2019-04-13 - They Kinda Talked About Dreams

There is a cat sitting on the bookshelf nearest to the door that lays in wait for Alex, her tail swaying in expectation. As soon as he opens the door, she will pounce onto his feet, and weave between his legs in something akin to affection. Or, perhaps, in attempted murder. Blue Bell will closely follow him up the stairs as well because she won't let him move until he picks her up. And then, she goes limp in his arms, rumbling purrs.

The loft upstairs is quiet, the air slightly humid and smells of lavender, though Violet is no longer bubble-bathing. She is in the kitchen, wearing a pair of leggings and the shirt he left behind, her hair still damp but combed through and pinned up into a bun that clearly wasn't just spun together in a rush. There's a kettle on the stove, and it sings as he arrives, as though announcing his presnce.

Geez, cat. Alex will pick you up already. He lugs her on up the stairs with him, gently cursing her out in Spanish - as if she might understand him in English and rat him out for calling her names, even if he does it in a smooshy-cuddle voice. Just inside the upstairs, he puts her down with a little nudge of his foot, not interested in being tripped any more, so just shoo, kitty, go over there. He takes stock of the interior briefly after this, and there might just be a tiny bit of disappointment that bathtime's over, ho-hum.

But there's Violet, and he lingers a moment just to look at her appreciatively, before - well, the kettle sort of steals his thunder, there, so it's just, "Hello, Violet." Yes, he's dressed for work; what's he gonna do? Bike all the way from the hospital to his house then back downtown? Please.

The kettle didn't really steal his thunder; she heard him cursing in Spanish at her cat while he was still downstairs, thus proving it impossible to steal from her because sound travels. Check-mate, Alex-P. But she at least waits for the hello before she looks up at him and .. promptly breaks out into splotchy red marks all over her cheeks. She was embarrassed, that was obvious. Not about anything he did, but because she'd purposefully put on his shirt and purposefully made sure her hair didn't look like a wreck and even purposefully thought of staying in the tub and all of that purposefulness gets her flustered when she realizes it all.

"Hi," she manages, turning off the burner and then shuffling on bare feet to peck him on the corner of his mouth. "Sorry, I.." she waves vaguely at herself. "It was the first shirt I found. I fixed the button!" Yes, let's talk about the button.

Alex could totally steal from Violet. Just FYI.

Boom, fuck you bitch.

This may be the very first apology that Alex doesn't just dismiss out of hand. Instead, in the immediate aftermath of the quick-kiss hello, he gets as far as, "About wh-" But then Violet explains, so of course, "Don't be. The shirt clearly wants to belong to you." He doesn't help with all her blushing about all the things she did on purpose, since he catches an arm around her while she's close, nuzzles her blushing cheeks, and insists, "It looks better on you." So there.

He won't keep her over here too long, just shadow her back to the kitchen for the tea, with only one last, forlorn glance bathtub-wards, le sigh~. "I'm glad you sent me a message. I was," dithering, "not enjoying my day." His smile is fond when it settles on her, eyes softening and everything. "You've improved it already."

As it turns out, Violet did not jump from the cliff for the sole purpose of being able to die right here.

Okay, so not quite, but the heat radiating off her cheeks was probably strong enough to warm up the entire apartment. "Oh, it's.. fine, it's just fine," she stammers. As embarrassed as she may be, she still easily tips into his arms and leans her flaming cheek into him, parting back to her tea kettle with a smile on her lips. If he wasn't too busy staring into her bathroom (WHERE THE GODDAMN PILLS ARE), he might notice that she was favoring her right leg as she inches back to get the cups down from the cupboard.

"I wasn't really enjoying my day either," she admits with a crinkle of her nose, casting a softened look back over her shoulder to him. The smile remains, deepening the dimples on either cheek, "The feeling is very mutual, Alex. Do you want sugar?" Probably in his tea.

They are, though. God damned pills. The Bible says so.

Sure, Alex notices the limp, since he still fails to notice the pills. That's the reason his brows draw together briefly, but he answers the question about sugar before gets to asking one back at her. "Oh, very much so. Unless you mean in my tea, in which case - no, I gave it up for Lent." And yet still with the condoms. So maybe he won't go to the WORST hell? Just, like, the sorta-bad one? "Are you okay?" He points to Violet's right leg specifically.

