when he sees her working to gather the snow itself, remaining where he is, even if he's watching her carefully to see what she's up to.
a moment later, the snowball comes flying at him, splat against his chest, his eyes peering down to catch sight of it at the last split second. it's not a hard hit, nothing he'd have to have dodged for, but he still looks back up to her slowly like she just triggered a challenge. ]
You're right. I could do that.
[ he squats down, almost casually as he pools up a bit of snow into his palm, giving it a squeeze to tighten it further. ]
But if I do — gonna insist you dress to match — [ because he's then swinging his arm, pelting that snowball right towards her. ]
[She's expecting him to throw a snowball at her. But she's somehow still surprised when he actually throws it. There's a moment where her face clearly reads oh shit before she tries ducking. But his snowball manages to hit her right on top of her head. It doesn't hurt in the slightest, but she still gasps as snow piles on top of her head and splatters down into her face.
A few seconds later, the pile on top of her head slides off completely, dropping down to her dress.]
Oh, you think you're so funny. [She's laughing, trying her best to sound put out by his retaliation.]
Do that again, and you'll be sorry!
[She's already scurrying off into the snow like a laughing gremlin to gather up another handful.]
[ when he aims for her, he's cautious enough to at least try to avoid hitting her arm; the snow wouldn't be that hard, but tightened into a ball as it is, it's not gonna fell pleasant when it hits her either, and he's at least going to make sure he doesn't do any actual damage.
getting a straight hit right on her head doesn't count as damage in this case, not when he earns that surprised reaction, watching her gasp as the bits of snow trail down onto her nose.
in a state of his own surprise, mostly in the humor of the sight, he laughs, an unfiltered but light ha! leaving his mouth in a way that rarely happens, bringing up the back of his hand against his mouth to try to stifle it. ]
Got a real kick for threats there, Oswald. Trembling in my boots over here.
[ as he watches her get to gathering more snow, he does a quick step behind the nearest tree before he settles his hand to the ground to tighten a bit more of his own. ]
[She wishes she could've frozen that moment in time, with his smiling and brief laughter. She has to commit the sight to memory, because this is war. One she fully intends on at least attempting to win.
She tries to use her lack of height to her advantage, dropping down to her knees to roll a ball of snow into her hand. It's a little difficult to do one handed, but she's not a quitter when there's bragging rights involved. ]
Oh, like you're that threatening?
[She calls out as a retort, sending her snowball flying. It hits the tree he's behind and she has no problem huffing out a frustrated fuck before ducking down to ball up more snow.]
[ he manages to snicker again, quieter to himself this time, as he lingers defensively behind the tree, hearing he utter a surprising swear. snowballs or otherwise, kovacs has the experience in war tactics, particularly in getting cover when under enemy fire.
it's a real shame that clara leaves herself so open. ]
Don't need to be. I just go straight for the attack.
[ like turning his heel out from behind the tree so he can give another hefty swing of his arm to toss an even tighter ball, but still rather soft and wet as he aims for her face again. ]
[She's hit right in the face this time. It doesn't hurt at all, but she does have her mouth open to say something right when snow impacts her face. Plenty gets inside her mouth and she has to sputter to get it all out. With a huff, she wipes the rest of the snow off her face.
She's almost dazed by it for a moment after, a slight chill from the cold making her shiver from head to toe. The look on her face after that speaks volumes to the fact that she is tiny and enraged and looking for revenge.
About two seconds later, she gives up throwing snowballs to charge at him full speed. Yeah, she's fully intending on just leaping on him in an attempt to knock him down into the snow.]
[ maybe it's cruel to go full on violence with the pelting snowballs but kovacs has never been very forgiving when it comes to being provoked, especially if someone's in the mood to mess around with him, even if it is clara, half his size with an arm injury she should probably be going easy on.
as soon as he gets another hit in, he smirks at the victory when he sees she's just trying to blow and wipe snow off her face. he won't purposely try to get her again while he's dazed but he is at least going to prep himself another ball in case of her counter-defense.
what he doesn't expect is that her defense is to charge right at him, his brow squinting in surprise that she'd even attempt it. when she closes in and jumps at his body, his arm is ready to wrap around her to keep her from suddenly falling at her reckless attack, considering he's typically well sturdy to bear it —
but what he doesn't take into account in the moment is the slippery ground beneath him with the snow, her sudden charge at him making his feet shift, the bottom of his boots getting trapped on a patch of ice. he stumbles back suddenly, his arm around her gripping tight as he falls backwards, slamming against the snow on his back with a sharp — ] — ah, fuck!
