InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "HIS LITTLE BLONDIIIEEE"

Chris Morgan (sensing) wrote in haunted_roads,
@ 2008-05-31 22:26:00

Current mood:	cold
Entry tags:	chris, hesper

Week Eight: Saturday
Who: Chris and Hesper
When: the wee hours, just before dawn
Where: the enclosed gardens, 13th floor

After getting in from work, Chris had found that he was unable to even consider going to bed yet. It had been a particularly tough night for him, involving a lot of necessary conversations with co-workers, questions to be asked and answers received. Most of the time he could hide out in the file room or lurk behind his supply cart (or even in one of the supply closets) and not have to talk with too many people. At least Vernon Johnson, his nemesis, was on vacation this week, but everything else had gone wrong for him tonight.

He was a nervous wreck and still cold from being outside, where the temperature was close to freezing currently. After changing into a thick grey sweatsuit and grabbing his sketchbook and a charcoal pencil, Chris left his apartment on the seventh floor and took the elevator upstairs to thirteen. He'd had an unpleasant experience in the pool area, but thus far the gardens had been a good place for him. Lush and earthy-smelling and, to him, reminiscent of his growing-up years in Cypremort. Being outside in nature had been a constant in his life, and he missed that. It had felt safe somehow.

Chris settled down in his favorite spot in a back corner, out of the line of sight of the entrance and beneath one of the windows that didn't open. He thought that maybe they were treated with something, because when he was here in the daytime, he'd noticed that they didn't seem to let in as much light as they should. He didn't know that for sure, though. He pulled the hood of the sweatshirt up over his head so that nothing showed but his pale face and dark-blue eyes, taking a deep breath and gazing into the nearest mini-forest of greenery until it all blurred together.

He needed to relax. The last time he'd visited his aunt, she'd asked him if he was sick, telling him he looked as if he'd lost weight. He probably had, though he wasn't the sort who weighed himself. He gauged things like that by the way his pants fit, and actually he had needed to tighten his belt a notch to keep his work pants from falling down in recent days. Chris wasn't sleeping well, and he found himself constantly looking over his shoulder. He was typically nervous as a rule, but he seemed to be more so lately.

Finally he turned his attention to the sketchpad, flipping it open and hastily skipping over the pages that were filled with lavish drawings of creatures with membranous wings, of fire and smoke spiraling toward a cavelike rock ceiling, of desolate leafless trees stretching anguished limbs toward a black sky. Tormented flashes of the pictures that had been invading his brain since he'd been forced to touch the blonde woman he'd run into on the street that night several weeks ago. He was determined to draw something pleasant, something that would soothe him and lull him toward sleep.

Chris was warming up now in the thick sweatsuit he wore, and he bent his head over the sketchbook that he'd propped up on his knees, one corner of his lip held gently in his teeth as he began an elaborately detailed sketch of the dimly-lit vines that clung fiercely to a wooden trellis. The contrasts made it look like a secret garden all its own, sheltered and shadowed and safe.

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shadows_prism
2008-06-01 09:52 pm UTC (link)

Hesper was bored out of her mind. However she was not bored enough to actually go outside. The outside was cold and Hesper was a fervent opposer to the cold. Many days she wondered just why she had settled down here, given the weather, but it was not like she was going to be packing up and leaving any time soon. Or at least not if she could help it anyway. So outside was just not an option to find relief from boredom. Plus a lot of the interesting places were closed anyway.

So since outside was out and there was nothing in the apartment to bother, since Nox was not home yet, that left her with limited options. The gardens seemed like a nice enough option. They were bright and alive, and given that they were full of plants they were not going to be cold. Sure there likely would not be anyone up there at the moment, but it would at least give her a chance to stretch her legs a bit without having to bundle up.

Well, not bundle up too much. She still had to wrap herself up a little more than most humans. But one of Nox's sweatshirts stolen out of his drawers suited well enough on that front and she headed upstairs. The stairs were great fun really, though more fun going down than going up. Still it was another thing to waste energy on so she did not mind all that terribly going up and up. She practically ran up them in an attempt to just be amused to some end.

