2019-10-17 - Soup, Django, and the Pursuit of Crazy

Kelsey was still trying to proccess everything that had happened during her date with Nasir. How it was almost likely something out of a movie, and it didn't just make her cringe. It drove her insane. She had purposely not called him, and tried to keep any texts they'd exchanged casual. Like that moment on the Pier, that whole damn night leading up to it, hadn't thrown her for any loops.

Today though, Kelsey gave in. Mostly because she found herself craving some kind of contact with him. Which very much scared her and didn't trust herself to not do something stupid if she saw him in person. So the end result? Setting up that Voice to Text while she worked on refining one of her articles so she could send it in and hopefully make a little scratch.

Complication was the name of the game; lack of confidence, lack of knowing what to want; what to care for, and what to push for, Nasir himself had spent many a time staring at the phone thorough the day during his working hours, thinking. Play hard to get, he reasoned; Don't text her just yet; don't call her just yet; every answer dogmatic, every response a monosyllabic 'yes', 'k', if only to convey a message that he wasn't indeed tangled by the neck with the thought of her. It was a difficult, and a tough swallow, but right then, there, where he stood;

Right against that fridge, in his trailer, while fetching an old, cold corona out from the back did his phone began vibrating like a mad man on his couch, the ringtone of Snake being caught by heinous terrorists in white resonating across the household.

He reeled back a few almost staggered steps and, first things first, popped the cap on his beer open with a turning thumb and took a sip while squinty-eyeing the text. A long, somewhat relieved sigh exhaled after, one he didn't know he needed let out, and he took to answer slowly with a bruised thumb, tip-tapping away.

Writing was supposed to be a distraction from staring at her phone, but Kelsey found herself continually glancing over anyway. Wishbone was laying under the desk, on top of her feet. Keeping them warm. Her fingers were posed on the keyboard but her eyes were on that phone again. As soon as it buzzed she grabbed it. Quick as lightening. Then groaned softly. If she replied back so quickly, did that mean something? Well, obviously it meant something but did she want that something to be conveyed to him? Kelsey didn't know.

"What do you think Wishbone? Am I just being a drama queen?" Kelsey leaned back in her chair to peek down at the pup, who gave her a soft 'wuff' like Uh, yes mom. Kelsey sighed and looked back to the phone. "What the fuck have I gotten myself into?" As she read over the text. He was home. She could definitely make up an excuse to see him. Say she was out walking Wishbone, or was about to. Or pretend her own AC was acting up. She kept her resolve for now.

After answering the text, Nasir let his body slowly succumb to the couch. His way of dealing with uncertainty wasn't to stare at the phone, no- he instead set it aside, somewhere where it'd be a bother to reach it; up and on a shelf right atop of the wagoneer's rigging of a couch slapped in his living room, where he was sure not to hear the alarming sound of her messages.

As if,

With an outstretched right foot he smacked the fridge door close, and he took to eyeing lazily the Corona's label while turning it around, letting the frosty cold that clung to it glaze his fingertips as he rotated it, seeing to its every facet. It was with that quick sway of his fingers that he understood - that he felt - the anxiety at the end of every tip, and he reasoned to let the bottle down instead. Even drinking felt like a chore, and he only a few seconds worth of time to hold his forehead silently before his phone rung again.

He blinked. That was fast, and it somehow elevated him swiftly to take his phone, and she'd find herself getting an equally fast answer; an answer as if he had been staring at the cellphone screen this whole time.

We could take him to the park.

Kelsey stared at that half of a sentence. It shouldn't have struck that much of a chord, they were...dating? Or something? Right? That's what couples did. Didn't they? Take animals out to parks and spend time together doing whatever? Kelsey swallowed hard, inhaled slowly, and then carefully set her phone back down. Focus on the article.

Exhale.

Because if you don't have any money, you're not going to be doing shit with anyone, chickadee. Kelsey skimmed over the article once, twice, three times. Fixing things here and there between struggling to not look at her phone. It felt like an eternity. But ultimately it was only about 5 minutes. Which still might be an eternity. And she still didn't send it in. She just couldn't not respond to him and so the phone gets picked up and Kelsey carefully slipped her feet out from under Wishbone. She was hungry anyway. Maybe she had leftovers of something.

Or maybe she should cook something to distract herself further.

Fuck, and he eyed that text; he saw the little flick of that checkmark turn blue, and concluded it had been read, the lack of immediate answer seeing to his brows' soft, thinking furrow. He chewed on his bottom lip, worried and curious both, and shook his phone back and forth once as if that sudden swing would make her answer emerge. It didn't. It was subtle, yes, but an invitation no less- but was it so subtle it wasn't caught? He tried not to linger on it; not to give it too much brainpower, and instead tried to slip his phone into a pocket he didn't have, given that the only piece of cloth ensuring he wasn't wholly bare came in the form of underwear; of loose, black boxers.