[She's half expecting to just run into him and bounce back into the snow. It's a price she's willing to pay to say she charged right on in with a full bodied attack. What she isn't expecting and probably should have, is for him to slip.
It's when his arm is around her and they're both falling that she realizes this was a very bad idea. She gasps in alarm, pressing her hand against his shoulder. The second he hits the ground it feels like the wind is knocked out of her. He's softened the blow, but it takes a few seconds to recover. When she does, she lifts her head to look down at him, very quietly and carefully studying his face to try and figure out if this is a laughing sort of thing or if she should apologize.]
Is your head alright?
[That's the most important thing. Making sure her recklessness hasn't hurt him any.]
[ falling on his ass isn't necessarily anything new, even if falling on something freezing cold is probably a newer experience, with his coat at least keeping him from feeling so much of that chill rush through his spine. he groans a little, more instinctive from the sudden fall, but aside from a few minor aches, it'd been a soft enough landing.
squinting an eye open, he sees her hovering above him, looking him and so he closes his eyes again, head dropping back against the snow. ]
Pretty sure I got a concussion. [ he squints an eye open again, humming as he mimics the act of trying very hard to focus on her. ] Yup, I'm seeing about ... ten Claras. Fucking terrifying.
[ he's fine and, yes, still an asshole, lips quirking into a playful smirk. ]
[Definitely still an asshole. She finds herself laughing even as she rolls her eyes, scooting and leaning in as if she might kiss it all better for him. She hovers there for a moment, her nose brushing against his. But instead of landing the kiss she scoops up some snow.]
Oh, poor baby. Here, let me take care of that.
[You need ice for a concussion, she's sure. Or ice for the bump on the back of the head, it doesn't really matter. Either way she's smirking like crazy as she pulls back, letting some of the snow just plop down onto his face.
Let's see how much he likes cold crap hitting his face.]
[ as soon as he gets his focus straight again, he's keen to try to check on her, even if the weight of her across his body, slammed on in the midst of the fall, is enough indication that she hadn't had as rough of a landing as he had. but she's laughing before he can even check, her face leaning down into him.
somehow he can already tell the mischief in her voice, in the suggestion of that poor baby, and for a moment, he's tempted to kiss her anyway, before she can follow through —
but she's quick, freezing cold snow smashed into his face, an instant chill racing over his cheeks. laying down like he is, rather than sliding off his skin, the pieces linger as he groans through his laughter. ]
Oh, yeah, you — you took care of that real nice. Fuck. [ not that he's inclined to accept her victory, especially as he brings his hand up to the back of her neck, holding her where she is so he can lean up and rub his chilled, snow-coated cheeks against hers in retaliation. ]
[She squirms a bit, but doesn't put up too much of a fight. That's a regret as his cheeks are rubbed against hers and she gives out a little shriek of dismay. There's laughter mixed in with it, and then she squirms in earnest. Which, of course, only serves to rub her cheeks more firmly against his.
She's broken down in a fit of giggles after that, which makes giving a quick peck to his lips almost impossible. She bumps their noses together on her first two attempts, but manages to land a kiss on the third.]
You're so desperate to get in the last word!
[It's dramatic and accusatory, but still said through laughter. ]
[ he knows that she won't end up putting much of a fight against this, especially when he hears the bubbling laughter as he rubs cold cheeks to her, the contact of skin on skin instantly melting those tiny remnants of snow so it's just wet and chilled between them.
eventually, he reels back, catching his own breath as his cheeks are reddened, damped on their surface and he just peers up at her with a satisfied grin of victory, humming his own laugh when she kisses him. ]
No, I'm just very good at winning.
[ though, considering he's on his back, it's hard to say that it's a full win. but with the content look on his face, palms finally smoothing over her back in a lazier up-and-down pattern, he hardly seems to mind. ]
[She just lays there for a moment, catching her breath. All that laughter was making her sides ache and her stomach twist in knots. But it passes and she's soothed by his hands on her back, and eventually her breathing regulates.]