While she had expected the gardens to be empty, she knew that they weren't as soon as she entered. It was not anyone being loud, but Hesper was a hunter and she was pretty good at knowing when things were there and when they weren't, especially when the only other things around were plants. Not anyone with a very strong smell at least, but if there was someone awake here that meant there was someone to amuse herself with. In what capacity she would have to see once she knew who it was, but it would be amusement all the same.

Wandering through she headed towards the back corner. Peeking around she grinned like a cat who found its mouse. "Well look who's up so early in the morning." she purred darkly. "My favorite twitchy boy. You ganna pass out again, cause have to say, that was a load of fun."

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sensing
2008-06-02 12:12 am UTC (link)

Chris had always heard that heat rose, but he didn't find that to be the case up here. Maybe it was only because it was so cold outside, but while he'd warmed up some, he was far from toasty. He had his hands and fingers up as far inside the sleeves of his sweatshirt as he could get them and still draw. On the page of his sketchpad, a two-inch wide section of leaves and vines had bloomed; he was painstakingly shading them, occasionally erasing a line that did not end up where he wanted it. As always, when he sketched, the world fell away. The cold, stress from work, the overall vague sense of discontentment with his life... all of it.

He was so engrossed that he did not hear the door to the gardens open. Normally he was hyper-alert of his surroundings, but it wasn't exactly a time when he'd expect company up here. When he did become aware that he was no longer alone, he froze, tip of his pencil stil held to the paper, listening intently. At first there was nothing except a faint dripping of water from the gardens' irrigation system. He heard a faint hissing sound and his eyes darted wildly around before he realized that it was the sound of his own breathing he was hearing. Wuss. He let his held-in breath out in a soundless sigh and wondered if he was just imagining the skin-crawling sensation of somebody sneaking up on him. Wouldn't be the first time.

Then Hesper appeared, and the lead of his pencil snapped off against the paper, rolling off of his lap and onto the floor. His gaze jerked back down to the sketchbook and the ugly thick line that now marred his sketch in progress. What was she doing up here? He sneaked a glance upward at her when she spoke, and he tried to regulate his breathing. Wouldn't she just love it if he wasn't even able to speak to her? He wasn't going to bother to tell her that he hadn't gone to bed yet. The fewer words he had to say, the better, and the more likely it would be that he wouldn't stammer all over himself.

Breathe. She isn't going to slit you open and pull out your intestines. I don't think...

When she asked if he was going to pass out again, Chris actually managed to look up at her, his face still overly pale, his expression grave. "No," he managed. He didn't know that for a fact, but it was unlikely unless he had to read her again. He thought it was best that she didn't know that. Probably, the less she knew about him, the better. "W-wasn't fun for me," he added, though that should have been obvious. He had to fight the impulse to yank on the strings of his hood and pull it tighter, as if somehow that would be a defense against her, like body armor.

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shadows_prism
2008-06-02 12:06 pm UTC (link)

Damn, it was like watching a mouse that just got cornered. Granted she did have him cornered, so that might be part of it. And given she had plied details on certain things out of him last time, it was maybe a little understandable on why he was so terrified. Still it was pretty funny to watch. He was almost frozen with fright, just the kind of thing she liked to see.

"Well I didn't think it would be fun for you, cutie. But if you can keep from dong that again, oh I think we could have a fine time." she replied with a grin. He was going to be scared no matter how she acted so she might as well act the part. It was more fun for her that way anyway. It was almost like being on a job only she was not about to kill him when she was done with him.

Walking over, she stood in front of him and looked over at his paper. "Hmmm, looks like you've got a smudge there. Right all over the picture too. Huh, that's such a shame." Tutting she shook her head and then reached down and snapped the sketchpad out of his hands. "So you're an artist. Well let's see what sort of pretty things you've been drawing then."