"Oh, well --" Violet begins about the sugar, words failing her after when he clarifies. It takes a second or two with her lips still parted before the words and meaning click together, and a lopsided grin makes the dimple on one of her cheeks deepen prominently. "I was going to say, I don't have any. Sugar. For the tea!" Because it was important to clarify. She has lots of other sugar for him 😉 "It takes away from the taste of the herbs and it's really bad for you and.." she would rattle on, but he's pointing to her leg and distracting her.

Her gaze follows his finger down to her leg, the smile rapidly slipping away. "I'm fine," she decides, inching forward to bring him his teacup and curl both of her hands around the one she keeps for herself. It was a green tea, it smells like citrus. "It's just a .. I put some cream on it, antibacterial. And a band-aid."

Alex takes the tea, thank you, and kisses Violet in the one dimple, also thank you, and leaves it at, "This tea smells wonderful." Then head-tilts over toward the sofa, where they can presumably sit down and drink tea and share sugar. After they get through the parts about how they got battered-and-bruised in their dreams.

Which is addressed first, since, settling down, he invites, "It's just a...?" He shifts his cup to just one hand, showing Violet the flush of pale bruises across the knuckles of his right hand. "I woke up like this. Or, I suppose, I became conscious like this? Hmm." Language fails on this one.

Violet manages to catch the side of his chin with a kiss of her own before he's retreating to the sofa and she takes a moment just to admire him as he walks away. Then she catches herself staring, clears her throat, and follows suit, setting her cup down while she tucks in beside him on the sofa. "Just a .. bite, I think. Maybe a scratch," she frowns, reaching down to idly rub at the top of her calf. "There was a lot of blood. But I washed it off and I don't think it needs stitches," says the girl banging the doctor, which makes her basically doctor by injection maybe?

But then he shows her his, the sight of the pale bruises drawing a frown onto her lips. "Did you try to hit something?" As her hands were free, she scoops his up, laying a soft kiss to his knuckles. Not a healy-kiss, but just a normal one. "You found your way out though. That's good."

"I still don't know if that's true." That he found his way out, he means. "Both times, something woke me up. My phone, the nurse." But Alex shakes his head, not obsessing over this one detail (yet): "Two points of data do not a pattern make." But one Violet-kiss does a happy Alex make, even if the subject beneath the kiss she gives his hand is dark and confusing; he follows up the kiss with his bruised knuckles lifted, sliding across her cheek gently, grazing up and down a couple times... but before he gets all distracted thinking about sugar!

He sets aside his own teacup. His, "May I?" is not a real question, because he's going to shift so he can pull her foot over here, regardless. She could kick him or something, but assuming she doesn't, he intends to look at this war-wound of hers, to peel the legging up gingerly and see what it's hiding.

If she does kick him, though, plz not in the face or the dick, he needs the one to be pretty enough to get to use the other.

"I didn't find anything of Alice's this time. I mean I saw her, and I heard her voice but.." Violet hesitates, lashes lowering as she remembers the words spoken to her, a slim tremble running down her spine. She leans into the bruised knuckles that touch her cheek, seeking solace there. Comfort. "It was the man that sold us the seashells on the boardwalk. He.. he grabbed me, he .." She didn't want to say 'woke her up' because that didn't seem right to say. "I don't think I would've gotten out, if it hadn't been for him."

Then he was reaching for her leg. Perhaps it is the 'May I' that keeps her from kicking him in the dick AND the face. But there is some tension that gathers in her shoulders as he starts to peel her leggings up. "I'm sure it's all right," she offers her medical opinion to the doctor. Beneath the legging is ... a large strip of gauze, covering almost her entire calf. So much for a 'band-aid'. But if he opts to remove that as well, he'll see the damage - several punctures, one of which was just above her Achilles tendon and slices down. A bit deeper and a quarter of an inch lower, and it would've severed it. The marks were puffy and still ooze, and were likely going to become infected.

Violet doesn't look. She instead turns her attention up to the popcorn ceiling. Look how pretty!

