[ trust isn't something he can hand off easily these days, or on any days, since betrayal of trust has so often been a lasting factor in his history, since nearly three decades under jaeger's care only to find out every word from his pseudo-father had been an outright lie to keep him trapped under his grip. he'd learn better on how to read people then, to not let wishful thinking and optimism of hope get the best of him.
the fact that marta can't lie has nothing to do with it, instead relying on the close proximity they've so often crawled into these weeks, of long hours in a shared space, of memorizing smaller habits because it more easily passes the days and makes for an easier story to sell when they're putting up a front to the rest of the town. it was a partnership born out of convenience but lately, the line's been blurred with the actual reliability he's found with her. ]
Face like this — you can only improve it.
[ he wears the smirk even as she rounds to standing behind him where she can't see it, the expression laced in his words before he feels the stroke of her fingers slide through his hair to test what she's working with, coaxing him to relax, like an impromptu massage he hadn't bargained for.
when he hears the almost immediate snip, he raises his brow but remains still. ] You act fast.
I have to, if I want to beat the second-guessing. [ not that that happens much. not that he should feel worried about it. once she finds her rhythm, her hands move with the same sort of quiet assuredness that they do were they treating him for another laceration. and just like with that, they fall into a familiar, easy silence where she works and he waits.
after some time she's moved to his side, lowering herself down so she's level with his face to ensure her cuts remain even. eventually her eyes fall to the bright pink bag tucked beneath the desk, beside his foot. glaring in how out of place it is. (to be fair it usually is, but it's only more so since they've arrived in scorpion's bend.)
she gestures towards it with her chin. ]
It would be convenient if you carried around a razor in there. Otherwise we may have to move this to your room.
[ talking between them has become an easy habit, but in the same breath, so has the silence. even with no words spoken, when it's just the soft, subtle movements of her steps as she shifts the angles of her cuts to his hair and the steady inhales and exhales of their breathing, it doesn't feel out of place, and he often finds he could linger in it with her, like there's an understanding when speech isn't needed.
strangely enough, sitting there steady as she works, similar to the relationship of their actions when she's stitching up a wound, there's something almost serene to it.
when she does break the silence, he lifts his eyes to her before following the gesture of her chin down to the floor where his bag rests without bother. ]
You know, if you want to go to my room so bad, you don't need to use an excuse.
[ a joke, of course, always evident with the subtle upward tilt of his smirk and the way he doesn't linger too long on it. ]
Got a knife if you're comfortable enough using it.
[ he looks so proud of himself for that comment that it feels like her usual roll of her eyes isn't quite enough to fully convey her exasperation, so it's convenient she's got a fistful of hair she can give a nice, firm tug to, forcing his head to tip back for no other reason than to show that she can. that she's still the one with the most control here. funny how so often the ease between them is simply a matter of seeking a balance. ]
[ sometimes he could see it in her face, the way she responds to his comments without actually responding, not in any sort of expression that's obvious, but he underestimates her privilege of power in the current situation as she gives his hair that tug that draws him back without him prepared to counter it — not that he's sure he would have even if he'd been anticipating the move.
a slightly breathless chuckle escapes low in his throat, a subconscious swipe of his tongue brushing across his lip. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
the fact that marta can't lie has nothing to do with it, instead relying on the close proximity they've so often crawled into these weeks, of long hours in a shared space, of memorizing smaller habits because it more easily passes the days and makes for an easier story to sell when they're putting up a front to the rest of the town. it was a partnership born out of convenience but lately, the line's been blurred with the actual reliability he's found with her. ]
Face like this — you can only improve it.
[ he wears the smirk even as she rounds to standing behind him where she can't see it, the expression laced in his words before he feels the stroke of her fingers slide through his hair to test what she's working with, coaxing him to relax, like an impromptu massage he hadn't bargained for.
when he hears the almost immediate snip, he raises his brow but remains still. ] You act fast.
no subject
after some time she's moved to his side, lowering herself down so she's level with his face to ensure her cuts remain even. eventually her eyes fall to the bright pink bag tucked beneath the desk, beside his foot. glaring in how out of place it is. (to be fair it usually is, but it's only more so since they've arrived in scorpion's bend.)
she gestures towards it with her chin. ]
It would be convenient if you carried around a razor in there. Otherwise we may have to move this to your room.
no subject
strangely enough, sitting there steady as she works, similar to the relationship of their actions when she's stitching up a wound, there's something almost serene to it.
when she does break the silence, he lifts his eyes to her before following the gesture of her chin down to the floor where his bag rests without bother. ]
You know, if you want to go to my room so bad, you don't need to use an excuse.
[ a joke, of course, always evident with the subtle upward tilt of his smirk and the way he doesn't linger too long on it. ]
Got a knife if you're comfortable enough using it.
no subject
A knife works. What's the worst that can happen?
no subject
a slightly breathless chuckle escapes low in his throat, a subconscious swipe of his tongue brushing across his lip. ]
Yeah, you seem plenty gentle. I'd hardly worry.