He stood from the couch at a slow, methodical rise - slow enough not to knock and kick shit around with his width and height - and reached for a sleeves white hanging from a coat hanger by the door. He slipped it on effortlessly and looked out his window, towards the two trailers that made up his neighbors; he eyed them in silence, and a passing thought came to him before his phone suddenly vibrated again, the quavering force making it glide on the settee downwards into the inwardly sloped puffin.

He wanted to look, he had to look, but he hadn't realized the weight it brought to his wrists the very notion of taking the phone. His brows furrowed, and a hefty shudder ran through him; a quiver that made his spine feel hurt, and standing up a difficult task, so he shuffled forward and sat beside that same cellphone he had ditched on his former sit, eyeing it sideways. With teeth anchoring down on that bottom lip again he scooped it up, unlocking his screen.

The phone was laying on the kitchen counter and Kelsey was leaning against the open fridge door, eyeing its contents. She was getting some ideas but not for anything quick. She realized she was trying to figure out things that Nasir might like to eat. Things she could make for him. Kelsey groaned again. Why was she torturing herself? She wasn't ever the sort to keep her thoughts down or think twice about what she said. Fuck what people thought of her and what she had to say. Then this guy comes along and all she wants to do is make sure she doesn't run him off. Kelsey rested her forehead on her arm as Wishbone padded in behind her, trying to nose into the fridge and see if there was anything good.

"Noo nope. I don't think so Mister. You've got your food." Kelsey gently nudged the pup and closed the fridge door before she relaxed against the counter and looked down at that phone. "I should tell him to come over, right? It isn't too late or anything. It's an appropriate dinner time." Looking to Wishbone again like he'd give her some kind of clear answer. He, of course, did not. The problem, Kelsey figured, was with all the things that were bound to happen when she was in a closed, private space with Nasir. Things that had been bouncing around her head and making her blush ever since the first day she met him. Things Kelsey didn't know if she was ready to dive back into yet.

He had chosen to desert her phone on the couch again without a second thought this time around, essentially 'dumping' it after he wrote his own message and stood up, fishing the corona off the floor. He tilted it on the way out, pushing the trailer's door open like a post-nuclear apocalypse survivor does a bunker hatch with how hard the release of air that came with it was. The sun shone on him with a fury, but his skin was made to be shone down upon- it made his eyes squint beneath the glare and once hidden, pale freckles appear hashed across his scarred nose as if someone had peppered it to eat it; freckles that only did show under such circumstances, or a blush of such burn that they were betrayed atop the red-- a situation not yet //thankfully/ experienced before her.

As he wandered outside, almost like in cue, his gas grill's dingy third leg gave in to a breeze of wind and topped over, falling on its ass. He looked around, shifty, and suddenly announced with no little scorn; "Piss off ghost," as he paced towards the fallen fumble of rusty metal, lifting it up and planting it into the sand with pressure from both of his hands. He figured it was best to get everything sorted and not be a bum, picking up the empty beer bottles laying around, plastics and messes from the night prior, and it soon dawned him he only broke such status quo of letting shit laying around due to the possibility of her visit. Why do I care? Was the first notion that came to his mind; the first challenge to his pride, but he cared. He could've been a bum, one that caved to the demons in his head every other night and knew Corona be the only fix, but to her he was the cool guy with the ATV, and the jacket. A good lie.

After filling a black bag worth of stuff he dropped it all by the highway next to his neighbor's own trash, to be picked tomorrow's night, and returned back to his trailer to immediately fish his phone from the clutches of the couch.

The fridge had been opened again. She had some kale, ground turkey sausage, onion. There was a potato around here somewhere. In a bag in the pantry probably. Kelsey's kitchen was her pride and joy. The most used place in the house aside her office. She needed heavy cream though. That would require a store trip. Cooking was a good distraction. There was a glance to the phone now and again as it lay on the counter, but there wasn't that overwhelming need to be holding it, you look at it.

She was working on a mental list of things when she heard the phone ding. Wandering over to peek at it, she almost blanched. Today?? Kelsey's mind was racing. She couldn't let him in the house. No way. She was still certain one look around and he'd realize he was making a mistake. Maybe Kelsey wanted him to realize that. Because all these weird and foreign feelings twisting inside her were too much. And yet she wanted to see him. Wanted to cook for him. Wanted to tell him 'yes, today, obviously'. Kelsey rubbed a hand over her face.

"Fuck me sideways." She muttered. "I'm losing my goddamn mind." She abandoned her kitchen foray to lean against the archway opening that led into the living room. She should at least clear off the coffee table. Kelsey bit her lower lip and then decided no. No. This was a good idea. She could invite him over to eat and if he couldn't handle some messy organization on a variety of seemingly outlandish and weird topics then it was better to find out now.