People accused her of not having regard for other people's property and it was pretty much true. She wanted to see it and so she was going to see it now, no matter what anyone else told her. It was not like he was able to stop her. Hell, he was probably scared to even touch her so the sketchpad was safe in her hands. Well, safe from being taken back at the very least.

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sensing
2008-06-02 01:46 pm UTC (link)

His cheeks colored ever so slightly when she called him cutie, and he tried to will the tint away. If nothing else, it distracted him from being frightened. Chris made his best effort to breathe in, breathe out, keep his heartbeat from running away with itself. There was something about her that both repelled him and grudgingly attracted him, and he wasn't sure what it was. She was something other... he knew that because he'd been touched by her bracelet, worn next to her skin, and he'd touched the shoulder of her jacket that night when she'd seen him home.

He didn't know what, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know. The images he'd seen, so fragmented and confusing and yet terrifying, had been more than enough.

Hesper grabbed his sketchpad too quickly for him to even attempt to hang onto it, and the broken pencil he'd been holding along with it fell from his grasp and landed with a faint clink on the stone walk next to him. Reflexively, he drew his hands completely inside his sleeves, clutching the material in his palms, and then crossed his arms protectively across his middle. He didn't say anything, even though he vehemently opposed her looking at his drawings. Nobody looked at his drawings.

Long ago, he'd allowed Amity to see them, but there'd never been anyone else. It felt as if his very soul were being invaded, and instinctively he was afraid of what she might glean about him once she'd looked through the entire book. He'd had it for months, and it was three-fourths full, a long, spiral-bound book with at least two hundred pages. His stiff spine and the scowl on his face were the only indications that he was displeased with sharing his work; he'd never think of snatching something back from a woman, even one like her who didn't seem to be human.

If she began at the front of it, she'd see his usual style of work: intricately detailed drawings of the bayou in Cypremort, of the front of the restaurant and country store where he'd worked, endless sketches of clouds and moonlit shadow. Chris loved patterns, and he could make an interesting visual study of nearly anything. Angles, signs, buildings, trees, grass. The most recent fifty pages or so, however, were a marked contrast. Still detailed, but the subject matter completely different. Fire. Rocks and water. Creatures with wings. Everything dark, dreary, the strokes bolder and heavier, as if conveying anger.

There was one drawing he hoped she would not notice: a stormy night with fierce lightning splitting the sky. At the far left was a feminine figure with short, light hair, her face turned mostly away. Austere, almost regal. Probably unidentifiable to most. A full set of wings was extended from her back, and one hand, reaching toward the dark sky, was fully clawed. She was fearsome and yet still somehow compelling.

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shadows_prism
2008-06-02 02:33 pm UTC (link)

There was a definite anger when she took the sketchbook. This served to amuse her to no end. Poor little boy was protective of his drawings. Such a cute little hang up to have, really. It was not about to stop Hesper from looking, if anything it just encouraged her. Making people uncomfortable was something she was very good at and he just made it so easy. It was almost impossible for her NOT to bother him. Plus she had not harassed him since that night, she had been awful good about not. Nox would have been proud.

"Hmm, boring." she sighed as she looked at what he had been drawing. Sure it was pretty but it certainly was not all that interesting. Then again she never had been much of one for art. She liked pretty things but mostly only because they were expensive and meant someone else was going out of their way to get them for her. However flipping back to the picture previous was something completely different.

She knew these images. In fact they were ones that she was more aware of than he, being just a faulty human, could ever be. Her posture changed, stiffened, as she looked over the pictures. Dark images of anger and fire. And there were demons. These were definitely demons. Sure humans drew demons all the time, they were in all sorts of those fantasy crap magazines or books or whatever. But she did not like seeing him drawing it and she was not sure why. It struck a chord that she was not sure had been there before.