Yeah, well... [She tries to find something to grumble about or threaten there, but she lets him have this victory. There's another kiss before she moves to sit up, rolling off of him and into the snow. She huffs as she moves to get up, and offers him a hand in getting up to his feet.]
You're lucky I'm good at losing every once in a while.
[ normally, he wouldn't need the aid to get back up on his feet, but since she's offering (and should probably take some precaution with the slippery surface of the ground, even if he's not sure she has enough weight to propel him up), he takes her hand anyway, chilly in the contact, and tries to steady his boots down to use more of his own strength and less of hers to rise up to stand. ]
Really? No whining or — pouting or anything like that?
[ he's very much teasing, a bit of a subtle smile on his face as he stands in front of her, fingers coming up to her cheeks so he can wipes them down a bit better, bringing up the end of his sleeve so he can wipe the wet spots and help to warm her back up. ]
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she gives him something to keep his thoughts on, someone to give him genuine reasons to smile especially with as little as he does it, and despite how different they are, he feels like there's more that connects them than doesn't, like for all that he's missing, she fills up the gaps.
with the lean of her head on his shoulder, he turns his head to look at her resting there, quiet for the moment that he simply watches her, a slight smile in the corner of his lips before he tilts his own head gently against hers, eyes turning to peer out to the snow in front of their as their hands entwine together in a warm laced hold. ]
Not what most people say about me. [ but he's not going to correct her, if only because he really wants it to be true. wants to believe he can be good for somebody. and if he could somehow keep her safe, then maybe that gives him a chance to be just that.
so finally, he adds, ] But I'll stick around, as long as you want me to.
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She watches the snow and tries to imagine a normal life together where they could go to the park and do something mundane like this. It wouldn't suit either of them, she quickly decides. They both deserve a happy life, but neither of them would be content just being idle. Even if that's exactly what's so nice about being here with him now.
They don't have to do anything. No words are needed. It's companionship at its most basic form. ]
Daisy's coming over for a bit tonight.
[She eventually speaks up, lifting her head off his shoulder. As warm as he is and as close as they're sitting, she's starting to get a bit of a chill just being still.]
Want me to come find you after we're done drinking and gossiping?
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and eventually, she does lift her head, prompting him to lift his own as he looks at her while she tells him of her intentions for the night. he lifts a brow, all too curiously, ]
Gossiping? Don't tell me you're gonna bring me up in the conversation.
[ then again, daisy had already asked him about them, so it's more than likely that she'll end up asking clara about it one-on-one. he sighs, at least relieved he could dodge the league of questions. ]
But yeah. Doubt I'll sleep early, so — yeah, I'll be around, if you're looking to find me.
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As she moves to stand up, she steps over and wedges her way to stand between his legs. One of her hands rests against his shoulder, stabilizing her as she leans in to press a kiss to his forehead.]
I'll be sure to let you know everything she says about your roommate later tonight.
[She can't help but grin in a conspiratorial sort of way, like he's actually eager to hear anything about it. A peck to his lips seals the deal. He's bound to listen to all of it now, no takesie backsies.]
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he blinks his eyes open again with her comment, nose scrunching with a squint as he peers up at her with a quizzed look. ]
Who says I wanna know anything about—?
[ but she shuts him up with a kiss, lips pursing a bit as a result, even if his squinted stare lingers for another beat before finally softening, like he's defeated, thumbs rubbing absentmindedly at her hips. ]
Just ... don't talk about me so much.
[ it's not necessarily a serious ask, and not even a real concern. he knows clara's probably not going to say anything too personal about him, and he's not even against her bringing him up in conversation; when it comes to being a topic of conversation, he's plenty used to being talked about. is he just awkward about the kind of context she might talk about him in? possibly. ]
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[She questions him with a laugh, giving a light shake of her head.
There's a slight shift as she slips out from between his legs, holding her good hand out to him. It's a silent invitation to get up and walk with her for a bit. ]
Sorry, it's just...I'm not used to hearing men say they don't want to be talked about.
[Which probably goes to show his ego isn't the same as men she's used to dealing with. Or men from Earth, at least.]
