[ Severus feels detached from the subject, but it's better than the tense almost-fighting of a few minutes ago. He's not actually passionate about teaching, but he feels quite a bit about education. It's awkward, sometimes, the imbalance of how he operates concerning it. ]
As I've said before, I'm in charge of a hundred students. [ He leans forward on his elbows, hands moving, echoing his verbal words. ] There are more effective magical aids, but they're extremely difficult for children to use, and they can't be used in the outside world.
[ She finds it interesting in an abstract sort of way; the same way in which she still finds little transfigured things incredible and the details of his world's history something she wants to know about despite how bleak it's been. ]
I'd almost expect them - [ Whoever they are. ] - to have something that would make that easier here, on the ship. The technology that we do have is advanced enough. [ She chews her lip in brief thought. ] Would they interfere with outside technology? Aids from your world, I mean.
[ Severus agrees, only partially because he doesn't think he knows what an eyepod is. Magic, to him, is the pinnacle; he's proud of it, and here, he's been very defensive of it, too.
(Should it be sad, that someone who loves magic like he does won't ever love him? He doesn't let himself think about it.) ]
I've only used sign language briefly, teaching. I've not kept up with it well.
[ Sitting up the rest of the way, Claire pushes her hair back behind her ears and rolls her sleeves back up. She folds her legs and straightens her back. ]
Teach me something.
[ It isn't magic, but she thinks she can get behind it. ]
[ Severus if that is going to be your reaction every time you say these things then why do you say them? Not that she's complaining, but her hand does drop down to her knee, making a dull slapping sound, and she kind of cocks her head at him and -
Fuck it.
She is reasonably certain that he's not going to startle and that it's not going to be unwelcome, but an electric shock of doubt does jolt her as she leans her palm into the grass for balance and tilts forward onto her knees in a fluid motion. They're sitting close enough that she doesn't have to rise up to kiss him, so she just does it before she can talk herself out of it. It's chaste, brief, more at the corner of his mouth given the angle she comes in at and the fact that her hand in the grass where it's attached to her wrist kind of feels like putty but it's been long enough coming that she's pleased with her decision to have done it even if she's half-expecting it to backfire. ]
[ Severus doesn't startle. Stupidly, he feels like time slows down when she moves closer to him, because part of his brain registers what she's doing and what her aim is and-- it doesn't compute. Despite everything.
He stills, almost freezes, but doesn't completely lock up. He has to take a moment after she moves back to look at her, too-close and out of focus, as though he's deciding whether or not this is actually happening.
Like muscle memory. Severus has never dated anyone but he's kissed people, his sexuality hedged and highlighted in strange places, leaving him awkward more about sincere emotions than anything else. (The anger with which he shoved William away is something entirely different, and not at all present in his mind.) He moves a little, slightly forward, and presses his mouth against hers. Again. ]
[ There was this moment in her dorm room, after Gretchen had kissed her, where she had lingered in the gap of a heartbeat with her mouth hanging open and her stomach somewhere down around her shoes, and it had seemed like hours spent not having any conception of what to do or how to react. Everything even remotely resembling that offer up until that point - and then again beyond it - had been a disaster, and it's impossible to grab onto the corner of one thought when your head is moving that quickly.
The benefit of having that experience is that encountering it for a second time in a year's span means that the reaction time doesn't crawl to a relative hour or two. She doesn't know what to do but she does because she's already made the decision a long time ago that if she wanted to do something even for the sake of just doing it in this capacity then she was going to.
Her muscle memory is not as practiced. She's never been particularly comfortable with intimacy, no matter how chaste, but Claire has already acknowledged the fact without giving it a name that she kind of likes him a lot, so what she lacks in experience she's more than willing to make up for in enthusiasm. Of course, enthusiasm for her, here, is tentative; it's the extension of her hand to catch his shirt sleeve and curl her fingers there, walking out onto a bridge carefully to test that it won't break. Maybe it will. She doesn't know. She tries not to think and just makes a small sound, something like relief.
This tension is decidedly much better than what had been here previously.