Flipping through the pages her eyes narrowed as she saw her wings. Those were hers, she knew them like they were the back of her hand. Hell, they basically were the back of her hand. Shoving the sketchbook back at him violently, she leaned close and jabbed a black 'nail' at the wings. "Where did you see these, eh? Fess up now, don't make me pry it out of you, you wouldn't like that." she said, her voice still cool, but with a steel edge behind it.

She knew he saw things, she knew that already. But she did not like the idea of someone drawing her without her knowing. And she did not show anyone her wings, no one. Nox was probably the only person still alive in this city that had ever seen them. With the other shadow demon still in the back of her mind, she was probably more on edge than she should have been. But being rational was never something that had ever mattered all that much to her.

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sensing
2008-06-02 06:10 pm UTC (link)

Intellectually, Chris knew that showing her that he was annoyed only made her more smug, but he couldn't help it. He kept himself so guarded all the time, twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, that he was rarely violated in this sense. If you never let anyone in, you never risked showing who you really were. No risk, no gain? Absolutely, but it was much safer. He valued being safe even as he never truly felt that way.

At first he thought that she might shrug and hand the sketchbook back when she assessed his work as boring, but that didn't happen. He should have known that she was the sort who'd leave no stone unturned, who'd look at every page lest she miss something. And of course, she did.

She did, and it made her angry. Anger and something close to unease was what he saw in her face, and he noticed her posture change from languid to almost rigid. Chris wondered what he possibly could have done to affect her so much, and he soon found out. Hesper slammed the sketchbook back into his lap, and he instinctively uncrossed his arms to catch it... and then she violated his personal space, demanded to know where he'd seen what he'd drawn.

The thing about Chris was that he was quiet and awkward and prone to avoid trouble. Most of the time. He also had a temper that stayed submerged except on rare occasions, and when it boiled over, it was molten lava. When it boiled over, all reason fled until he'd cooled down. So did all practicalities, such as the fact that angering someone like Hesper couldn't possibly be a good idea. Chris had had a rough few weeks, a particularly bad day, he was tired and hungry and deep-down lonely and unsure about what he was even doing here in Seattle right now... and her attitude was the final straw that incited him to let it go.

His fist still clenched around the sweatshirt material, he slapped the sketchbook she'd shoved at him out of his lap and off to the other side, where it skidded to a halt on the stone floor, pages crumpled. After he'd done that, he slapped at her extended finger with the same cloth-covered fist. His other hand flew to his temple and jabbed at it roughly. "In here!" he spat at her, his blue eyes icy, his brows drawn down. "I've seen it in here, ever since you made me touch you!"

Chris would have probably been surprised to realize that, in the midst of his anger, he wasn't stuttering at all. His words came out easily and smoothly. "If you're gonna blame anyone, blame yourself," he snapped, his Southern accent thickening as it always did when he was upset or angry.

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shadows_prism
2008-06-02 06:45 pm UTC (link)

Being safe was overrated. It bothered Nox to no end that she had a taste for being in trouble. Safety just had nothing to it, there was nothing to spice up life. But danger, now that was something. Especially if it was putting someone else in danger, not just herself. Now that was a thrill in itself, holding someone else's life along with your own.

But having someone have something over her was one of those things that she distinctly did not like. As soon as she accused him, she saw him start to tense up and knew there was going to be a reaction. Definitely a bigger reaction than she had seen from him before. In fact she was fairly certain that this would put all of his previous behavior in the dust.

When he hit her hand there was a very conscious effort on her part to not grab his wrist and break it like a twig. She could have done it, it would have been easy. Plus it would have served him right for knocking her hand like that. But the truth was that his sudden outburst intrigued her to no end. The urge to hurt him was nearly overwhelming, but her interest in the anger and emotion and sheer energy behind it was just a tab more enveloping, which probably saved his arm a great deal of damage.

"Made you touch me?" She snapped back at him. "Oh, is that what being polite is called, making people do it. Not like I've beaten you. Though with what you've fucking seen in your pretty little head I probably should bash it in." Most people did not find that kind of thing funny, then again most people did not grow up in hell. Or have her sense of humor really.

