InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Littering and...?"

fond_affections (fond_affections) wrote in bellumlogs,
@ 2010-01-02 16:28:00

Current mood:	curious
Entry tags:	beauty

Who: Ed and Ella
Where: 905
When: Right about now.
Warnings:None. Really now--they're just meeting!

He smoothed his slacks as he rose from the floor. His laptop was temporarily living on top of box of books near the only power outlet that wasn't buried behind other boxes. After running his fingers through his hair and pulling on his shoes, he grabbed his overcoat and wallet. This was a neighborly visit, after all, and it wouldn't be appropriate to turn up without a token gift. He eyed the elevator with suspicion for a moment and then decided to take the stairs--loping down them with the easy stride of an active, but not athletic man.

Since he didn't actually know Ella he couldn't shop with any specificity--but he dashed out to a bakery two blocks down and emerged minutes later with a selection of treats tied up in the requisite pink box-with-string style that was all the style among bakers these days. Back up the stairs he went--this time keeping to a slower pace so as not to arrive at the door of #905 out of breath. Another quick run of fingers through his hair and he knocked rapidly and firmly on the door. Rap. Rap. Rap.

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bookshelved
2010-01-02 11:40 pm UTC (link)

Ella had spent the better part of the night unpacking, and she'd only found sleep when the sun had started to rise outside the uncovered apartment windows. The arboretum was set up completely and Home was currently in there asleep in his second cage, but the living room and adjacent study were filled with boxes and stacks of books, which were almost too high to see over and too many to navigate around.

It wasn't the daunting unpacking, however, which had stolen her sleep; it was the Landlord, and the anticipated forthcoming call with the authorities, and the communication she'd received from Vaughn.

Vaughn, who she hadn't seen since she was a child aged six. Ella had no idea what her half sister looked like or what she'd done with her life. She couldn't pick her out from a crowded room, and she didn't even know if she'd married or had children. All she had to go on, were her father's cautionary words about his former family.

When the knock came at the door, she rose from the couch and did her best to straighten long, long hair that was mussed from sleep, and she tugged down the sweater she'd fallen asleep in, as she went and opened the door.

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fond_affections
2010-01-02 11:58 pm UTC (link)

He had to admit to himself that he was pleasantly surprised by how attractive the young woman was as she opened the door. She looked like you'd expect someone in the middle of unpacking to look--a bit tired, perhaps even frayed at the edges.

He held up the string-wrapped box and gave a warm smile, "Hello neighbor! I brought sustenance and willing hands... Did you save the heavy lifting for me?" His voice was melodic, despite the hint of rasp that always seemed to creep in. He waited then for her to size him up.

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bookshelved
2010-01-03 01:50 am UTC (link)

He was older than she'd expected, but not unpleasantly so, and she did exactly as he expected and sized him up.

His eyes looked kind, if mischievous, and he was tall enough and of wide enough stature to be cast as the older romantic interest in a story. The man the heroine turned to in the end, after her heart was broken by the young rake. He was the building's Colonel Brandon, she decided, and she stepped aside to let him pass.

"If I am correct in assuming that you're Ed, I'll make you coffee before I work your fingers to the bone," she said, a sleepy smile on her lips as she revealed the piles of books and boxes and art.

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fond_affections
2010-01-03 02:00 am UTC (link)

She stepped aside and touched his forehead as if tipping an invisible cap. "Ed Strong at your service!" he agreed and followed her in.

Looking around he took in the piles of books and art. His eyes roamed quickly but efficiently trying to get a feel for her tastes. She was clearly well-read and that made him curious. The sleepy smile and slightly mussed hair made her look slightly younger than her already youthful age.

"Coffee sounds great, but don't go to any trouble on my account..." He thought of his own half-unpacked kitchen. "Mid-way through moving in I always find that the simplest of things become incredibly problematic...I'm pretty sure that putting the batteries back in my remote controls might be too of a challenge for me right now..." he half muttered the second half, shaking his head in the daze of a man who was living among boxes and kept losing his shoes.

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bookshelved
2010-01-03 02:09 am UTC (link)

She took the box of sweets he carried, and she motioned to the red sofa in the living area, which was covered with throws and blankets and piled high with Waterhouse prints. "If you can find space, you can sit down and tell me about the challenging ways in which the remote controls torment you, while I make us both coffee. I was quite asleep when you knocked," she admitted without any embarrassment, as she turned for the kitchen, remaining in his line of vision as she began brewing something that smelled fresh-pressed and slightly of hazelnuts. "I haven't heard from the authorities yet. Has last night's travesty made you reconsider unpacking your own boxes?"

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fond_affections
2010-01-03 02:21 am UTC (link)

He moved to the sofa and carefully displaced a stack of prints, shifting them to the top of a nearby box. He smoothed some of the throws with his hand before tidying them into a near-bundle and shifting them a bit more so he could sit on one of the red sofa. Still looking around he wasn't really aware of the fact that his left hand still moved over the soft fabric of a throw blanket. The fingers half-stroking the blanket and half-marking the phantom motions of some unheard melody.