[ He holds still while she moves, shifting after she does so that he can reach out to press one palm against her side. Supportive, but also very gentle-- he doesn't want to seem uncertain, just not rushed. Severus isn't going to yank her closer or anything, but he's not going to run away if she wants to move.
It's surreal. Severus feels like it's incongruous with them nearly arguing; it's not like any other experience, with that negative energy being what he was meant to feed off of. Is she instead telling him that it's fine, it's not a deal-breaker every time something happens? He's not used to it. That moves him more than anything, more than her kissing him. He nudges closer, movements soft. ]
[ Her propensity for smoothing things over probably stems from listening to her parents scream at each other about her, as their marriage dissolved, but she doesn't think that has anything to do with kissing him. Claire knows that things don't ever go away, that you just table them for another time, but she also knows there are more important things than letting the bad kind of tension win. She's had her reluctance - because of the divorce, because of her ability, because of her everything on a list of everythings - but it's irrelevant, and she isn't surprised to find that the touch at her waist is warm.
Eventually she needs to come up for air, which is a slow process not least of all because she's always hated this part. You stand there with a swollen mouth and pink cheeks and your eyes bright and huge and dilated and you're supposed to have something really good to say. This time she's resolute in her decision not to sit there gulping at the air like a fish. Her break away is not immediate: she lets her hand fall down to his elbow, thumb pressing into the crook, before she pulls back. Involuntarily, she presses her lips together and then looks at him as directly as she can. ]
You were never gonna do it.
[ She has to smile then because what could she possibly say that would be a worse choice than that? ]
[ That makes Severus sort of smile, something that's a bit shy and self-depreciating with a hint of a cringe in there, too. He glances down but manages to look back up by the time he's finished speaking. ]
Not out of disinterest. It's just-- my track record.
[ .. Is terrible, and probably not something he should describe in any detail. Also this is insane, because Claire has to be insane, because what the hell. She's about a thousand miles out of his league. He's trying not to look as shy-interested-excited-embarrassed as he is, but. ]
I suppose I- just-- [ he's not stuttering but words, what the fuck. Ehem. ] Men shouldn't assume.
[ It is not at all the reaction that she wants to have in the absolute slightest, especially as how they are practically sitting on each other and her face is still very close and well within proximity for scrutinizing, but Claire feels the corners of her mouth tighten before she has a chance to get a handle on it. Not enough to dislodge the expression she's already wearing but she knows there's a distinct shift in her temperament, even if it's for just a second. And it's not Sylar. It's Brody. People always forget about him, but he's always there, lurking, and everything that came after, too.
She doesn't want that, though, and she's completely warmed in a way to even hear that come out of his mouth, and just barely, which is in itself kind of flattering and undeniably endearing, given how articulate he is. Claire scoots closer, so her leg is flush with his and the grass stains the pocket of her jeans. ]
To be fair, my track record is pretty terrible, too. [ As she all but shouted at him back when they were barely speaking. ] That's the first time I've ever really initiated anything. And you - for the record - [ She is often overly serious and she knows that but is powerless to stop it, so she shakes her head a little, quickly, grin smaller but still bright. ] - you aren't assuming. Just - so you know.
[ It's doubtful that Severus could ever put into easy words why he feels the way he does about male sexual entitlement, uneducated and generally unaware of social politics, feminism, and things like that; it exists in his head, and to inspect it closer would be to look at his experiences, which he doesn't want to do. But it's there.
So when she says you aren't assuming he looks at her, plainly. If she's being overly serious he doesn't seem to notice. He stays quiet for a moment and then nods.
[ She's flipping through moods like magazines right now, unable to settle on just one but all of them bordering on some type of giddy contentment and ridiculousness once the seriousness of his previous comment and the look he affords her in return has had enough time to settle in. She imagines this might be what feeling high is like, but with no reference to compare it to could also be totally off base about it. Her head feels like it's buzzing, and she scoffs, trying to look offended. ]
Wow. You didn't hate it. Wow. Thank you, that's a very generous reassurance of my kissing skills.
