[ She's been wondering where all those chocolate chips have been disappearing to. She should have known to look for smudgy evidence when she began suspecting. Of course, it could have been Kate. Maybe they're working as a unit. This bears further investigation.
For a moment, Claire looks at him openly, and there's a very slight almost imperceptible flush across her cheeks at the praise and then she's arching an eyebrow, conniving. ]
You could think that, but you'd be wrong.
[ It does feel a little weird, and a little wrong in its own right. But it also feels nice and there has been such a lack of that lately. ]
[ 'Chocolate' chips. Space imitation chocolate. But everyone can dream. ]
What's it doing, then? [ Pale, spindly fingers tap over the pillow's edge, spiderlike. He watches her blush and wonders-- but it's distant, because he's distant. But he's a little pleased, too. ]
You- oh. [ Sliiightly stumbling over himself there, and it's his turn to have a moment of looking a bit red, though it dissipates as he shakes his head to toss his hair away from his eyes. ] Inefficient. Is it.
[ She's still sitting over there, it's working perfectly. ]
[ She counts that a victory, on some level, never mind that she isn't looking for it or expecting it. All the same, she's somehow not surprised to find it there, coloring his face and then covering it up in the same turn. For her part, Claire just tries to look smug in order to keep up pretenses of the game.
What were they playing again? ]
Well, now it just sounds like you're asking me to prove to you that I do, in fact, sit on people.
I think you're projecting slightly-- [ though he doesn't sound opposed to this strange turn of events, exactly. ] You could just. Ask. I mean it's fine.
[ She's laughing without laughing. If he looks at her dead-on, he won't be able to miss it. She is, however, making that difficult, by pulling her feet up off the floor and angling them out to the side. Rather than sitting on him - which is a real threat that she will surely capitalize on one day - she is just going to lean on him and angle her head until it finds the correct groove along his shoulder to fall against.
Oh, and she is taking that pillow back, thank you. ]
[ Ahaha. Well. At least she likes idiots, then. Severus sits still so she can flop against him, and is glad she can't see him go slightly red again. Awkwardness threatens to arrest him entirely again, but he decides to tell it to fuck off for a moment - and coils one arm around her instead. She's short, and it's nice, because he's not anything more than average height himself. What a dumb thing to think about, he reflects. ]
[ Get it right, Severus. It's nerds or bust. Which has no line of direction here, in this room, in this situation, because she's stopped boiling attraction up to this or that and just decided to not think about it. When you get down to brass tacks, it's never going to matter in the end, and if she doesn't ever just do things then she'll spend the rest of her life just doing nothing at all because that was the safer course of action. Ironic for someone who would get flattened by a steam roller just to see what would happen afterward, but the physicality of life has never been difficult in that capacity.
This is hard, even if it doesn't seem like, and yet it seems so easy that she can barely believe they were ever at odds about being friends, let alone being whatever. Claire, meanwhile, flattens the pillow in her lap and folds her hands over it. ]
I really do appreciate you coming by. It's a lot harder to wallow when someone else is in the room.
[ If they're both bad at this and confused, then the playing field is even, and that's okay; he wonders if she thinks about the fact that he's killed people, that she knows he's been a terrorist. And he's still here, on her bed, with her snuggled into his side. All of that is probably less okay - but he thinks about the things she's told him about her life. Maybe it's fine. ]
I suppose you still could. [ He shifts slightly so he can hold her easier, finding this at least to be easily automatic. His tone is a little teasing, but gentles. ] It's the least I can do.
[ She's had to accept the reality that she isn't normal and the people in her life and her relationships with them are never going to be normal so many times she could probably take a written exam on the subject. That's even without counting the fact that all of them, now, are on an actual spaceship that tries to kill them every so often. Maybe Claire should look the other way in regards to him. She won't, though. She can respect someone who goes through hell and comes out the other side, regardless of whether or not they're fundamentally changed, and she appreciates the fact that he's stuck around all this time, even when he was butting heads with her to let him pull back. ]
No, it means a lot. People will walk on eggshells around you when they know you've lost someone, in whatever way. [ Her face turns up toward him, and the expression there tries to be comical despite the somberness of the topic being addressed. ] Besides, I'm a very ugly crier.