He focused on where she stood and the smell of coffee, bringing his mind back to conversation. "I'm sorry I woke you! But I must say you wake up much more pleasantly than many folks..." he smiled a playful smile but then made a mock grimace. "Well, let's just say that finding not one but two double A batteries in my apartment at this point is nearly a Herculean feat. If I were smart I'd just go out and buy some...but somehow that seems like admitting defeat! I may have to unpack my boxes despite our apparently crazy landlord just so I can win the battle of the remote control!" He grumbled good naturedly.

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bookshelved
2010-01-03 02:29 am UTC (link)

She returned to him with two cups of coffee in her hand, and she held one out to him as she sat on the edge of the bundled blankets. She hadn't asked if he wanted cream or sugar, because she was certain she'd perfected the most pleasing combination of both, and she smelled the nutty-sweet liquid before taking a sip.

She had noticed his hand, and the movement of it, on her walk back to the couch, and she smiled at him, her expression curious. "You're tactile," she said, looking to his hand and then back again. "And I am certain your batteries are exactly where they should be, if we went to look." She leaned forward, her voice dropping conspiratorially. "But I will not tell anyone, if you don't."

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fond_affections
2010-01-03 02:53 am UTC (link)

He reached out with his right hand to take the coffee, too distracted by the thought of missing batteries and mysteriously disappearing shoes to worry about whether the cup was too hot. Or whether the coffee was his preferred mixture of high octane and...well nothing.

When she spoke he let his eyes follow hers to his left hand and became aware of its movements. He cringed briefly--a flash of pain that he swore went from his heart right to his fingertips making the hand curl slightly and then drop into his lap. He nodded as he sipped the coffee. "Yes. I guess I am tactile...I hope your throw blanket isn't offended by the overly familiar behavior.." he joked, the soft laughter not quite reaching his eyes.

The coffee was good on top of being hot. He let it slip over his tongue as she leaned closer. Then his eyes gleamed as he shook his head. "If I knew where they should be I would go look. That's the problem. I don't yet know where they should be. They don't have a home in the new apartment yet. They don't belong...anywhere..." For a moment he might have been talking about something other than batteries. "But I do appreciate your discretion! I am indebted for that...and the coffee!"

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bookshelved
2010-01-03 03:04 am UTC (link)

She saw the quick cringe, and it drew her attention back to his hand, to his face, and back again. When his hand dropped into his lap, she reached for it gently, the expression on her face kind and curious. "What is it?" she asked, the remote controls and the batteries almost forgotten in the need to know what she'd done or said to cause the reaction.

"The blanket welcomes familiar behavior by interesting people," she offered, trusting and without hesitation.

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fond_affections
2010-01-03 03:13 am UTC (link)

"Oh..." he was startled to find his hand being reached for. He was used to being approached. Touched. Even pawed. But no one ever reached for his hand in such an...innocent...way. It took him a second to recover his bearings. He held the hand out toward her, uncurling the fingers into as relaxed a posture as he could. "Nothing...really. Just an old injury that sometimes causes a bit of pain..." He smiled then almost managing his usual confident, charming smile. He waited for her to inspect the hand, sipping his coffee and watching her over the rim of the cup.

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	bookshelved 2010-01-03 03:57 am UTC (link)
	She slid her hand over his palm, then she took his coffee cup and she put it aside along with her own. A swift movement found her on her feet, and she took his other hand, his uninjured hand, and she pulled him toward the arboretum. "What do you take for it?" she asked, even as she pushed the door to the room open and revealed a room full of damp greenery. (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

fond_affections
2010-01-03 04:05 am UTC (link)

He gave up his cup and let himself be pulled to his feet.

"Take for it?" He was momentarily bemused since he rarely discussed his hand. "Oh...well just OTC pain pills mostly. But I have prescriptions for anti-inflammatories, muscle relaxers, the works..." He shrugged. "I don't like taking that stuff...it makes everything grey and dull..."

When the door swung open onto a room full of plants he smiled a surprised, pleased smile. "You are full of surprises...I bet you could find those batteries...!"

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bookshelved
2010-01-03 04:21 am UTC (link)

She laughed, and she led him to the chair in the center of the room, encouraging him to sit. She walked over to the shelves beside the herb garden, where possets and ointments lived in the cool care of closed wooden doors. They squeaked when she opened them, the scent of dried things and medicine joining the spell of green in the room.

She looked at one vial, then replaced it, deciding on a small glass pot, which she opened and dragged her fingers through. She returned to him, and she held out her hand for his injured one. The salve on her fingers smelled of beeswax and arnica and olive oil, and it was laced with something indefinably sweet.

"I can't grow anything to find batteries, I'm afraid. Are you very disappointed? she asked, waiting for him to offer his hand for her minstrations.