[ 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. ]
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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.