2019-10-03 - Late Night Boogey Call

Nicole didn't feel up to an entire shower, but, she felt obligated to de-stinkify herself at least a little. A bit of tropical smelling dry shampoo was tousled into her hair before she loosely gathered it back in a ponytail. As for the rest of her, a quick wash helps make her smell, and probably feel, a bit more human. Her face gets a thorough cleansing though, no makeup added after. She is wearing a pair of flannel pajama pants in gray and pale blue, and a matching pale blue tank top. After freshening up, she returns to the couch to wait for the delivery, pulling a velour blanket over herself for coziness. The TV is on, and she seems to be watching the food network channel like a zombie.

It takes Everett awhile before there's any sign of him. The perfect amount of time to make oneself presentable if they were so inclined. Last minute preparations for his arrival are signaled with a motorcycle burping, then down shifting as it prowls closer and parks just outside the trailer. There's a pause, for the large man to get off his bike and take a look around, then pick up the facial tissue pack from the seat where they were balanced between his legs, opening the bike seat and pulling out a shopping bag and closing the seat again.

With his prizes, Everett climbs the patio set, and knocks on the door.

Motorcycles are a familiar sound in the trailer park, so it alone does not signal Nicole to Everett's arrival. She sees the tall man from her window though, rising from her couch as he approaches her door. She opens it gently after the knock and smiling, says, "Everett. Please come in." She steps back into the room and lifts a hand to cover her mouth. She looks... sick. Pale skin, reddened nose and eyes are plainly obvious without the effort to cover it all up with makeup. "I should have worn a mask or something. If you get sick, I will feel horrible."

Turning his attention towards Nicole when the door opens, the big guy smiles upon first seeing her. There's a quick examination, noting her features, the changes from when she has make-up on. With the offer to enter, he ducks his head and does just that, shaking his head softly. "Don't. You gave me fair warning, Nicole. If I get sick its because I entered this den of malady," Everett looks around the living area, "knowing full well what I'm getting myself into."

His first destination is to the kitchen where he puts the Safeway bag down on the counter with the metallic clunk of cans. "Safeway's twenty-four/seven, apparently." His other hand drops of the six-pack of kleenex next to the bag. Which rustles when he searches inside and pulls out a plastic container of their 'homemade' soup collection. "I got chicken noodle," Everett tilts his head, long hair dangling, "It seemed the most appropriate."

Reaching towards the couch and the blanket there, she grabs it to wrap around her shoulders before she turns to watch Everett in her kitchen. She can't help but grin at the man there; his head nearly touching the ceiling, his wide shoulders helping to take up most of the small space. "I did give you warning, yes. God... I didn't even think of the time." She approaches the small counter created by the room divider and leans her elbow on it. "Thank you, so much. You brought extra?" Her eyes look to the cans he clunks down. "You really are so sweet for doing this. Not what you imagined for a first date, I imagine."

He smiles. Broadly, affectionately. At her, pausing his movements for a moment while he mulls over an answer. "A date's a date. I'll take it." And then he nods a couple of times, the uplift of his head causing his hair to brush the ceiling and makes him look up. "Uh. Yeah. Yeah, I bought extra, a few cans, for when I'm not here. Man, this ceiling is low", he adds under his breath. How deep voice rises again when he turns his attention back to her, "Bowl? I think this container isn't microwaveable." Peeling the lid off, the plastic lining keeping the chicken soup in is peeled off next and left on the counter. Then Everett opens thigh-high drawers looking for utensils. "So what's your favorite part of chicken soup? Broth or noodle?"

Biting her lip, Nicole looks up towards the ceiling, then to Everett. "Yeah... sorry. I suppose they didn't think men would be as tall as you, back in the 50s." Or that one wouldn't buy such a trailer if they were that tall anyway. "It's um... " She points towards a cupboard just over Everett's shoulder for the bowls. "It's not much, but, it's cozy. I feel... comfortable here." Her dark eyes watch him a moment before she answers. "Broth, actually. I think most people are all noodle. I like the broth and carrots most." Shrugging a shoulder she adds, "I'm weird like that."

"Is that how old this trailer is?" Everett pauses his work, if it can be called that spoon in hand, in the kitchen and takes another look around. "It holds up well for being really old", he returns his attention back to Nicole and offers, "Or you're good with your hands?" his smile a little wider at his word play. His expression turns to curious while he looks to where she's pointed, and fetches a bowl. Armed with the two items, and knowing now how she prefers her soup to be poured, Everett uses the wide spoon to keep some big noodles at bay, imperfectly. "No, I wouldn't say weird. Noodles are where most of the carbs are. Sick or not," he glances down at her, "it seems to do well by you."

Sliding the bowl around to her with both large hands, Everett smiles. "There. One cold soup. Unless you have a microwave in here somewhere. I don't want to go poking through your drawers too much." He lets a pause slip by then remembers, "Oh. But if you're off sick, someone's taking care of your place?"

"It was a bit run down when I got it. I've been fixing it up for a few years. Brought it with me from Arizona." Nicole looks around with a small smile, it is obvious she is proud of the home she has made here. "I took some classes on how to fix some of the things myself, hired out for the things I couldn't fix. I did the cosmetic stuff, mostly. Sanded and refinished the wood... there is so much wood in here...." She laughs, then starts to cough, covering her face with her blanket, keeping it thereafter. Her voice is muffled when she continues, as well as sounding rough and raspy. "Um... did the tile. Painted. Basic stuff. Pros did the electrical." Lowering the blanket she smiles. Perhaps the coy look doesn't work as well with the flu, but she tries. "I'm good with a lot of things." She winks at him.