[ Do they walk on eggshells? Severus doesn't notice her looking at him for a moment, frowning slightly as he stares into the distance and considers. Are muggles just less callous about it to each other? Perhaps they're less used to death.
--And then he does notice, and he squeezes her, a little playfully. ] I wouldn't care about that. I mean, I reckon you always look beautiful no matter what, anyway.
[ Do girls like hearing that? He... thinks so? Genuinely, Severus sounds a little mystified. Being beautiful is low on his list of reasons he likes Claire, but it's still undeniable that she is. Which makes it even weirder that she's having a go at a cuddle with him of all people. ]
[ Well, it is Claire's turn to transform into an idiot, categorized mainly by her not saying anything or even having anything to say. Fundamentally she knows that her facial structure and overall appearance has come together in a way that is not exactly unpleasant, but she still doesn't know what to do with that kind of a compliment when it's coming from him. It's just such a change of pace from where they were prior to the last jump. Part of her - well, most of her, when she really thinks about it - can't actually comprehend how it's gone from one extreme to the other.
Her silence stretches on longer than she intends it to, because what does she say to that?? Thank you? That seems so arbitrary. And why is she hinging on one line anyway? Stop being such a weirdo, you weirdo, she thinks. ]
No, it's really gross. Granted, you've seen me hacking up a lung and my nose running all over the place so how could it be worse than that, right? I'd probably have to use you as a human tissue.
[ Claire imagines he's had worse stuff smeared all over him. Also, retroactively, she realizes that she's babbling, which she stops by stretching her lips over her teeth. One of these days she is probably going to have to be the one to kiss him, and she doesn't know why it's got to be One of These Days when she knows it could be now and that would be fine. Not after that stunning display, though. ]
Have you seen my hands, [ he says wryly, stretching out the fingers of the one not attached to the arm around her. Stained cuticles, discolored nails, faded nicks and burns, the overall pallid color of his skin to begin with. ] I think your nose leaking on me would be practically sterile. I could get you a jar for it, though.
[ Surprise, he's still a boy. Gross things?? Let's poke it with a stick. ]
[ That, at least, is an instant response that requires no actual amount of thinking. Usually she is all for gross things, but the idea of a jar of snot is a little much for her tastes. ]
Could you even do anything with a jar of snot? [ And then she starts laughing. ] I can't believe this is an actual conversation I'm having.
I can think of... three things off the top of my head I could do with a jar of snot. [ MAGIC IT'S SO CHARMING ] Which is not that odd, truly, you don't want to get into other bodily excretions and alchemy.
[ She folds her legs out in front of her, enough that he knee reaches across the bedspread to bump up into his thigh. Claire doesn't bother moving it and tries to ignore it, act like it's not happening, like it's no thing. ]
[ A lot is safe with her, apparently, and that is-- kind of frightening, in a way he hasn't experienced before. Fear may not be the best term - he's not sure he's able to feel fear anymore - but there's something disorienting about it. Severus wants to say to her that the reason he fought so much is because of this, whatever this is, that he might get used to, that he might completely fuck up. He's always been the person to discard something emotionally significant instead of risk ruining it.
This is new.
He squeezes her hand. ]
I do have to get to work soon, [ he says, with enough reserve to sound a little regretful about it, for once. ] You'll be all right?
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[ Probably obviously. He eats everything she gives him and occasionally steals cookies.
(This all feels a little weird, but for the moment, he's just going with it and not reminding himself he needs to lock up.) ]
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For a moment, Claire looks at him openly, and there's a very slight almost imperceptible flush across her cheeks at the praise and then she's arching an eyebrow, conniving. ]
You could think that, but you'd be wrong.