Reaching up she hit his cheek lightly to knock him out of his yelling. Nothing too much to hurt him and she figured it was Nox's sweatshirt anyway, anything from it would be nicer than anything from her clothes. "You don't draw a girl without asking, you fucking peeping tom. That drawing there, might as well be drawing me in the shower or in panties. It's not something you're supposed to see and if you do, it better be because you asked real nice. So let's hear you ask real nice."

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sensing
2008-06-02 10:29 pm UTC (link)

Amity had always been a thrill-seeker, and Chris had never understood that type of behavior. He'd also never understood why he and Amity got along so well, but there were some things that seemed destined to remain mysteries. He recognized the same edginess in Hesper, though with her there was nothing to mitigate it. He couldn't imagine her ever being soft or kind.

He could see the fury in her eyes when he slapped at her hand, but it failed to move him. He was just that angry, a feeling that was so rare for him that when it happened, it washed away everything else inside him like a tsunami. There was a part of him that was aware that she could harm him, probably make him wish he was dead, though he wasn't sure how he knew that. It more than likely came from the same place that his knowledge of her true form did. Inside his mind. Psychometry was an inexact talent, but in this case it had shown him a lot more about her than she'd wanted him to know.

Chris got to his feet while she was railing at him, leaving the sketchbook and pencil where they were. "You weren't bein' polite," he told her. "You just wanted to know what I knew." He had the feeling that it had been mere curiosity that had kept her from letting the bodyguards take him and do whatever they wanted with him. Nothing else. She wouldn't have given it a second thought.

Neither was he surprised when she hit him; what surprised him was the lack of force behind the blow. It wouldn't even leave a mark, he didn't think. And while the edge of her sleeve did brush his skin, he didn't get so much as a glimmer from it. Sometimes he didn't. That was dandy with him, because he had enough to worry about right now.

Chris lifted one hand, still covered in the heavy sweatshirt cloth, to his cheek and scrubbed at it, as if he could brush off her touch that way. "That," he said, his voice tight as he used his other hand to gesture at the dropped sketchbook, "was something you weren't s'posed to see. It was private. I don't gotta ask to draw something I see in my mind." A pause for a hitched-in breath, anger coloring his cheeks red again. "I didn't wanna see it. Any of it. Didn't want you in my head."

Now he was saying way more than he should, and he wasn't even sure if it made any sense. He stood with his fists clenched, everything inside him as tight as a spring that was ready to snap; there was a throbbing beginning just behind his temples. There was a serious headache in his future.

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shadows_prism
2008-06-02 10:56 pm UTC (link)

Hesper could be soft, but it took very interesting circumstances for something like that to occur. Then usually after the moment of softness it was followed by one of intense rage that had a habit of leaving quite a few bodies to be gotten rid of later. Kindness was a strange thing though. If someone asked her, Hesper would say she was very kind. Just not in the way that humans seemed to be used to people being kind.

Narrowing her eyes she kept herself from shoving him back down in his chair. He looked like such a fragile thing and she did not want to break him, especially when he was showing this much spirit. It had her all lit up inside. "Oh right, cause I just happened to know that you knew something when I first saved you. Cause don't you know, don't just have wings, I'm a fucking mind reader too." she drawled, rolling her eyes.

Tutting, she stepped closer to him, knowing that his personal space being violated was something that set him off. But hell she just could not stop herself. She wanted him to try something, she really did. To try to hit her or grab her, she could handle it and it'd be a bit of a rush. "Aw, am I in your pretty little head?" she asked, cooing. "Well isn't that just a shame, having thoughts of me in your head."

Reaching up she poked his forehead lightly with her finger. "That doesn't change the fact that you went peeping. And you've been thinking about what you saw. And now it won't leave? Well I'm sorry baby boy, hell's got a habit of sticking with you, specially if you've got nothing to block it out with."