Taking the soup in hand, there is another laugh, though this one is done with more care so she doesn't start coughing. There is a microwave on the counter, a small one. She pops open the door and sets the bowl inside, closing it then setting the timer. "All the luxury a girl could want, right? It's hard to live without a microwave." At least for her, it is. "Come sit down," she says, gesturing to the couch. "And yeah. Lacey is there and the part-timer we have, for the ones who couldn't reschedule. No one wants their hair done by Contagion Kate. And my drawers won't bite. You can sort through them all you want."

"There's a little more wood in here now," Everett murmurs, a soft smile growing to his lips while he looks around again, when she does. The laugh brings his attention back down, so its with a look of concern he gives her while she coughs. The wink has the desired effect; Everett glancing sideways for a moment and smiling broadly, "I just bet you are."

Following her movements, he pulls back his head, to lightly bounce it off the ceiling. "That's a microwave? I thought that was a breadbox or a safe or something. Yeah, no. If it required the stove..." he starts to say, then pokes a finger into the plastic wrapping keeping the six pack of facial tissue together, running his finger horizontally to widen the hole until it's big enough for him to take the top box off. Her invitation to take to the sofa is accepted, slipping his leather jacket off on his way, underneath a green tight tee shirt that matches his eyes. Folding his jacket, he leaves it on the kitchen counter to bring his tissue box. "Contagion Kate? Oh that. That I love," he says, dropping down on the far end of the sofa, though it doesn't look like any end could really be called far, and then puts the box of kleenex down before he holds his hands out, "C'mere. I'll cuddle the cold out."

She's sick, she's not dead, so when Everett quips about more wood, Nicole grins and lifts a blanket covered hand to her mouth again, whether because she thinks she might laughcough again or just to hide that grin, who knows.

She winces when he hits his head. "I'm so sorry..." she murmurs, looking apologetic. "I can cook alright enough, I just don't always have time to, or do not want to be on my feet longer if it's been a long day." The microwave dings and she carefully takes out the bowl, setting it on the counter then sliding it closer to her and setting the spoon inside. She does this while Everett makes himself more comfortable. He seems to practically take up half the couch himself, which causes Nicole to grin again as she turns with bowl held between blanketed hands. "Good thing you aren't claustrophobic," she jokes. "You aren't, are you?" Suddenly wondering if maybe she should have thought more about inviting a near giant to her home. "Cuddle the cold out... if that works, you will be my savior. This shit sucks." She pouts and walks over, placing the soup on the nearby table so she can get settled before lifting it again. Settled has her leaning against his side, feet curled up on the couch to fill up what little space is left between her and the other arm.

While he doesn't say anything about the graze to his head, Everett does make mention of his cooking skills. Or lack there of. "You just saw me cook for you. Practically." Pantomiming, he explains, "Open the package, put it in the microwave. If I had to follow a recipe I'd starve." There's a smile to his lips that suggests that he may be under valuing his skills, but not by much. His left arm is thrown over the back of the sofa while he leans back and watches her preparations, shaking his head softly, "No. I'm not scared of closets." He winks before adding, "Well, in my vast experience with the flu, it always sucks, and it's nice to have someone who'll come over with supplies." Once she's comfortable, his arm comes down from the back of the couch and slots itself around her waist over the blanket. There's a gentle pull to bring her closer, while he rests his head, his mouth and nose against her head and breathes in her shampoo with a throaty sound of approval. Then another of annoyance. "Colds do suck. But it finally gave us a reason to be together. I was climbing the walls waiting for you."

"Good thing you aren't the one making the sweets at the candy shop, hmm?" Nicole teases then shifts to snuggle closer when he moves his arm. "The remote is just there on the table," she says. That table is within easy reach for Everett if he so chooses. "It is exceptionally nice to have people willing to bring supplies. Especially when I was in denial about getting sick and didn't like, stock up." She has a small coughing spell, her mouth closed though, then eats some sop with a small bit of a slurp. A dainty one, if slurps can be dainty. She smiles at the bit of tenderness in smelling her hair. Thank goodness she used that dry shampoo! "Hard to say no to someone willing to brave germs to bring me stuff to feel better," she says sheepishly. "Sorry you had to wait so long. Things have been a bit crazy this week. Speaking of... how has your week been?"

"Oh, I couldn't do that," he says his deep voice a little muffled while he speaks into the top of her head where his lips rest. "The machines needed for that kind of stuff, multiplied by all the assorted candies we use. Man, mm." He pauses to give her a nuzzle. "It'd be all I'd do all day. I wouldn't have time for going to the gym or keeping an eye on things, or going on trips to Canada."

Peeking an eye open, the giant looks towards the television before shrugging both shoulders, "Honestly, I'm ok with whatever," he murmurs again, closing his eyes and keeping the snuggle tight. "There's something to be said, just for closeness like this. And if you're worried that you aren't attractive as near death as you are, I'm here to let you know that's not true."

Lifting his head from hers, Everett leans his head back slowly. It wouldn't due to bounce his noggin off her trailer walls. "Let's see. I had a little bit of business. I'm expecting fall and winter not to be big ice cream selling seasons. Then there were these red balloons everywhere, they got annoying so I dealt with some of that. And other then that, not all that much. Kinda like you, cramped up in here, I spend my time at home, but wallowing in my own self-pity."

"Do you have cotton candy there?" Nicole asks, looking up to Everett hopefully as she takes another slow slurp. "Have I asked you that before? Is that what you do all day? Gym, eye, Canada?" She smiles at him then asks, "what do you do in Canada? Someday.. hopefully, I will be able to be a more hands-off business owner. Have more time to myself."

She lets the television stay where it is, simple background noise about who has been chopped and mystery ingredients and what not. "It is nice. I.. you are like the poster-child for not judging a book by it's cover. I never would have guessed you to be so cuddly before." She eats a bit more soup then sets the bowl aside and reaches for a tissue. She can't gross-snot blow her nose in front of a man, so she just dabs at it and tosses it into the wastebasket that has been moved to sit by the couch at the other end for convenience. Three pointer.