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rising to his feet, he begins to take careful steps, bearing in mind their difference in height, keeping long legs in rhythm with hers. ]
Well, usually when I'm talked about it, it comes with a certain reputation attached. [ the not-good kind. ] I'm not typically the kind of guy people carry warm-hearted stories about.
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[She gives their arms a little swing as they walk, enjoying the way the snow crunches beneath their feet. She could spend hours out here with him. It's almost like an escape away from the rest of the station that they can explore hand in hand.]
If it makes you feel any better, I don't plan on bringing you up. Your reputation and bad boy image will be well-preserved.
[Like that actually matters to him. Or maybe it does, when it comes to other people here.]
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[ even if he has absolutely no problem with being nice to certain people, particularly to her. because even a little arm swing feels a bit out of his realm, but he can feel the ease of it from her, and if there's something to make her feel more comfortable, he's not going to complain much.
besides, the walk itself is nice, and even if they're still well deep in the heart of the station, the change in scenery does feel like they could have stepped away to a different world, even for just a little while, which definitely beats the cabin fever of being trapped on here. a part of him wishes her could do just that, leave his place, with her hand in his, taking her someplace where the snow is real and there's a wider world to explore.
he knows she can't, that if she leaves here, she'll die, and he can't leave until he makes sure she survives. and when she does survive — he knows he won't be able to take her anywhere.
brushing away the thought, he absentmindedly squeezes her hand tighter but doesn't draw attention to it, looking ahead. ]
This party — I don't ... have to dress up or do anything weird, do I? [ considering the doctors are involved, he'd imagine that's usually the case. ] Just show up and I'm good?
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Her mind goes to an actual costume at first, and blames all the times she's had to use the Tardis wardrobe to dress up for various outings.
But this is different, and she realizes after a moment what he's asking.]
No, you don't have to wear anything in particular. [She's still gathering up the snow in her hand. Almost like she's going to make it into a snowball or something.]
Just show up however you like. You could even be covered in ice and snow and it'd be good.
[And about two seconds after that, she lets her snowball fly. She's sadly short enough it probably only hits him on the chest. She wants him not to stress over the party, to just enjoy things that come along with winter and the celebrations it can bring. Christmas is something she enjoys, but it isn't something she wants to force upon him. Throwing balls of snow at one another, though?
She's definitely on board with giving that a try. ]
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a moment later, the snowball comes flying at him, splat against his chest, his eyes peering down to catch sight of it at the last split second. it's not a hard hit, nothing he'd have to have dodged for, but he still looks back up to her slowly like she just triggered a challenge. ]
You're right. I could do that.
[ he squats down, almost casually as he pools up a bit of snow into his palm, giving it a squeeze to tighten it further. ]
But if I do — gonna insist you dress to match — [ because he's then swinging his arm, pelting that snowball right towards her. ]
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A few seconds later, the pile on top of her head slides off completely, dropping down to her dress.]
Oh, you think you're so funny. [She's laughing, trying her best to sound put out by his retaliation.]
Do that again, and you'll be sorry!
[She's already scurrying off into the snow like a laughing gremlin to gather up another handful.]
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getting a straight hit right on her head doesn't count as damage in this case, not when he earns that surprised reaction, watching her gasp as the bits of snow trail down onto her nose.
in a state of his own surprise, mostly in the humor of the sight, he laughs, an unfiltered but light ha! leaving his mouth in a way that rarely happens, bringing up the back of his hand against his mouth to try to stifle it. ]
Got a real kick for threats there, Oswald. Trembling in my boots over here.
[ as he watches her get to gathering more snow, he does a quick step behind the nearest tree before he settles his hand to the ground to tighten a bit more of his own. ]
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She tries to use her lack of height to her advantage, dropping down to her knees to roll a ball of snow into her hand. It's a little difficult to do one handed, but she's not a quitter when there's bragging rights involved. ]
Oh, like you're that threatening?
[She calls out as a retort, sending her snowball flying. It hits the tree he's behind and she has no problem huffing out a frustrated fuck before ducking down to ball up more snow.]
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it's a real shame that clara leaves herself so open. ]
Don't need to be. I just go straight for the attack.