[ It does feel a little weird, and a little wrong in its own right. But it also feels nice and there has been such a lack of that lately. ]
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What's it doing, then? [ Pale, spindly fingers tap over the pillow's edge, spiderlike. He watches her blush and wonders-- but it's distant, because he's distant. But he's a little pleased, too. ]
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Serving as an inefficient barrier between you and me sitting on you, basically.
[ At this point, Claire has absolutely no idea what she's doing. But she's enjoying it. ]
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[ She's still sitting over there, it's working perfectly. ]
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What were they playing again? ]
Well, now it just sounds like you're asking me to prove to you that I do, in fact, sit on people.
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[ A pause. ]
I sound like an idiot, I think.
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Ask to sit on you?
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[ hELP ]
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[ She's laughing without laughing. If he looks at her dead-on, he won't be able to miss it. She is, however, making that difficult, by pulling her feet up off the floor and angling them out to the side. Rather than sitting on him - which is a real threat that she will surely capitalize on one day - she is just going to lean on him and angle her head until it finds the correct groove along his shoulder to fall against.
Oh, and she is taking that pillow back, thank you. ]
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This is hard, even if it doesn't seem like, and yet it seems so easy that she can barely believe they were ever at odds about being friends, let alone being whatever. Claire, meanwhile, flattens the pillow in her lap and folds her hands over it. ]
I really do appreciate you coming by. It's a lot harder to wallow when someone else is in the room.
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I suppose you still could. [ He shifts slightly so he can hold her easier, finding this at least to be easily automatic. His tone is a little teasing, but gentles. ] It's the least I can do.
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No, it means a lot. People will walk on eggshells around you when they know you've lost someone, in whatever way. [ Her face turns up toward him, and the expression there tries to be comical despite the somberness of the topic being addressed. ] Besides, I'm a very ugly crier.
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--And then he does notice, and he squeezes her, a little playfully. ] I wouldn't care about that. I mean, I reckon you always look beautiful no matter what, anyway.
[ Do girls like hearing that? He... thinks so? Genuinely, Severus sounds a little mystified. Being beautiful is low on his list of reasons he likes Claire, but it's still undeniable that she is. Which makes it even weirder that she's having a go at a cuddle with him of all people. ]
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Her silence stretches on longer than she intends it to, because what does she say to that?? Thank you? That seems so arbitrary. And why is she hinging on one line anyway? Stop being such a weirdo, you weirdo, she thinks. ]
No, it's really gross. Granted, you've seen me hacking up a lung and my nose running all over the place so how could it be worse than that, right? I'd probably have to use you as a human tissue.
[ Claire imagines he's had worse stuff smeared all over him. Also, retroactively, she realizes that she's babbling, which she stops by stretching her lips over her teeth. One of these days she is probably going to have to be the one to kiss him, and she doesn't know why it's got to be One of These Days when she knows it could be now and that would be fine. Not after that stunning display, though. ]
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[ Surprise, he's still a boy. Gross things?? Let's poke it with a stick. ]
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[ That, at least, is an instant response that requires no actual amount of thinking. Usually she is all for gross things, but the idea of a jar of snot is a little much for her tastes. ]
Could you even do anything with a jar of snot? [ And then she starts laughing. ] I can't believe this is an actual conversation I'm having.
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[ Trust him. ]
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I kind of do, and I kind of really don't.
[ To be clear: she's not asking for clarification. ]
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But, ]
I think I'll not tell you.
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And you're always trying to act like you're not nice.
[ Maaaaybe referring to more than just neglecting to talk about poop in a jar. Or whatever. ]
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[ Really transparently kidding; his voice has a softness to it that he would otherwise never admit to actually having. ]
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Your secret's safe with me.
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This is new.
He squeezes her hand. ]
I do have to get to work soon, [ he says, with enough reserve to sound a little regretful about it, for once. ] You'll be all right?
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