"Red balloons? Like... 99 luft balloons?" Nicole asks curiously. "In your store?" Shifting again, she settles on her hip so she can more easily lay her head on his shoulder, now that she isn't holding soup. "Do you have colder weather fare? Like... hot chocolate.. mexican hot chocolate..., s'mores like things... Cupcakes... cakes... " She likes sweets.

Looking down, Everett's brows knot. Not with worry, but with a wistfulness before he shakes his head. "No. No cotton candy. Mostly the candy there is just stuff we add to things, like milkshakes or banana splits, and things of that nature. But we figured there might be enough of an ask for the candy by itself that someone would come in just for that. Like there's a street artist on the boardwalk. She likes chocolate covered marshmallows."

The arm around her waist untangles itself before he lifts it and runs a thick fore finger over her cheek and around her ear, watching his finger move. "Pretty much. I make a little money on the side driving over the boarder and back. That way I can funnel more of the candy shop's profits back into the shop. Having time for yourself is good. Its better if you have someone to spend that time with," he adds, tracing the shell of her ear with his finger. "At least I think so."

His lips give a twitch, a broader smile, and he nods, "I didn't count, but there were a few. No. The first one I saw was out of my loft window, it was tangled in the light lines. Then I saw a few more in town, it seemed like they were all leading somewhere, so I followed them. Up into the woods, there were a couple of us that followed them. That's quite the story I could tell, depends on how well you handle scary clowns." He nods softly at the last line of inquiry, "We do. For just this reason. Poutine for the Canadian visitors, that sort of thing -- finger food. Not really cakes and cupcakes though. I think there's another store in town that does that, and I didn't want to step on any toes. You know, go to a tuff war over cake flour distribution." The hand pulls away from stroking her ear and he shifts a little in his seat. All the better to replace his finger with his lips, biting with lip covered teeth, the tip of her ear and giving three tugs.

"Mm," Nicole murmurs. "You should have cotton candy. Everyone loves Cotton candy. There was a place I went to once... not here... that had the most amazing flavors, like, ginger peach and butter rum and stuff. I'll have to come in and see what other candies you have." She peeks up at him then. "Unless you want to deliver samples..., when I am better and can actually taste things more."

She doesn't ask about the over the border deliveries. She has known enough people who did slightly illegal things to know not to ask sometimes. If they want to speak on it, they will. If she had wanted to ask more, however, she would have been distracted by the balloons anyway. "You followed a trail of balloons into the woods? I would have been petrified to meet Pennyw- .... oh my god, did you meet Pennywise?" She is turning to look up at him, but the surprise in her voice makes her cough. She buries her face into her blanket again until they subside, laying her head back down with a pouty groan. "Tell me about scary clowns...." If she's laying with him, maybe she won't get too creeped out.

"That created an amusing scene in my head. Like, Westside Story over cakes." Her eyes close as his finger traces her ear and cheek, gasping when he leans in to nibble at the upper lobe. A shiver races down her spine, causing her to cuddle closer.

Nodding ever so softly, Everett mmms softly before pulling his head back enough to let her ear slip from his mouth. "Sorry," he murmurs, though his smile indicates he isn't in the slightest. "It's just that I know I shouldn't kiss you right now, but I also can't help myself." His voice softly delivered, so close to her ear, his head lifting, so he can trace where she was in his mouth with his nose. A soft, affectionate graze. He breathes in, and releases the held air with a contented sigh, wrapping his arm around her waist once again.

To prove he was listening though, he continues to whisper, while either tracing nose or lips over her ear. "Cotton candy, check. I'll see what I can do. And yeah. I did kinda meet Pennywise."

"There were a couple of other people there too, I think I said. A guy that talked crazy, with pink, spiky hair. A lady with high heels, in the mud. And this girl I kinda know, you might too. She's the regular DJ at the strip joint? She was there too." The entertainment of the shell of her ear exhausted, Everett moves behind Nicole's ear, to plant a kiss. That has to be a germ-free zone, if ever there was one. After this distraction, he resumes his story, his breath warm. "We trekked into the woods, found a cabin. There was a girl there with blood on her but she didn't greet us like a victim, so I was a little uneasy. Then the clown showed up -- he was the girl's victim. Apparently the girl was collecting these clowns? It's kinda hazy."

Everett keeps his lips near her ear as Nicole bites her lip, the shiver slow to settle. "Shouldn't kiss. No..." Her head swivels in gentle arcs. I slow-motion shake in the negative. She is thinking about it now though, certainly, despite her illness. The way his breath tickles against her, his deep voice a low rumble in her ear, makes it very difficult to stick to her convictions though. Her lips part and she exhales softly.

Perhaps it is the fever, perhaps he is making her swoon slightly, either way, the best way to talk about scary clowns to a girl is to do so when she is already in a bit of a hazy state. "Heels in the mud doesn't sound wise... Oh um.. Dj. I met her... Lyric. Fitting name for a DJ." Her eyes close again as he kisses behind her ear, her teeth catching her lip again. She lets out a soft hm at the feel of his breath in that spot, so often tucked away behind hair and not touched. Her eyes open as she tries to make sense of this story. "Was this a dream? Like... was there really a girl... collecting clowns?" Perhaps she missed the part about blood. "Why was she collecting them?"

"Mm," he agrees, a guttural sound that starts low and is caught in his throat. The hand around her waist pulls and holds her tightly against his large frame for a moment longer before withdrawing. His worked fingers are felt next sliding up the back of her neck, combing through her hair until he's able to palm the back of her head and his fingers close, grabbing a handful of her hair close to the roots and gently he pulls back, perhaps to see if she'll submit and offer her throat. And if she does, his other hand rises to cup the far size of her neck and pull her to him while he, too, bends down. Lips part before he tastes her neck, tongue kept in his mouth.

