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hansel (hans) wrote in hotelhelllogs,

Talking had always been something that Hansel could have taken or left. He'd never been the kind to chatter on and on unless he'd been drinking and even then it was unlikely he'd go on and on to anyone other than Gretel. It was a strange feeling to realize that he'd give up the protection of his mother's magic to be able to tell Phoebe that no one had ever talked about him that way. No one had ever seen him that way.

Hansel knew his place in life. He was the thing that stood between good people and bad things. That meant sometimes the bad things got to take a bite out of him for the trouble he caused them. Hansel had always thought that was fair; it was all balancing act to see who got the bigger bite. He liked making sure that his bite let the biggest mark since that was how he stayed alive, how his sister stayed alive. They were good for each other, him and Gretel, but even Gretel didn't think about him the way that Phoebe seemed to. He was useful, trustworthy, and driven. Most of the time Hansel figured that translated to Gretel loving him the way that a woman would love her favorite dress.

He was accustomed to being an object with some worth for what that object could do rather than a man. People simply didn't expect him to have thoughts or feelings. Phoebe made him have both and he'd have given anything to share a few with her. In that moment, he'd have literally given everything for the chance to have all the right words and the fucking curse lifted so he could share those with her.

Since he couldn't have that, Hansel settled for getting to be close enough to her that he could get both arms around her and lifting her back onto her mattress. It was a little awkward thanks to the angle, but he knew he didn't hurt her. Hansel was strong. That was one of the few things he had going for him. A lifetime of hunting and violence had left him hard though it had also made sure he had the ability to follow through on what needed to be done when evil came looking for him. He couldn't tell her how she didn't need to be on the floor because he didn't have words and he was sick of that damned hunting and pecking game on the device. Instead, Hansel figured he'd take her at her word.

That was the highest compliment a man could be given in his world: being taken at his word. It was the greatest possession most men had to offer where he lived. The poor didn't have much more than pride and their names; Hansel was fine enough accepting Phoebe's good name in exchange for what sounded impossible to him.

Hansel moved slow and easy onto the mattress with her. It surprised him that she was smaller than him by enough that he could tell where her feet stopped from where they touched his legs, but she had enough presence that she filled the whole world for him. He touched her face with only his fingertips, lightly tracing the curve of her cheek down to the line of her jaw before he reached her chin. He used the softest touch he could to lift her face only enough that he could touch his lips to hers, a touch of gratitude and caring rather than a grand show of passion.

He shifted back enough from her to give her a questioning look. It was easy to take a kiss. It was another thing to get away with it.