"I remember him." The homeless guy, Alex means. Things like that stick with a person - since he damn near ruined that whole night by asking about a different set of Violet's war-wounds immediately after that encounter. This is becoming a pattern! "He wasn't...?" Again, Alex lacks the proper language for this, and casting back through his memories, he doesn't seem to recall the homeless buy being sparkly - but also, he was preoccupied, so it's entirely possible he just missed that bit.

Like, right now, he misses Violet looking up at the ceiling for a second, since he's focused on the reveal of this damage. It's awkward, so he winds up sliding off the couch and crouching next to it, holding her foot in one hand, fingers of the other hand behind her knee, turning her leg gently. He doesn't hiss in a breath or wince or react pretty much at all, just lowers his head and carefully removes all the hard work she did, wrapping up the owie. "What caused these?" he asks in a neutral tone, a question he's asked so many times, he can't even begin to reckon them all. Then there's a laugh out his nose, which is not part of the usual questioning: "In the dream, I mean."

"He wasn't..?" Violet's pale golden brows raise up in subtle arches before she ventures a guess to fill in the blanks. "Like us?" Her shoulders roll in a scant shrug. "It was a.. a dream. I was somewhere else. It might not have really been him at all. Just a way out, a reminder not to get lost." She lifts her hand to her collarbone as she speaks, touching something through the shirt. It's an easy way to keep herself focused on anything that isn't her leg, as he moves to the floor to inspect it further.

As to the cause, "I don't know. I was running away from.. people, I think. But they weren't chasing me. The shadows were," she keeps her voice low, as though she fears someone else may hear her. The laugh that comes out of his nose has her eyebrows lifting higher. "It's all right, isn't it? I'll change the band-aids. Put cream on it every couple of hours."

Bedside manner. Alex has it. "It's all right," he assures gently, dropping a small kiss onto the ball of Violet's knee, well above any of the icky-damaged bits of her leg. His chin props there for a moment, listening to the explanation about the homeless guy with the seashells, though - no lie - it doesn't really explain anything for him. He's still a novice at all this insanity, after all, but he accepts her explanation without an argument.

"You did the right thing." With the homeless guy? With the band-aids and cream? "I don't think I can fix this, not entirely, but I can make it so it won't get infected. I think." He's absolutely not about to be all kissing her open wounds, not even close to it, but he will get up and go into the bathroom and ask, "Rubbing alcohol, cotton balls, and gauze?" This is definitely going to sting a little, Violet.

Does Alex kiss all the knees like he kisses Violet's now? Because if so, he must be a very popular doctor. There's a breathy sigh that follows the touch of his lips, shoulders relaxing into the cushions. She still wasn't looking at her knee, but his eyes were really pretty from this vantage point when he props his chin; it's a good thing she didn't fuck up his face by kicking him. "Okay," she says of fixing-but-not-fixing, wincing at the talk of all the items he needs because it just sounded like it was gonna sting.

"Are you sure we shouldn't be more worried about your hand instead?" she offers up, but she knows he's not going to relent. "It's all in the medicine cabinet. Above the sink. I hope you don't think I brought you over for free medical advice.." she frowns to herself. He might notice the book on the backside of the toilet, next to the big tub. The one on 1920s medical intervention. Great book.

Alex might notice a lot of things in that bathroom. You know, while he's going through her medicine cabinet for legitimate reasons. But he's not going to speak to most of them, just going to come back out of the bathroom with all the supplies he needs to make Violet's leg hurt super-bad, asking, "Why are you reading a book about medicine in the 1920s?" While on the john, Violet, do tell.

More than anything, the topic is meant to distract her while he does doctor-things to her leg. And a little bit of psychic-things to her leg. He does the psychic-things first, which has the effect of cooling down that angry scrape, of at least cleaning out the oozing and putting away the likelihood that she's going to wind up with an infection and the blood poisoning that would be sure to follow. The doctor-things involve rubbing alcohol and cotton, so that's when it would be best if Violet was keeping herself distracted by explaining what she learned about archaic medical devices. At least all of it is done gently, and also she can totally put her foot on his shoulder for a minute while he kneels next to the sofa, which would be hot under the right circumstances. Too bad these aren't them. 🙁

"I'm pretty sure the question should be why wouldn't you read a book about medicine in the 1920s?" replies Violet, her funny for the day. It makes her giggle, at least. Screw him if he doesn't join in on the laughter.