He steals the flavor of her, pausing there to emit another throaty sound. And then lets go of her, to flex and release his hands as he exhales his breath. "Whew. I'm forgetting you're sick. Damn. Whew." His head turns away, fixed towards the television while he fans himself with a hand, trying to calm himself down a little before he can answer. "Uh. Yeah. Lyric. That's her. And I don't know, I'm pretty sure I was awake. I don't know what the girl wanted with the clowns, but the impression that I got was that the girl, she had a shotgun the likes of which I've never seen before. And, uh. Someone, I think the women with the high heels, flung it away from the girl. With her brain." Everett pauses there, turning his gaze back and looking to Nicole dubiously.

Nicole lifts her blanketed hand to press to her upper chest as he holds her tight, fingers dancing along her neck and into her hair. Gathered up in a ponytail as it is, makes it easy for him to grab hold of her hair and tilt her head back. She lets him, opening her eyes to look up at him before he leans down to kiss her slender neck. The corner of her lip is bitten this time, and she lets out a soft, brief whimper as he tastes her, her chest rising and falling a couple times with breath s as deep as she can manage without coughing.

As he releases her, flexes and fans himself, she sits up a little to catch her own breath. "So um... is this how I manage to leave you wanting... that feeling you said you never felt? It took me having the plague?" She wraps her blanket around her and drops it out of one hand, lifting it to smooth some hair back towards her ponytail. Fingers settle against her neck then, right where his lips had just been. "Um..." Nicole starts. "Flung it away from her.. with her mind? Is that like um, stabbing a walrus with a pencil by using your mind?" She trembles a little and leans against him again, sliding her arm around his torso. She is comfortable with him, somehow, as if she had known this man for much longer than she has. She's not completely relaxed though. She has some trust issues, after all.

A sultry smile. Everett leans, and nuzzles his temple against hers, moving his hand from her hair while she readjusts her ponytail. Instead of returning on top of the blanket, he slips it underneath, but in the same innocent position around her waist to clasp her there. "I'm not sure you're to blame. I should be behaving better." He smiles a little wider, "You remembered though? That's adorable. I think it's just." His start and stop speech, the giant is hesitant, nervous. "I want to. I think that's obvious. And I could care less about getting a cold, or something. It's just that I'm trying to think about you. I don't know if you feel particularly in the mood. And I don't want you to do something you don't want to do." He rolls his eyes and sighs, heavily put upon. Lowering his gaze, he looks to her brown eyes, "Look. Let me put it this way: you know how I feel. Sick or not. But that's not why I'm here. When I say you're attractive, I mean it." He bites his bottom lip before offering, "I'll try to behave, yeah? Ok."

Clearing his throat, Everett murmurs, shaking his head a little, confusion on his features. When she shifts her position, so does he, so he's facing her. "Uh, what? No, I mean," he holds his fingertips to his temple and a look of concentration passes over him. "With her mind. I wouldn't have known it was her, or suspect it was her, but she then said that shotguns aren't for little girls."

"Maybe I should have let myself stay stinky," Nicole jokes, reaching under the blanket to find his hand and rest hers atop it. "Of course I remember. I remember most things you said, I think." She closes her eyes again, nuzzling against him as he rests his temple to hers. "I... yeah.. it's not the mood so much as... well, I would rather not start a coughing fit while, you know, I mean... yeah..." She wrinkles her nose. "Also.. I mean, physically, um, yeah. But I am one of those girls who usually likes to you know... know someone a little better and things." She nods when he speaks of trying to behave. "Only just enough though, okay?" She grins and turns to press a kiss to his cheek. That's safe, right? "PLus, The way I have been, I don't want to like, fall asleep on you and make you think it is because I am not interested. Cuz... if I do fall asleep? It's not that." She is rambling, possibly not even making much sense.

"Oh... cuz I swear in my dream that someone like without touching it, took a pencil from the table and jabbed it into the walru... no, seal's head. Seal. It was a big seal." She nods then. "Have you seen stuff like that before? Or, other strange things? What happened to the girl after?"

"I think you underestimate your sexual appeal," Everett jokes back. His hand doesn't stay lifeless; his ring finger lifting and wrapping around her fore finger, curling and squeezing. He grins broadly and nods understandingly. He rolls his lips into his mouth, perhaps to keep from laughing and when he's earned a kiss on the cheek, he looks down at her, emerald eyes sparkling. When he releases his lips, he's smiling broadly, "Oh, honey. It doesn't seem like it, but I feel the same way. I want to get to know you before I," his voice drops when he tucks his head down, "get to know you. If." Canting his head, he drops it back down to her neck where he murmurs, "But at least I know what that feeling of wanting more is like," his exhalation warm before he kiss the nape of her neck, pinching with his lips.

His eyes cast towards the television again when his head lifts, the curled finger under the blanket uncurling to favor instead, stroking the back of her palm. His head bobs, twice. "There was this woman I was dating, when I first got here. When she lost control things like that happened. I think she broke a my only chair." He turns his attention back, his eyes lifted, thinking, his expression stoic. "There were some garbage cans. And I think she might have caused some light bulbs to pop, and I think she might have caused some tremors by the ice cream pallor. She was." He mulls the end of that sentence over for awhile. "Special."

"Maybe I do..." Nicole murmurs about her underestimating herself. She smiles as his finger curls around hers and she plays her fingers against his much larger hand, meeting his gaze when he looks down at her. His words seem to reassure her a bit. She nods and when he drops back to her neck, she nuzzles against his hair a little. "If," she repeats after him. But when he speaks of that feeling of wanting more, her lips spread, her eyes closing. "And I'm not even trying.... Not that I like to tease. Well, maybe a little." His breath washes over her neck sending chills through her. The sensation is chased by the pinch of his lips against her skin. She hums and whispers, "I might owe you some teasing after this...." not that she's complaining.

