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John Mitchell is on the fringes looking in (onthefringes) wrote in wariscoming,

"Okay, I'll keep a tally sheet for you, if you don't get too smug every time you reach a certain target." And Mitchell mentally facepalmed, accepting that he had just encouraged her to make him laugh and relax more often. But really, was that such a bad thing? He had tried to be normal in the past, tried to be 'human', but every time it had backfired, and he'd ended up hurting the people around him. But maybe this time could be different. This time there was a human involved, yes, but one who knew what he was and seemed to like him anyway. And there wasn't the guilt he had had with Annie. Oh Annie, he had loved her. Part of him probably always would. But she hadn't understood him, and hadn't really wanted to. She had feared that side of him and had pushed him into being arrested, drawing the attentions of Wyndham, pushing over that last desperate ledge. Mitchell had wanted to be better for her, but in the end, had never been enough. Annie, like Lauren before her, was someone he would forever associate with so much guilt and regret.

Not like with Lydia. Who could make him almost purr like a cat and make him feel so soothed just by her presence. The sound of her heartbeat wasn't like a taunting reminder of blood, but a reassuring presence that she was right there and calm with him.

Also she was a genius. And he glanced up at her with a smirk, even though he didn't move his head so much that her hand could lost contact with his hair. "We should totally do that one. Katherine and Alex probably wouldn't even notice, which would just drive him even more crazy, trying to work out just where everything should be again." At some point down the line, Hal had stopped being the Old One he should have been in awe of and had become the roommate he wanted to wind up. Weird life.

And that mental image made his brain practically short circuit. Lydia in a lake, water dripping, giving him that grin, it was enough to make his unneeded breath catch for a moment. "Better hope the weather warms up enough soon then. Because we should find a lake." Really really find a lake. Nice and private, just the two of them and okay, needing to make his brain focus again.

"Oh really? The 80s had shoulder pads. And the worst hair styles and punk music that was less music and more shouting, which I never really understood as a genre," he grinned up at her, eyes bright with the memories of it. "Though we did also have Freddie Mercury back then, and he made so many things worth it. Queen were gods."