It's a good-bad thing she wasn't wearing a skirt, because she'd totally be playing sexy-in-the-wrong-circumstances peekaboo with him when she puts her foot up onto his shoulder. But she was wearing leggings, so sux 2 b him. "I like history, I always have. Did I tell you I wanted to be an anthropologist? That's what I went to school for, anyway," another useless degree holder, right here and now. "I like to read about how things were, and how they've changed through the years. I mean the 1920s weren't that long ago, relatively speaking, but our approach to some things and the rationale behind it.. it's fascinating," she appears thoroughly distracted from the alcohol, although there's a minor discomforting crinkle to her nose. "Besides, I thought it would be a good conversation starter. Like.. what are your thoughts on leeches, Doctor Reyes?"

In the back of his mind, the bit that's not cleaning up that gash, Alex curses whoever invented leggings. "You did," he answers of the anthropology thing. "I'm not actually sure what anthropologists do. Other than teach the next generation of anthropologists. So what was your career-path before you veered off-course and wound up selling bicycles and old books?" He looks up from cotton-dabbing, smiling apologetically for his lack of knowledge about this totally useless profession; please, enlighten him, Violet. He's absolutely paying attention and not just making a mess of cotton-balls on her coffee table next to the rapidly cooling cups of tea. "Leeches," while he puts away the rubbing alcohol, makes with the gauze, "are making a comeback. I don't have much cause to use them, personally, but apparently they're all the rage in plastic surgery. When," distractedly, "was the last time you had a tetanus shot?" ASKED EVERY DOCTOR EVER.

Oh, and he totally courtesy-laughed at her dumb joke up there. Haha, she's hilarious.

"What was my career path?" Violet scrapes her teeth across her bottom lip thoughtfully, rolling her shoulders into the couch cushions to lay a bit more comfortably. Her eyes remain steady on his own, pointedly not looking at what he was doing to her leg. "I was going to get my doctorate. And.. teach," thereby affirming his understanding of anthropologists. It makes her laugh, just a little. "But I was going to teach in Rome. Or Africa. Or some other exciting place," not even the tone of her voice held any hope left for dreams unachieved. "But I like it here, all things considered. Selling my old books and bicycles," she cants her head to make her smile crooked. There's some other things she wants to say, but they are left unspoken.

"Are you serious?" About the leeches, her nose crinkles again. "I'd prefer no leeches if we can avoid it here." And then he asks about her tetanus shot and her brows crumple. "Uhm.. I.. don't actually know."

Alex would normally be thrilled about all this eye-contact she's making. But his own eyes are preoccupied right now, with ripping off pieces of medical tape and using them to hold on pieces of gauze. And maybe also occasionally with the shape of Violet's calf, though he keeps his hands from doing anything other than the business of finishing her bandage. "I have a feeling," he says intently, looking from the nearly-finished bandage to Violet and her crooked smile, "that you would find a lot more leeching in Africa than Gray Harbor. So you may have at least landed in the right place, all things considered."

With a big, overdone sigh, he starts up from his kneeling, collecting all the detritus of that little operation and shaking his head. "No one ever does." Seriously, he looks at her and shakes a finger, the others holding on to used cotton balls, "You should go get one." And boops her crinkled nose.

It was a nice calf to look at, so that should be a consolation for failing to enjoy the eye-contact. She did a lot of walking and it shows! Anyway, there's a quiet laugh at the talk of leeches in Africa, her gaze briefly falling to his hands now that she was certain he's secured the bandage. She bites her lip again, right there at the corner, to keep her smile from growing any wider. Of course, dropping her focus just means she misses it when he brings his own eyes up, thus ruining his desire for eye-contact once more! "I suppose," she says of Africa. "Maybe I'm right where I should be."

She lowers her foot when he starts to stand up, though she doesn't let him get very far into the standing. She shifts to the edge of the sofa and cups his cheeks in her hand, to kiss his lips in thanks after he goes and boops her nose. "I will," she promises. "Thank you," she says, and says it again with another kiss.

It's not till after he gets the first kiss that Alex agrees, "Maybe," she's right where she should be, a quick wink in between the first kiss and the second. Normally, this is where he'd do things like get his hands all in her hair, bun or not, but his hands are full of used cotton balls and gauze, so... Answering the kiss hands-free will have to suffice. He does a pretty good job of that, despite the handicap, making that second kiss into a way bigger deal than it needed to be.