"Lost control?" Nicole asks gently. She frowns then, looking back into his eyes . "Like in general or..." Pause. "Is that why you are no longer with her? I mean, that's.,.. kinda scary. Tremors?"

Unable to help himself, Everett grins broadly, "Mm-hmm. Maybe a little?" Turning his head, the big man scoffs softly with disbelief, before returning his gaze down to her, darting a look down to her lips first. "You can tease me all you like. But I think we'll like it better if we're allowing ourselves to go past teasing." His voice drops again when he takes a sultry tone, "I know I would, Bunny."

Shaking his head softly, Everett lifts his free hand to comb through his long strands and tuck it behind his ear. "No. In the sense that. Well, I don't like to speak poorly about people I once dated. Especially to someone I'm hoping to date. But it seemed to me that it happened when she was throwing a fit. Not all the time," he's quick to add. "But no, that's not why we broke up. I broke up with her because she was the kind of woman that I used to see, used to be with back." Everett pauses, then rolls his head, "Back in Florida." Releasing her hand under the blanket he shows her the back of his hand, the knuckles there, his numerical tattoo. "I'm. I didn't used to make the best choices. There were a lot of things that I could have liked about her, but some things I just don't want to go back to. Doing." He returns his hand under the blanket, this time, interlacing his fingers with hers and giving her a squeeze. "Tremors like. Like an earthquake, not like the little shivering you do when I nibble on your pretty neck," he adds, smiling softly to her.

"Maybe a little," Nicole reiterates. Noticing his gaze slip to her lips, she licks the bottom one briefly before biting it. She looks to his own, lifting her hand from under the blanket to touch not his lips (hands have germs) but his cheek. "Bunny?" Her voice is sort of sultry, underneath the ragged raspiness of flu. "Is that my new nickname? Sounds more fit for public consumption than Cuddlebutt." She giggles then starts to cough, turning towards him, leaning her forehead against his shoulder until she is able to fight them off again. This has her rolling to face the back of the couch, and him.

Lifting her head from his shoulder, she adjusts again to half lay on his lap, looking up at him. "It's not speaking poorly... is it? I don't think it is. not like that anyway. " She listens, nodding, then moves to touch those numbers on his fingers when he shows her. "What do they mean? I mean... half the people who live in this place didn't make the best choices... so, you are in good company. We just try to move forward, try to make better ones next time." She pulls his hand towards her, kissing one of those numbers lightly. " Looking up at him then, she asks, "not to bring things to a too serious point... but... I am curious what those things you don't want to do are. That way I can be careful to not do those things around you or with you? You know?" She is getting more tired as time goes on, that weariness beginning to reflect in her eyes as she gazes into his. She blushes when he squeezes her hand, either that or the fever has made her flush more, but the timing is too coincidental. "Yes well... you nibble nice and it tickles..." Her eyes cast down towards her knees, grinning.

"Maybe a lot?" Everett offers, coyly. He smiles broadly when she bites her bottom lip, which fades when the coughing spell begins. He looks at her a touch concerned even after she's recovered, then smiles again, "You're nice to nibble," he retaliates with. Before his eyes drop down to her lips again, and answering her questions, he speaks to them, not her. "Well. Bunny's a better name then Cuddlebutt, even if we're giving Cuddlebutt a workout right now. I just remember N-i-k-k-I is a no-no, so I'm trying to find something we both like. Fits. And, like you say, is suitable for the public."

"They're stand-ins for the alphabet. You know, 1 would be A, 2 B, 3 C and so on", Everett starts before he prys his gaze from her mouth and looks towards the TV once more before he continues. "Gangs use them to fill in for their groups, so they can wear their club identification without being obvious about it. In my case its 13 and 10." He sighs softly, and looks back towards her, flashing her a smile. "That's part of the not so great choices I made. I try to make better ones which is one of the reasons I'm in Gray Harbor, like you say, like most of the people here. As for the mistakes she made that you're worried about doing, I think you're ok on that front. If I was worried, I'd let you know you're doing something like Lex."

"Maybe a lot, sometimes," Nicole admits with a smile. She is laying across his lap now, cuddle against his stomach. One arm is behind her head, giving it some additional support as she looks up at him. "You can call me Cuddlebutt sometimes. In private." She winks then covers her mouth with her forearm, yawning. "Yes, not the N-I- double k - I. No one good ever called me that. Pretty sure it is a cursed name... So, Bunny it is. If you're good, I might even wiggle my tail for you."

She starts to count then, using the fingers on her one free hand. She mouths, 'M. J.' but those letters seem to not mean anything to her. "Bad choices are good for one thing... to learn from. Sounds like you have. Learned and moved on... to a sweet shop." She smiles then nods. "I will take your word for it. I don't think I know her. " Even in a small town, it's possible.

"If I fall asleep on you, you are welcome to stay, or leave if you get bored, or whatever... and before I forget, thank you so much for coming to my rescue today." Who knows what she would have done without soup, tissues, and neck nibbles.

Letting the remainder of it go, Everett smiles like he won something rather than conceded it. And when she moves once more to get comfortable, so does he, sliding down the sofa and while it isn't long enough for him, he drops one leg down to the ground, the other folded underneath that leg so his booted feet aren't on sofa cushions. He has no problems having Nicole on him, or using the armrest as a headrest, and slipping his free hand under the blanket too after she mentions it, and resting his splayed fingers and palm against her behind without other formalities, like squeezing. No matter how much he might want to. "Ok. Cuddlebutt, but I do like the idea of this wiggling." He grins so broadly, rolling his eyes up and shaking his head, "I. I just can't believe I missed your dance on the stage. You have no idea how hard I've been kicking myself over that." Looking back down at her, his eyes narrow, pleased, "Though. I like how things have turned out."