[ like turning his heel out from behind the tree so he can give another hefty swing of his arm to toss an even tighter ball, but still rather soft and wet as he aims for her face again. ]
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She's almost dazed by it for a moment after, a slight chill from the cold making her shiver from head to toe. The look on her face after that speaks volumes to the fact that she is tiny and enraged and looking for revenge.
About two seconds later, she gives up throwing snowballs to charge at him full speed. Yeah, she's fully intending on just leaping on him in an attempt to knock him down into the snow.]
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as soon as he gets another hit in, he smirks at the victory when he sees she's just trying to blow and wipe snow off her face. he won't purposely try to get her again while he's dazed but he is at least going to prep himself another ball in case of her counter-defense.
what he doesn't expect is that her defense is to charge right at him, his brow squinting in surprise that she'd even attempt it. when she closes in and jumps at his body, his arm is ready to wrap around her to keep her from suddenly falling at her reckless attack, considering he's typically well sturdy to bear it —
but what he doesn't take into account in the moment is the slippery ground beneath him with the snow, her sudden charge at him making his feet shift, the bottom of his boots getting trapped on a patch of ice. he stumbles back suddenly, his arm around her gripping tight as he falls backwards, slamming against the snow on his back with a sharp — ] — ah, fuck!
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It's when his arm is around her and they're both falling that she realizes this was a very bad idea. She gasps in alarm, pressing her hand against his shoulder. The second he hits the ground it feels like the wind is knocked out of her. He's softened the blow, but it takes a few seconds to recover. When she does, she lifts her head to look down at him, very quietly and carefully studying his face to try and figure out if this is a laughing sort of thing or if she should apologize.]
Is your head alright?
[That's the most important thing. Making sure her recklessness hasn't hurt him any.]
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squinting an eye open, he sees her hovering above him, looking him and so he closes his eyes again, head dropping back against the snow. ]
Pretty sure I got a concussion. [ he squints an eye open again, humming as he mimics the act of trying very hard to focus on her. ] Yup, I'm seeing about ... ten Claras. Fucking terrifying.
[ he's fine and, yes, still an asshole, lips quirking into a playful smirk. ]
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Oh, poor baby. Here, let me take care of that.
[You need ice for a concussion, she's sure. Or ice for the bump on the back of the head, it doesn't really matter. Either way she's smirking like crazy as she pulls back, letting some of the snow just plop down onto his face.
Let's see how much he likes cold crap hitting his face.]
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somehow he can already tell the mischief in her voice, in the suggestion of that poor baby, and for a moment, he's tempted to kiss her anyway, before she can follow through —
but she's quick, freezing cold snow smashed into his face, an instant chill racing over his cheeks. laying down like he is, rather than sliding off his skin, the pieces linger as he groans through his laughter. ]
Oh, yeah, you — you took care of that real nice. Fuck. [ not that he's inclined to accept her victory, especially as he brings his hand up to the back of her neck, holding her where she is so he can lean up and rub his chilled, snow-coated cheeks against hers in retaliation. ]
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She's broken down in a fit of giggles after that, which makes giving a quick peck to his lips almost impossible. She bumps their noses together on her first two attempts, but manages to land a kiss on the third.]
You're so desperate to get in the last word!
[It's dramatic and accusatory, but still said through laughter. ]
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eventually, he reels back, catching his own breath as his cheeks are reddened, damped on their surface and he just peers up at her with a satisfied grin of victory, humming his own laugh when she kisses him. ]
No, I'm just very good at winning.
[ though, considering he's on his back, it's hard to say that it's a full win. but with the content look on his face, palms finally smoothing over her back in a lazier up-and-down pattern, he hardly seems to mind. ]
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Yeah, well... [She tries to find something to grumble about or threaten there, but she lets him have this victory. There's another kiss before she moves to sit up, rolling off of him and into the snow. She huffs as she moves to get up, and offers him a hand in getting up to his feet.]
You're lucky I'm good at losing every once in a while.
[That's a lie. She's a terrible loser.]
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Really? No whining or — pouting or anything like that?
[ he's very much teasing, a bit of a subtle smile on his face as he stands in front of her, fingers coming up to her cheeks so he can wipes them down a bit better, bringing up the end of his sleeve so he can wipe the wet spots and help to warm her back up. ]
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