[ She'll probably have to practice or something. ]
[ She would like to know all about that, actually. Armed with the knowledge that this is probably enough for one day, she doesn't press it in the slightest. More than anything, Claire is glad to see the honesty in that nearly-there-smile, enough that she doesn't need more. But she does lean forward further, following the slight touch of his mouth to hers with a firmer return. ]
You know what this means you've gotta do, though, right?
[ Really though. At least he doesn't sound terrified anymore? And he hasn't removed his hand from her side. He's half-holding her now that she's scooted closer. ]
[ Nathan could come back - from the dead and to the ship - and it would still be to soon. He could never have left and it would still be too soon. She's already planning to hold her breath throughout the entire duration of the next jump and just pray to whoever is listening that Noah Bennet doesn't show up. ]
Teach me swear words in sign language.
[ She leans into him. Congratulations on your choice in women, Severus. ]
[ There are other things to think of. Like Lily, or what'll happen to the way Claire's treated if (when?) the Marauders find out, and a hundred other things.
Instead Severus laughs a little in an exhale. Fuck it. He's just going to have this small moment, this hour or so, before anything gets to be too much. He lifts his other hand and touches her jaw, brushing slightly calloused fingers across her perfectly scar-free skin. ]
Which is your favorite? [ --before she can answer he kisses her again. Properly this time. ]
[ Not necessarily a general rule, but Claire doesn't spit out expletives very often. Maybe it's part of that southern upbringing, all the yes ma'am's and no sir's that were ingrained in her since she was old enough to form the words. That isn't to say that she can't curse a mile wide and just as colorfully, and she's just about to explain why fuck is her favorite one when her mouth is very abruptly too occupied doing other things to recall what the shape of the word fuck tastes like. And then just -
Oh.
Okay.
Her brain is just going to go over here now, while her fingers find their way up from where they have been hovering around his elbow for the last two minutes to trip into the fabric folds in the front of his shirt, pad of her palm bumping into a button on its way to settle under the flap of his collar.
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As I've said before, I'm in charge of a hundred students. [ He leans forward on his elbows, hands moving, echoing his verbal words. ] There are more effective magical aids, but they're extremely difficult for children to use, and they can't be used in the outside world.
no subject
I'd almost expect them - [ Whoever they are. ] - to have something that would make that easier here, on the ship. The technology that we do have is advanced enough. [ She chews her lip in brief thought. ] Would they interfere with outside technology? Aids from your world, I mean.
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It's not as much interference as it is obviousness. Magic doesn't exist, remember?
Severus shoos the words away after a moment. ]
I don't know how all technology reacts with all magic. I try to avoid it.
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I would much rather be able to do that than charge my iPod.
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(Should it be sad, that someone who loves magic like he does won't ever love him? He doesn't let himself think about it.) ]
I've only used sign language briefly, teaching. I've not kept up with it well.
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Teach me something.
[ It isn't magic, but she thinks she can get behind it. ]
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Hello. Goodbye. Shut up.
[ Helpful. ]
Pretty.
[ Wow and now Severus looks like he might die a little. ]
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Fuck it.
She is reasonably certain that he's not going to startle and that it's not going to be unwelcome, but an electric shock of doubt does jolt her as she leans her palm into the grass for balance and tilts forward onto her knees in a fluid motion. They're sitting close enough that she doesn't have to rise up to kiss him, so she just does it before she can talk herself out of it. It's chaste, brief, more at the corner of his mouth given the angle she comes in at and the fact that her hand in the grass where it's attached to her wrist kind of feels like putty but it's been long enough coming that she's pleased with her decision to have done it even if she's half-expecting it to backfire. ]
no subject
He stills, almost freezes, but doesn't completely lock up. He has to take a moment after she moves back to look at her, too-close and out of focus, as though he's deciding whether or not this is actually happening.
Like muscle memory. Severus has never dated anyone but he's kissed people, his sexuality hedged and highlighted in strange places, leaving him awkward more about sincere emotions than anything else. (The anger with which he shoved William away is something entirely different, and not at all present in his mind.) He moves a little, slightly forward, and presses his mouth against hers. Again. ]
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The benefit of having that experience is that encountering it for a second time in a year's span means that the reaction time doesn't crawl to a relative hour or two. She doesn't know what to do but she does because she's already made the decision a long time ago that if she wanted to do something even for the sake of just doing it in this capacity then she was going to.