"You don't have to thank me," he murmurs, looking down in an unconscious show of embarrassment. "There's Nyquil in the bag too, just in case. I'm not good at being a knight in shining armor, so. I'm glad it worked out. You can call me for anything you need. I hope you know that. As for my choices, yeah I like to think I learn from my mistakes. How about you? You know almost everything about me, but Arizona to here, it's not as far as Florida, but it is pretty far." He's quiet then, like that means something to him.

She chuckles softly as Everett's hand rests upon her rear. "Maybe, when I feel better, you'll get another chance. Either another amateur night or... something more private," she hints. "I like this though, too."

"Mmm. Nyquil. I'll take some of that... when I wake up." She seems to be having trouble keeping her eyes open now. "You say that, but, my dear Everett, I think you underestimate your Knight in Shining Armor abilities. Especially when you say I can call you for anything I might need." Closing her eyes, she frowns. "Arizona... my ex.. one that called me Nikki, um... killed himself in our garage. So...." she nods slowly. "Yeah. It... was a bad scene."

The big man's brows hit the trailer's ceiling before he's got a chance to make a throaty sound of approval. "I like all those options," he freely admits before nuzzling with her again and then closing his eyes. The breath he exhales sounds happily contented, with her, with the snuggling, with her insignificant weight. With the hint of more. Maybe all of it.

"Mm, Nyquil's some good stuff," and while the hand on her derriere doesn't move, his other crosses over her back, keeping her pinned down while he shares his body warmth. His eyes close the remainder of the way, while his mouth smiles wider. He can't not. With the way she's already called him. But the smile, the growing more comfortable, that draws to an abrupt end. "Oh, god. Nicole. I'm so, so sorry." She's hugged, softly, in lieu of having anything else to add.

Tiredly, Nicole reaches up to press her fingertips to his lips, forgetting about germs. "Shhh. It's okay..." she says, bringing her hand down again to slide along his chest a bit before snuggling against him more. "It was over, already... just... didn't expect that. I just couldn't stay is all. Came home." Home. "I'm gonna sleep now, Everett. I'm so tired. Hold me a little before you go? Been having bad dreams." Her lips pout. She's tired and sick, pouts come naturally.

The finger is kissed. Germs, what germs? The tight tee-shirt doing little to prevent feeling his sternum. Nor is he going to stop that finger from exploring, though it may be the touch, or her, that causes his pecs to flex, first right once then left twice before the muscles relax. For now, he's exactly where he wants to be. "I can only imagine," Everett murmurs low, his voice so deep it's almost a growl. She's nuzzled again and the immobile hand is immobile no-longer, giving her a squeeze that slides her along his frame for the duration of it. "Don't worry, Bunny. I'm not going anywhere", the nuzzle turns into a kiss of her temple. Then cheek. He moves down a little further and catches himself trying to kiss her lips, and grunts, relaxing his muscles under her.

Nicole's smile is slow and lazy as she drifts closer to sleep, but the bounce of his pecs does make her do so. She goes along for the ride as he gives her rear a gentle squeeze, adjusting them both into a more relaxed, comfortable position. Her eyes close as he kisses her temple, then cheek. By the time his lips nearly kiss hers, she is practically asleep. Her lips move to not only accept his kiss but to return it tenderly. Whether she meets them or makes out with the air is the question. Either way, she falls asleep quickly after.

She sleeps fairly well at first, but at some point in the night, the nightmares begin. They are not some of the most horrible, but she does whimper in her sleep and twitch a bit.

He's up for a little while after sleeping beauty succumbs to dream time. Eyes closed, holding her intimately, Everett's just beginning to drift into a peaceful sleep when the whimpering starts. His eyes blink open, to watch for but for a moment and then the large man attempts to soothe her worried mind. "Shh, shh, shh", allays he before gently swaying from side to side. Its in that manner he tries to calm her dreams, until the whimpering ceases, or he grows tired enough to yawn and drift off to sleep himself.

Morning comes, eventually, and when Nicole wakes, she finds herself now laying atop Everett, seemingly using the larger man as her bed. He probably cannot be too comfortable, considering his height and the length of the couch. The moment she wakes, she begins to cough. She tries to quiet them, but she cannot and just buries her head into the blanket against his chest. "Sorry," she croaks out in between a couple coughs. "Sorry..."

It's the third set of coughs that stirs the lumbering man beneath her. Smacking his lips from the bow shape they make, lips partially parted. An irritated groan rises from his throat right afterwards, sometime during the light his right arm having moved from being slung over her back to over his eyes, presumably to block out the trailer lights they left on. Writhing beneath her, he shifts, and then stretches, finally his left-hand moving from her bottom. Tensed joints pop disharmoniously before he grunts and relaxes back down, returning his hand under the blanket, but not cupping her butt, stopping at the small of her back, tucked under the blue tank top to favor the feel of her sickly skin then flannel. "S'kay. S'kay," he murmurs with exhaustion, keeping his eyes closed. "Do you need anything?" he asks after a second of silence.

If she was sick the day before, she is worse now. Her eyes feel as if they can barely open, and her voice is scratchy. She starts to cough, at least a little, every time she tries to talk. "Tea," she whispers in effort to not cough. "Gonna make tea..." Nicole doesn't move just yet, unlike him, she's comfortable with his hand on the small of her back. She is also lacking energy. She manages to slide off of him though, dragging her blanket with her as she moves to the kitchen. Turning on the faucet she reaches for a tea kettle that already sits upon the stove, filling it and placing it back, turning on the burner. "Want some?" she rasps, looking over towards the couch before getting a small tin full of tea from a shelf and a small jar of honey.

It’s with concern that Everett watches her slide off him and amble towards the kitchenette, smiling softly. When she does, he stretches out again, more aggressively then when he was a bed, or a pillow, back arching off the bed. He sits up, smooths his hair back to lessen his bedhead and lets it cascade behind his back where it’s sure not to stay. Then he finds his feet, rather than answering her. Coming up behind, he covers her small hand with his larger one, holding the tin as well. “Why don’t you go to bed, Bunny? I'm here to look after you. I’ll make the tea, you get some rest.” Looming his head down, he nuzzles the back of her head before murmuring, “And don’t forget the Nyquil.”