Then, with a necessary breath, "I'm going to throw this away and wash my hands. And we can," he straightens up, one last peck, "get back to this in a minute." Oh, also, "You're welcome," he remembers way late.

Lucky for Violet, her hands aren't full of gauze and yuck, which means she's free to slide her fingers through his hair and scratch his scalp with her nails while he's busy taking her breath away with those few kisses. There's definitely some reluctance when he starts to pull back, but she lets her hands drop into her lap and lifts her gaze to watch him stand, a dimpled smile left in the wake of his lips. "Okay," she allows, and then waits until he's in the bathroom to work out her bun, combing her fingers through the still slightly-damp locks to get it to fall down her back. It was still all pale gold frizz, no Hollywood curls, but it would do.

"Do you want to stay for dinner?" she asks as he busies himself doing whatever it is doctors do in the bathroom, and busies herself by tugging down her leggings back over the bandage. "Maybe we could go out. If you want? Or we could order in, if you'd rather. Or we could cook something, or.." well, she couldn't think of another thing to add.

How is she gonna be all letting down her hair and then like 'we can go out'? Pale frizz or not, these are not things that coincide. And the juxtaposition is what leaves Alex blinking when he steps back out of the bathroom, hands all empty and dry now, rubbing together absently in the bathroom doorway during that blinking he does.

"Hello," he says like he hasn't been here for a half-hour or whatever already. He explains, "I've never seen you with your hair down and all your clothes on." So he'll just come back over to the couch presently, though he takes the long way back, walking around the entire sofa so he can take stock of this Whole New Look from all angles. Decisively, "We should stay in."

Assuredly, people leave the house with their hair down all the time so Violet probably thought this was an okay thing to do. Though, really, the whole 'we can go out if you want' talk was just because of what he said the other day. When he said they should go out. REMEMBER? She wasn't even getting off the couch yet, and she was definitely not dressed for 'dinner out'. Her hair was a whole other story.

"Um. Hi," she offers with a blink and a slow smile as he leaves the bathroom, his follow-up getting a flustered little laugh out of her. "Oh, gosh," she utters, briefly hiding her face with her hands, but it didn't seem to help stop the blush that was getting her face all red. She drops her hands back down into her lap just as he was walking behind the couch, and she cranes her neck to watch him, biting down on her bottom lip again, while furiously tucking strands of errant pale gold locks behind her ears. "It's just hair. I let it down all the time. When I'm at home," and therefore by herself. "Are you sure you want to stay in? Because I have more fish sticks.." As though that's going to be the appeal here.

It's not nice to take pleasure in someone else's discomfort, Alex. He should definitely not be grinning when she hides her face like that, and he absolutely should not come over and help with the hair-tucking for the sole purpose of tracing his index finger along the shape of her reddened ear. And he 100% should not then lean down and put a kiss just below that blushing ear, right at the pulse-point of her neck. But he does all those things, even if he shouldn't, because he thinks she's cute when she blushes and - frizzy or not - the blonde hair does it for him.

"It's not just hair. It's your hair." So there. And he'll just be easing back onto the sofa with Violet now, totally paying attention what she's saying about fish sticks. "We should have those." Just not right now. Obviously.

It wasn't all discomfort, at least. There's the uneasy squirm into the cushions when she catches the tail-end of that grin, after her hands fall back into her lap .. and there's the fire that flames all the way to the tips of her ears when he comes to tuck back her frizzy locks. But there was nothing discomforting about the kiss he leaves upon her skin, where her pulse was rapid-firing away. "Alex.." there's a brief bout of shy laughter, but that fades into something of a whimper that catches in the base of her throat, and she lifts her hand to run her fingers down the spot where he kissed once he's away and sitting back on the sofa again.

She easily slides closer, until her thigh brushes against the outside of his own and she can fit herself into the side of him, sinking there comfortably. Perfectly. "Can I.." she stalls, worrying her bottom lip again, as she lifts her blue gaze to his darker ones. "Can I ask you something? Something.. something kind of serious?"