Her muscle memory is not as practiced. She's never been particularly comfortable with intimacy, no matter how chaste, but Claire has already acknowledged the fact without giving it a name that she kind of likes him a lot, so what she lacks in experience she's more than willing to make up for in enthusiasm. Of course, enthusiasm for her, here, is tentative; it's the extension of her hand to catch his shirt sleeve and curl her fingers there, walking out onto a bridge carefully to test that it won't break. Maybe it will. She doesn't know. She tries not to think and just makes a small sound, something like relief.
This tension is decidedly much better than what had been here previously.
no subject
It's surreal. Severus feels like it's incongruous with them nearly arguing; it's not like any other experience, with that negative energy being what he was meant to feed off of. Is she instead telling him that it's fine, it's not a deal-breaker every time something happens? He's not used to it. That moves him more than anything, more than her kissing him. He nudges closer, movements soft. ]
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Eventually she needs to come up for air, which is a slow process not least of all because she's always hated this part. You stand there with a swollen mouth and pink cheeks and your eyes bright and huge and dilated and you're supposed to have something really good to say. This time she's resolute in her decision not to sit there gulping at the air like a fish. Her break away is not immediate: she lets her hand fall down to his elbow, thumb pressing into the crook, before she pulls back. Involuntarily, she presses her lips together and then looks at him as directly as she can. ]
You were never gonna do it.
[ She has to smile then because what could she possibly say that would be a worse choice than that? ]
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Not out of disinterest. It's just-- my track record.
[ .. Is terrible, and probably not something he should describe in any detail. Also this is insane, because Claire has to be insane, because what the hell. She's about a thousand miles out of his league. He's trying not to look as shy-interested-excited-embarrassed as he is, but. ]
I suppose I- just-- [ he's not stuttering but words, what the fuck. Ehem. ] Men shouldn't assume.
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She doesn't want that, though, and she's completely warmed in a way to even hear that come out of his mouth, and just barely, which is in itself kind of flattering and undeniably endearing, given how articulate he is. Claire scoots closer, so her leg is flush with his and the grass stains the pocket of her jeans. ]
To be fair, my track record is pretty terrible, too. [ As she all but shouted at him back when they were barely speaking. ] That's the first time I've ever really initiated anything. And you - for the record - [ She is often overly serious and she knows that but is powerless to stop it, so she shakes her head a little, quickly, grin smaller but still bright. ] - you aren't assuming. Just - so you know.
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So when she says you aren't assuming he looks at her, plainly. If she's being overly serious he doesn't seem to notice. He stays quiet for a moment and then nods.
It's something important for him to hear. ]
I didn't hate it.
[ You know. Also for the record. ]
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Wow. You didn't hate it. Wow. Thank you, that's a very generous reassurance of my kissing skills.
[ She'll probably have to practice or something. ]
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I really liked it. I can't actually remember what it feels like to want to kiss someone. Before the war, maybe. I don't know.
[ Don't make him be honest about things, it comes out TOO REAL, Claire. ]
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You know what this means you've gotta do, though, right?
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--Too soon. ]
I have no idea.
[ Really though. At least he doesn't sound terrified anymore? And he hasn't removed his hand from her side. He's half-holding her now that she's scooted closer. ]
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Teach me swear words in sign language.
[ She leans into him. Congratulations on your choice in women, Severus. ]
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Instead Severus laughs a little in an exhale. Fuck it. He's just going to have this small moment, this hour or so, before anything gets to be too much. He lifts his other hand and touches her jaw, brushing slightly calloused fingers across her perfectly scar-free skin. ]
Which is your favorite? [ --before she can answer he kisses her again. Properly this time. ]
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Oh.
Okay.
Her brain is just going to go over here now, while her fingers find their way up from where they have been hovering around his elbow for the last two minutes to trip into the fabric folds in the front of his shirt, pad of her palm bumping into a button on its way to settle under the flap of his collar.
She hopes the dogs aren't watching this. ]