Nicole turns her head to look up and back at Everett as he rests his hand atop hers. The smile she gives him is grateful, even if weary. "Nyquil, right." Relinquishing the tea kettle, she moves to step aside but first stops to give Everett's chest a kiss. It's convenient, height wise, and kissing his tee is likely not as germ-risky as other options. After that, she steps to the counter to fetch the Nyquil he brought. "Shoulda had you lay on the bed instead of the couch. I can't imagine how sore you might be..."

"Pretty sore," Everett admits, even as he steps in to take over for her in the kitchen. Sure enough, its tea for two before the kettle is put on the stove and the stove turned on. It's with a little sheepish smile that he turns his head towards her and murmurs, "I'm not sure how I would have taken an offer to go to bed with you but," the sheepishness turns sly, "I'll always be able to say we slept together on our first date." She kisses his chest and his hand rises to cup the back of her head, under her ponytail. All the better to hold her lips to him a moment longer while he bends down and kisses the top of her head before letting go.

Nicole smiles when his hand lifts to her hair, his lips pressing to the top of her head. Her kiss to his chest lingers there in that moment until he lets her go. "I'll owe you one," she says, though doesn't specify one what. "We did, in fact, sleep together," her groggy voice agrees. Pouring the Nyquil into the tiny measuring cup, she tosses it back like a shot of tequila. Uncontrollably, her head shakes as she makes a face at the taste of the medicine. The cup gets washed, thoroughly washed, before she sets it aside with the medicine and pulls out two mugs from a cabinet. They are fairly big mugs, in her hands anyway, featuring Tinkerbell on one and Stitch on another. Sliding them over to Everett she says, "I'll go sit on the bed like a good girl." The bed is of course, right by the kitchen, so, not like they can't still talk.

She seems to like pillows. There's a bunch on the couch, and a bunch here too. Arranging them against the headboard, she sits, propped up and legs crossed.

Girls and their pillows. If he lives to be a bajillion, he'll never understand.
Once she leaves he pulls spoons out before lifting the tinkerbell mug and turning it over in his hands. Even though the trailer is only so big, and she's just over there, Everett's volume raises, just to be heard all the better. "Good. I like good girls. So you have a thing for Disney?" he asks, as the kettle begins to low roll. With a spoon, he adds a spoonful of honey to Tink but nothing for Stitch. And with a moment to himself, his head footfalls carry him back to the sofa to pick up the remains of her soup, and cleans the dishes.

He doesn't do this in his house.
She's already turned him domestic.

When the kettle starts to sing, Everett moves it to a cold burner then turns the stove off before adding the tea to the cups and then pouring, using his tee shirt as a handle holder as he starts to hum under his breath. A second after his large shade fills the bedroom doorway, both hands occupied. "You know I was joking, right?" he asks with a smile. "About telling people how much of a stud I am, that I got you in bed. I might look odious, but I swear I don't act like it. On purpose. And I'd hate for you to think that I would. You know. Tell people anything that happened between us."

Nicole looks up and towards the doorway. It is only now that he has said those words about liking good girls that she realizes how that can be taken. Her eyes widen and if she wasn't flushed with fever, she'd be flushed with a blush. "Uh.. yeah. I have a bit of a guilty pleasure for Disney movies and things. I was tempted to decorate the whole place in Disney but... I figured I would at least try to live like an adult a little." She has her phone in her hand, playing some game app while she waits.

Noticing him head back to the living area, she tilts her head to see what he is doing. An eyebrow arches to see him cleaning, and her lips curl in crooked grin. She ducks back before he sees her watching. "What's that you are humming?" she asks just before he fills the doorway. "Oh hi." She smiles. "Yes.. I mean, I didn't think you would run off and tell people that. I was more thinking of like, if like... you know, things go well or something and years down the line someone asked how we started dating." Reaching for a tissue, she covers her mouth and coughs for a moment before finishing. "And you would be like, 'well, she was sick and ugly, so I decided to sleep with her'. Ha ha kind of thing."

Cracking a smile, Everett snort-laughs just once. He'd paused at the doorway, but once the conversation continues, brings himself further in. Stitch is put down first, any convenient flat surface will do before Tinkerbell is offered with both hands, turning the cup around in his hand so she can take it by the handle, "Here you are. Careful. Hot."

Once it's taken, Everett returns to where he put Stitch down and picks him up, and takes a seat on the edge of the bed. "I think. I think it's your space," he says, looking around the bedroom once he's seated. "And you should decorate it the way you want. If that means Disney stuff over everything, then put Disney stuff over everything. If people see it and they can't handle that part of you, then they don't get you. Ya know?" He pauses long enough to blow on his tea before taking a sip. If there's an end table, his cup goes there before he invites himself to slide back, occupying one side. Behind his head his hands go, fingers interlaced while he rests his head in his palms. Tilting his head ever so slightly, to peer sideways at her, or her phone, he nods to Nicole. "'Years later', huh?" he asks with a soft smile. "You already picking out the wedding dress on your phone?" His smile could not be contained. Even when he adds, "And you aren't ugly. Even all coughy. Without make-up. You're the same you I know, just sick. And I'm here to help you get over it as quickly as possible. Get anything you need. Like a friend would."

"I think if I had done that.. I would get very tired of Disney everything pretty quickly. I would probably love it at first, but, you know, oversaturation..." She takes the cup and sits more upright, setting her phone in her lap, still on, so she can cradle the warm mug in both hands. She blows softly across the surface but lets the warm aroma rise up into her face instead of taking a sip.