Shaking her head, she looked straight in his eyes. She made sure that he was looking right back at her, and she was not about to let him look away. "See the problem is, I could have killed you easier than those guards would have, but I didn't. So get off your fucking high horse and maybe I'll be nice enough to help you with those horrible things you just keep on seeing."

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sensing
2008-06-03 12:42 am UTC (link)

Chris on the other hand was normally soft and malleable when he wasn't being reserved or avoidy. He didn't like making waves, didn't like stirring up trouble. But his stubborn side had come out along with the anger he felt, and it was making him foolhardy. Not to mention irrational.

He was taller than she was at least by a couple of inches, he noticed as they stood there face to face, and somehow that made him more able to stand his ground. "I don't really know anything about you," he argued when she spouted off about having wings and being a mind reader, sarcasm dripping from her voice. "Just flashes. That's all I get." Maybe she'd leave him alone if she knew how sparse his knowledge really was.

When she poked at his forehead, which was already hurting, he grabbed her hand and pulled it down, his sleeve falling away from his fingers as he did. Bare skin to bare skin, there were no flashes to be had, but he winced anyway, as if in anticipation. He wasn't rough with her, but simply got her hand out of his face. Her fingers were cold, colder than they should be, it seemed to him. "I didn't do it on purpose," he said when she accused him of peeping. "I can't really help what I see." Belatedly, he let go of her hand.

Chris wanted to look away when she held his gaze, but he couldn't seem to. He clamped his lips firmly shut on the words that wanted to come out, such as What do you want? Why won't you leave me alone? I wasn't bothering you. He already knew that wouldn't matter. He didn't have to be bothering her for her to engage him, because she wasn't like the average person. She was way too close to him, closer than he liked anyone to be, but he couldn't seem to step back either.

"I know you could," he whispered when she said she could have killed him. It was obvious, now that he knew even the little bit he knew about her. What was not obvious to him was why she'd affected him so strongly. He shouldn't be having to use his sketchpad to dull the effects of the pictures she'd somehow put in his head... the images he'd read from her that kept repeating over and over. He wished he knew why. It was not something that had ever happened to him before.

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shadows_prism
2008-06-03 09:37 pm UTC (link)

The urge to slap him was incredible, really. Were all boys this stupid? Oh right, they were. He was being a dumbass and he really should have known that he was being one too. "Listen to yourself veeeery carefully." she said, drawing out the very as long as possible really. "You don't know anything about me, expect little flashes in your head. All you know besides that is that I saved your ass and dragged said ass up to your apartment and didn't just leave you on the streets."

Frowning, she again resisted the urge to do something to hurt him. He was making it a bit hard, really. While she had a thing for forceful men, if she forced back the kid would end up with a broken bone or two... or five. "If you wanted to or not isn't the point, it's the fact that you did and are now judging me like some fucking protester on the corner. Like you're mister fucking perfect."

Sure she really did not think about what people thought of her, but he had something useful. His talent could help her. But she could not use it unless he was on at least speaking terms with her. Which meant she needed him to like her, she really did not care in what capacity, as long as it got her what she wanted. Her work was tracking down and killing people. However she could find out a wealth of information that would be useful to her if she could use his power to her own benefit.

"Sit." she said forcefully. She knew he wouldn't at first and so her hand found its way on his chest and pushed him forcefully back into the chair. "Sit." she repeated, keeping her hand there as she looked down at him. "You know I could, and yet have seen that I haven't. So maybe I want to play nice. So calm the fuck down and play nice, cause you wouldn't want to see me not playing nice. And I've been oh so nice to you."

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sensing
2008-06-03 10:31 pm UTC (link)

...and tortured information out of me and nearly let me pass out until I told you, Chris wanted to add when she started waxing noble about how she'd saved him. Which yes, she had. He would have been a lot more impressed by that if she hadn't hectored him all the way back to the Towers and then taken advantage of his blood sugar crash. Still. Okay, he'd have to give her that, because she hadn't had to, and true, she wasn't psychic. She hadn't known what he was until he'd started behaving strangely. More strangely than he usually did. Right.