Alex will just be doing things to her hair for a minute, winding pieces around his index finger as far as he can get them without overlapping, then unraveling them carefully. Not that they hold the shape, but he's entertaining himself, and that's what matters. That's with one hand; the other settles lightly along her upper arm once she's tucked in properly, giving her a small and comfortable squeeze.

Since her lip-biting doesn't seem like the sexy kind, he pauses this whole business of petting her, unwinding a last lock of hair from his finger and leaning back enough to bring his eyes appropriately around to hers. "I would hope so." He starts to leave that answer there, unqualified, but - after a moment, looking into those big blue eyes - adds, "Yes, of course."

It was a nice distraction, the things he was doing to her hair, from the panic-flutter of her pulse that comes after the decision is made to ask him if she can ask him something. Then he goes and unwinds his fingers, and she's left without the distraction and just with the part that makes her nervous. Great, she can ask. She's really stepped in it now. "Okay," she says, laying her palm against his leg, and it may seem like that's it. Like she just wanted to know if she could, at some point, ask him about serious stuff.

But it wasn't. Her fingers walk down his leg to his knee and slide back up again, before she breathes out a sigh. "Are we.." her voice pitches up into a squeak at the 'we', too high. She clears her throat and tries again, somehow keeping her gaze level with his own. "Are you.." that's better. ".. going to see other people? Like the way you see me? Or maybe.. maybe already are?" she quickly clarifies, "Not that I'm asking anything about us. Just.. just about you. Because of the condoms, you know, I just thought .. maybe.." He was protecting other girls from her crAaAzy.

Alex waaaaits this out. He's a patient person, he'll just sit here quietly and let Violet get around to whatever kind-of-serious thing she needs to ask without him doing anything other than sitting there and looking at her. Which, come to think of it, may not be the kindest or most helpful way to ease someone into feeling comfortable enough to ask, but that's what he does; sits there, looks at her, and is patient. So when she starts to speak, he leans his head in her direction expectantly, so ready for this question now.

So when she manages to get that question out? And the clarification that follows? He winds up laughing gently, his eyes softening with unabashed affection for poor, darling Violet and her misconceptions. "No," he answers readily, leaning over and pressing a kiss into the side of her head, into the hair that he's been all-up-ons the last couple minutes. "I'm not seeing anyone else, and I'm not planning to. The condoms are precautionary. Were precautionary." With the amused brow-lift there. "Because now I know that you're on the pill."

Oh, he was laughing at her. That also probably wasn't the kindest, most helpful way to make someone easy about questions they were having difficulty asking. Her hands immediately go up in surrender as the laughter starts. "No, no, please. Just forget I said anything, it's a silly.." she starts, sputtering out when he answers and follows it with a kiss to the side of her head. She takes a breath through her nose and slowly out through her mouth, trying to calm the rampage that is her beating heart at the moment. "No?" she adds a verbal question mark to his response, a quiet uncertainty. But then he talks of precautions and birth control and her brows fall into an adorable furrow. "What does that have to do with.."

Oh.

"Oh," there's the realization, blue eyes widening. It takes a tick or two of time before the smile approaches her lips and spreads, dimpling either cheek. "You never asked, you know. And I sure didn't know how to bring it up and you know Jane from the pharmacy is going to ask you out but.." But, but. She could go on. She instead opts to climb into his lap and give him at least a few reasons why she's a far better catch than Jane from the pharmacy.

No? "No." Alex reiterates this, absolutely and without hesitation. The amusement is still there, the tail-end of the laughter that her charming angst about this whole situation set alight in him. It continues to linger, brightening the dark eyes that hold onto her wide blue ones, when she finally puts the pieces together all by herself, and no amount of folding his lips is going to keep them from doing anything other than smiling broadly at her.

The repeated, "Oh," comes while he tucks her hair back from her face for her, bumping his knuckle into the dimple on this side of her cheeks. "You might have volunteered the information at any point. Perhaps the point at which I really wanted to have sex with you in my office," still does, btw, "and couldn't?" The whole thing about Jane the pharmacist starts to make his brows pull together, but the whole thing about Violet climbing onto his lap makes even the fleetingest, confusedest interest in the subject of Jane the pharmacist wither on the vine. He will absolutely spend the rest of the afternoon in Violet's couch.

And her bed.

And in the morning some helpful piece of furniture in the shop because he's not really good at leaving.