Kelsey held her hand out, summoning up a minor bit of her Physical powers to float her phone over into her hand and sighed again before starting to reply.

In tandem to her opening of the fridge, he opened his wardrobe. A small, wooden and two-doored installation against the wall beside his bed meant to save space, and pack as much of his clothing as he could. Unlike the mess he had left outside, Nasir was very careful and tidy with his clothing. Shirts folded on the left, T-Shirts splayed on coathangers from a wooden pole on the wardrobe's top, with jeans clipped connected to their waist of matching colors- loose and tight ones alike, yet he mostly saw himself going out with the tight variety. It was fashion, after all; fashion the kind that he liked, with those pseudo biker jackets he enjoyed putting on, with as many derogatory terms as was possible sewn to them.

Not this time though,

This time, he dug in deep for the kind of clothing his mother would dress him in, and claim he looked wonderful with; he reached deep where his hands never went and pulled out a flannel, plaid shirt colored in varying shades of blackened blue, teal and greyed whites. It wasn't whole, but rather buttoned at the front, the wrists and the neck. It was old, he realized; so old it still had scuff marks and scratches on the back, and he needed only to lean in and take a small inhale to catch a whiff of what his father's own smell once was. Why wear this, why now? He hadn't bothered to check that crate his mother sent him until that moment, of his father's belongings, yet here he was, seeing through them- seeing himself in them, for an unconfirmed possibility of seeing that girl crowning his mind again.

And then he remembered, quickly turning to the phone whose ringing he hadn't heard while his mind was elsewhere. He laid the shirt out across the bed and took a hold of it, replying only after his eyes widened at the all-surprising response.

There Kelsey stood, staring at the phone with her heart racing and that funny feeling fluttering up in her stomach. She desperately wanted a drink. Something to calm her nerves but since she'd been on the paid meds she'd had Garrett kindly remove the little alcohol she did have from the premises so she wanted tempted. There was a laugh that bubbled up as she read his text. Wouldn't that be rich. Just letting him take Wishbone for a play date in the park. It'd be a hell of a lot simpler. Kelsey looked towards the pup, who had claimed his usual spot on the couch and then back to the phone. She'd have to figure out something to wear. She needed a whole new wardrobe it felt like. But there was no money for that. Other things took precedent.

She moved to her bedroom - which no longer was looking like a tornado ran through it. That had been yesterday's distraction project. Keep it casual. Comfortable. Her typical attire for a store trip. She pulled out a tank top, her black and green flannel, and a pair of jeans. Laid it out on the bed, frowned a bit and then looked back to her dresser. There was a mild urge to want to dress nicer, but the simple fact was that this was nice. Maybe she'd put on the mascara again. Ugh. The devil's makeup.

Kelsey typed out her text and then gathered the clothes up to head towards the bathroom.

The truck, thank Allah he had foreseen this moment. A little bead of sweat drooled down the corner of his face as he stared intently at that phone, the truck, oh fateful leader of his people that probably didn't exist, thank you. Just the day prior he had seen it to a car wash, and ever since he arrived home from their late-night dating he hadn't gone to sleep, no- he went hard on his truck with a rag and a bucket of soaped water. Why? Because he told himself he wouldn't drive her again anywhere on an ATV when it was a date. It wasn't right, it wasn't fitting, so his truck had to be. An old, worn down '01 Silverado in dire need of a new coat of paint, as the dark red it now had looked to be peeling off its steel flesh.

Mechanically, however, he had kept it top notch. It had two doors, and only two sits; its wagon was entirely plastified from the inside, with the flooring carpeted by black, puffy tarp meant to cushion precious cargo or electronics he moved around, now apparently a dog purposed to come along.

And, of course, he had a small sticker laid out across the bottom of his tailgate that colorfully proclaimed Omw2urmoms.

He quickly removed his underwear and next came the shirt, baring himself in a rush while making way to the shower. He took a pausing moment to reply before letting the water flow, cleansing away the night's grime with tonic and shampoo alike.

A good, thorough hair washing and a scrub down and Kelsey was feeling a little more confident. A little less like she was going to through up from her nerves. She wasn't sure if she could make her hair do anything special in so little time and so, was not going to worry about it yet. First was trying to get on that stupid mascara again. Which went smoother than last time even though it still look a couple attempts. She stared under the bathroom sink at the small array of body sprays she'd had. All of them well into the 5 years old range or more, but they still seemed okay? She picked out a jasmine scented one and sprayed a little on her wrists and some on her neck.