His anger was beginning to drain away, replaced with a hollow emptiness that some might've called melancholy or depression. He felt low. That was the best way he could describe it. Suddenly, all he wanted was to be in his apartment, climbing into bed and pulling the covers all the way over his head, where maybe he could finally get warm and forget about everything that was going wrong for a while. "I never s-said I was perfect," he protested, but there was no more argumentativeness in his tone. "I kn-know I'm not." The stutter was back, and he didn't even notice. There was a peculiar blankness to his expression that wasn't anything like the fear he'd formerly felt toward her or the rage he'd shown so recently.

He was alone, except for his aunt who lived nearby, in a big, busy city where a guy his age should have been able to make friends, be involved in things... but he couldn't. He never could. The problem wasn't his geographical location, it was him, and there was a part of him that had always known that. "I wasn't judging," he added, his voice nearly a whisper. "If it seemed like I was, I d-didn't mean to." The words were concilatory, and while they were true and he meant them, he seemed almost distracted now. His head hurt and his insides felt hollow, either from hunger or too much emotion in a short period of time. He wasn't sure which.

Hesper forced him to sit down and held her hand against his chest to restrain him, and he just stared at her. He didn't like to be touched all that much, but he didn't try to push her off this time. It wasn't like her hand on the front of his sweatshirt would force him to see anything; he'd have to be touching something of hers for that to happen. His eyes held hers for what felt like a long time, though he couldn't have said how long it had actually been. He wondered what she wanted, why he had to sit down. Was it just so she could try to intimidate him? She was probably right, he thought; if this was nice, he'd hate to see her being mean.

Chris couldn't seem to summon the energy to say anything else right then, so he just looked at her and waited for whatever she was going to do.

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shadows_prism
2008-06-03 11:52 pm UTC (link)

Getting the information out of him was a completely sensible thing for her to do in her mind. Considering how he had started acting it was possible he could have done her harm. She had dealt with 'gifted' humans before. In fact she had killed quite a few of them. They were always more difficult to get rid of than their more ordinary counterparts. But the fact remained that he had been acting weird and she was only looking out for her own personal safety. No one could fault her for that.

And now all the spunk had drained away. Now that was no fun, he had been almost unbearably attractive when he was yelling at her. Without it he just looked like a sad puppy. It was a bit pathetic really, how he just switched back and forth. It was like all his strength had just melted off his bones into nothing. And he was stuttering again, wasn’t that a delight to follow. Honestly she was not sure just how to deal with this kid. It was like he was some sort of lost soul.

She was not known for sweet, but she was known for getting what she wanted. If sweet and kind did that, then she could pull that off. Shaking her head she leaned in and kissed his forehead lightly. “Look, just calm down. I’m not going to hurt you. I promise that I’m not going to. But you need to promise to calm the fuck down and quit acting like I’m about to murder you at any given moment. Cause I’m not, don’t have any reason for that.”

Hell, the only time she did was if she was being paid or someone actually managed to piss her off. But she wanted his power and that seemed to mean playing nice. Hopefully she was reading this correctly. Otherwise she would just rely on threatening him if gaining his trust didn’t work. However that was a less helpful situation, because he would have no reason to tell her all of what he saw if he was just terrified, he might withhold information.

She offered her hand to him in a gesture that she thought was kind. “Look, let’s get you back to your apartment. Get something in you and then get you to bed. That sound like a good idea? Won’t even hold the orange juice over your head this time. Promise I’ll be on my very best behavior. And I promise that my cooking isn’t poisonous.” Well, it was not most of the time. There was a reason that Nox did most of the cooking after all.

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sensing
2008-06-04 03:07 pm UTC (link)

Doing harm wasn't Chris' thing, but she wouldn't have known that. He'd had no reason to think that she'd have to fear being hurt, as strong and aggressive as she seemed. Of course, he'd found that there was so much more than met the eye to most people, which was why he avoided touching others whenever he could. It made for a lonely life, but he'd long become used to that.