"Mmmhmm. Totally," she says with a smirk when he asks about dresses. She tilts her pajama clad legs enough that he can see she is playing some sort of matching game full of colorful shapes. "A girl has to start planning right away, right? Before the first date is even ended?" Nicole does not seem the type to be eager to wear a wedding dress. It's probably clear she is joking. He assures her she is not ugly, even in this mess, and when he offers to get her anything she needs, she smiles. "You are far sweeter than your brooding looks make you seem. I like that. Tough outer shell protecting the softer insides."

On occasion, Everett can sense a cue and get very sweet. If sappy. "I don't think I would ever get tired of you," he murmurs, canting his head more, to turn his focus fully on her. "At least I know where we would go for our honeymoon now." His smile a little muted, watching her while she sips from her drink.

Lucky mug.

But being called on his sweetness, Everett scoffs and rolls not just his eyes but his head as well, looking over to 'his' side of the trailer before turning his head back. The smile playing lightly on his lips is affectionate. The hand closest to her slips from behind his head, and wraps around her flannel covered thigh, just over her knee where he gives a squeeze. "I dunno what you're talkin' about, Doll. I'm tough as shoe leather, through and through." Grr, tough man is tough, but the smile on his lips, the hand on her knee, indicates the inner gooey gentleman hears her. "And I like that you're. You," he offers, before his large frame turns towards her. The hand on her thigh retreats only to slide behind her back while his far hand crosses her legs to hold her knee lightly. It's a loose kind of cuddle, but it is one all the same. Made more intimate when the giant leans his head down to rest his forehead against her head. "The Sargent-at-Arm's old lady had a micro-skirt as her wedding dress. That'd be fine with me."

Nicole tries not to laugh. She really tries. She fails. Shaking her head and chuckling she erupts into a coughing fit so bad that she has to set her mud down on the nightstand and reach for the tissues. Covering her face with the flimsy paper thing will surely keep germs from infecting Everett as she coughs up a lung. So attractive. Good job, Nicole. She has to suck in a deep breath, which makes her cough more. When they at least slow, she reaches again for the mug, taking small sips of honeyed tea until the irritation in her throat subsides. The mug is set side once more and she flops back on her pillows, on Everett's hand as he moves to cuddle her.

"I might have to see you at Disney now.. that might be a life goal. Not sure that is where I would want a honeymoon, but I do kind of want to see you at Disney." Nicole groans softly as she continues to recover from her coughing fit. "Pretty sure Mr. Tough As Shoe Leather wouldn't care if his bride, no matter who she might be, wore nothing but a white thong and bustier down the aisle. Pretty sure he wouldn't even care if she wore jeans and a tee shirt. Maybe I am wrong, but..."

He couldn't be, but Everett's a little triumphant that he's caused Nicole to laugh-cough-die, silently waiting for the fit to pass, the tea to swallow and soothe the irritated throat some. Wearing his pleased grin the entirety of the time while he waits eyes half-closed. A smile, which only grows when she settles into his arm around the wealth of pillows.

"Alright then, not a honeymoon, some other occasion. But fair warning: I'm a hit with kids. Especially when they're in a closed environment and the urge to climb the freakishly tall man can't be suppressed." His cheer lowers a little while he sucks his cheeks in, glancing sideways with a thought after saying those few sentences. His mouth pops when opening his lips again and bringing his attention back to her along with his grin. "Well. If I was going to marry her, I'll take her however she'll want to dress but give me a second with that image," he murmurs, his already deep voice dropping lower with his gaze. Moving his hand from her thigh, he leans his head to the side as though trying to steal a glance down her tank top and aids his attempt by moving the shoulder strap off her shoulder. Less than a second is how long he peeks, and returns his hand to the neutral position of her thigh just over her knee. But he does lower his head and brushes his lips across where the tank top's strap had once been before laying a kiss there.

"Yeah. Jeans and a tee shirt is fine. Or pajama bottoms."

He might be lucky Nicole was too busy coughing to see him look so smug. He might have earned a smack to the arm or something, if she had the energy, for finding glee in her misery, even in this manner. Or maybe she would just laugh more.

"I can picture this," she rasps. "Kids climbing on the big stern looking man. Do you smile for them like you smile at me?" Maybe she did see after all. She reaches over to poke a finger in his cheek near that curled up corner of lip. He earns a playful elbow to his ribs then as she huffs out a sound that might be an attempt at laughing without actually laughing as he enjoys the mental image she painted. But then he is sneaking his own peek, moving her strap down and kissing her now bare shoulder. He didn't ogle, he's playful, not creepy, but looks in a way that is sure to give him at least a small view of curve before the image is obscured by cotton material. Maybe enough of a peek to help with that mental image... not that wearing a ribbed tank top without a bra hides much in regards to shape in the first place. The brush of his lips to her feverish skin makes her smile all the same, and she cuddles in against him. "The fanciest of pajama bottoms, I am sure."

Everett knows the answer to the first question like it's innate. Maybe it's been drilled into him -- from previous women punching him in his arm. "Aww, baby", the big man lifts his head and nuzzles the sickly woman. "Nobody gets the smile I give you, but you", he says in a soft whisper, while lifting his hand up once again to her chin to make her head turn his way while he brings his down to meet hers. His eyes close, a last look at her lips before they do and before his breath, his presence is felt close to her mouth, he remembers. Again. And how could he not, that she's sick and the kissing is forbidden.

Instead, he grunts with frustration, and pulls his thumb and curled forefinger from her chin. Lifting his head he murmurs under his breath, "This is not fair", before his volume raises, "just expect that I'm going to want to make up for lost time here, Bunny." Her temple. It'll have to do, resting his head against hers after the quick, innocent peck.

"The fanciest of pajama bottoms", Everett agrees, nodding, murmuring his answer to the side of her head. "Whatever she would want. Satin, silk, lace. Flannel with snot stains. She wants it? My girl can have it."