When Hesper leaned over to actually kiss his forehead, he had no idea how to react or what to say. That was one of the last actions he would have expected from her. She came across as stern, snappy and sometimes just on the edge of violence; there was a barely contained tension about her every move. Chris had to struggle with himself to sit still, not to twitch away from the brief press of her lips. He wasn't accustomed to being touched or kissed... even his aunt didn't usually hug him because she knew how peculiar he could be about being close to people.

When she straightened back up, he watched her with wide blue eyes. He wished he had some idea what she wanted, why she had suddenly switched from harsh and taunting, like when she'd grabbed his sketchbook, to this. Maybe you could find out if you touched her again. Her clothes, her jewelry if she has any on. Chris blinked away the thought, unable to bear the idea of the draining effect it would have on him. Maybe sometime, but not now. Maybe sometime when he was at full energy and not exhausted and hungry.

She extended her hand, and he was faced with yet another decision about how to react, what to do. He didn't want to touch her, even though he knew that holding her hand wouldn't spark anything in him. He leaned down enough to pick up the sketchbook he'd pushed away and the pencil, then he sat up again. He wanted to tell her that she didn't have to come with him, that he was fine, it wasn't like last time... but wouldn't that offend her? She was very obviously trying to be nice, and it seemed to be a stretch for her.

After he'd tucked the pencil into the front pocket of his sweatshirt and tucked the sketchbook beneath one arm, he took a deep silent breath and reached for her hand, his fingers curling around hers as he got up. "Okay," he said, keeping his voice level. "I worked all night, so I should get to bed soon."

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shadows_prism
2008-06-05 03:11 pm UTC (link)

She could tell he did not like being touched. But that really did not matter to her, given that she liked touch. It was one of her main means of communication and she would be damned if he could stop her. Given that he couldn't, and they both knew it, she did not see any problem with this system at all. Skin did not seem to send him into one of his freak outs, which was a good thing really. Objects were much easier to get people to touch naturally than bits of skin were.

Waiting for him to gather up his things that he had tossed around, she wanted to huff a bit because really, she did not want to have to be waiting. And being nice was hard, especially when someone did not appreciate it at all. Which he had not before and probably would continue to. It was a bit aggravating really. But there was not much that she could do really, it was like being with a skittish cat.

Pulling him slightly as he got up to make him go faster, she shrugged. "Right, bed. Nox is probably home around now or at least soon. Huh." she remarked more to herself than anyone else really. "You eaten anything recently?" she asked, looking at him.

It was not as if she needed him to lead her to where he lived, she knew where it was now. But then again if she started dragging his ass there he probably would get even more mousy than he already was at the moment. And that would just be rather tiresome.

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sensing
2008-06-07 11:26 am UTC (link)

Chris had never been able to read from just skin, which he was glad for; it was one less thing to worry about in day to day life. So it was okay to hold her hand, even if it felt peculiar to him. He could just imagine what someone like Vernon Johnson would have to say about this, though, even though it was a perfectly innocent situation. He shook the thought of his co-worker away, because, yeah. He probably came closer to hating Vernon than he did anyone else in the known universe.

Once he was up, he'd pretty much resigned himself to his fate. For whatever reason, Hesper was determined to see him to his apartment, and there was no point in protesting. He heeded the tug on his hand and picked up the pace of his steps as they headed for the door leading to the elevator. "Who's Nox?" he asked idly, then wondered if he should have. Well, the words were already spoken, so it was too late now. "Not recently," he added quickly in answer to her question.

Chris was trying not to think about how weird this was. It almost felt surreal, but then some of that could have been because he wasn't used to actually talking to people or being close enough to touch them. Or walking along a corridor holding hands with a woman who was old enough to be... his older sister, probably. Not that she was unattractive, but it was just strange. He straightened his spine and sneaked a glance at her, then once they'd reached the elevator, he punched the button to summon the elevator with his free hand.

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