Then came the clothes and also checking that her arm bandage was okay. And it was. It had managed to stay mostly dry - she'd go to the hospital tomorrow to get it changed. Not too much longer and it would be off completely. That was something else she'd have to deal with later. Her hair was towel dried and brushed out before Kelsey tossed it into a ponytail. Wallet, check. Sneakers, check. Wishbone's leash - check. Kelsey grabbed the leash and looked to Wishbone, kneeling down. "C'mere Wishbone. We're gonna go for a ride! Gonna go outside." Kelsey took on that 'parent talking to baby' tone of voice that people had when talking to their animals.

Wishbone stared at her for a few seconds and then scampered off the couch and over to her. Excited at the prospect of outside! Which the leash meant. Kelsey hooked the leash to the collar and then hugged the puppy close for a minute, letting him lick at her some. Glad that he was going to be there. Hopefully some kind of buffer against the inevitable building of tensions and nerves that were going to happen - at least for Kelsey. And now, they were waiting. Sitting outside on the front step, waiting for that truck to pull up.

For Nasir it took more than just a thorough scrubbing to be confident. With the recent acquisition of a grooming kit; a kit full of little bits of razors, plyers and the like, he went at his beard with a fury while within the shower, grooming it and clipping off any excess of asymmetrical hair until it was measuredly laid out across the hard chiseling of his jawline, no more the scraggly, bushy mess it once was.

He considered removing the many red hairs that differentiated to the chestnut brown of it, if only for it to have a single color, but chose against it. Made it special, right? Why bother, especially when it was the one thing he could claim to have from his redhead of a mother.

Some cleaning spray for his facial pores, some oily tincture to wash and rinse the really gritty dirt deep at his beards' root, and soon it was malleable and soft enough to take a comb to it, nicely brushing it while standing in front of his little bathroom's mirror. Feeling it groomed for the days' tribulation, Nasir walked out to dig through his wardrobe again. A white, sleeveless wifebeater; a pair of loose, dark grey jeans and a belt with a subtle, layered buckle the kind you'd clasp in an airplane chair, tight-fitting, all suiting the contrasting color of his original flannel pick once he did put it all on.

Last, but not least, were his shoes- a pair of steel-capped, flock leather boots that reached his ankles, and could probably live through a nuclear holocaust with how robust they were. Those same boots pushed aside his door and kicked it right shut after he had made it out, wallet and phone in each respective jean pocket. He fitted a watch on his left wrist after getting in the truck and drove out Huckleberry like a convict with a trail of cops on his ass.

And in twenty minutes, not thirty, he was at her doorstep. His windows were down, and he parked carefully in front of her place with only the soft sound of the engine huffing and warning the truck to be on still, making it obvious he meant to wait for her inside it. On that distance, however, he smiled at her- a close-mouthed, subtle smile that softened his hard, marked face.

Kelsey hugged Wishbone close again for a moment as Nasir's truck pulled up. She had been doing fine until actually seeing the truck. Seeing him. And it would be far too awkward to just run back inside. All those nerves twisting and bundling back up. "Alright boy. Let's go say hi." She murmured, rising to her feet and heading down the short walk, though Wishbone was ahead of her, excited to see the newer face and to ride in a TRUCK! Kelsey only had the old car sitting in her driveway - a Corolla that was no where near new and looked like it might just have manual windows even. Not nearly as much fun to ride in.

Kelsey mustered up that smile as those blue eyes gave Nasir a once over. "Flannel looks good on you." She opened the door up then and scooped Wishbone up with her good arm to let him into the truck. And Nasir was immediately assailed with the excited puppy trying to lick at him and say hello. Kelsey grinned at this as she climbed in after and firmly shut the passenger door. She wouldn't let it go on too long of course- making sure that Wishbone calmed himself and backed off a bit so Nasir could concentrate. She kept looking at him, unable to help it. Traveling over his beard - which was notably neater than it had been during their night at the pier. There was that urge to reach out and touch it again. To feel that bristly hair between her fingers, to feel the skin beneath it.

Kelsey cleared her throat a little and tore her gaze away - keeping a casual arm around Wishbone and focusing on the windshield. "So, uhm, just the Safeway in town is fine. I only need heavy cream and, uhm. If we wanna get anything for dessert."

Wishbone's excitement was only matched by Nasir's own- he may as well been another puppy as that little hustler came stomping across the front sits his way. He gasped loudly, his dark eyes lit with delight, and made to mimic a tiny, wee little tone of baby voice that was genuinely comical in how it blended with his voice so deep; "Whooch a good boeeey?!" is how he chose to greet him, leaning down and seeing his hands around that little torso to pull him up and sit him on his lap. On Kelsey, perhaps, he was a lap dog no more-- on Nasir, however, there was much more lap to work with; much more torso to lean into, and an eager face that pressed down to return every lick done to his face and beard with little pecks and eskimo kisses against Wishbone's jowls and nose.

He was a giggling mess, and his face ended up with a slick sheen after he finally surrendered in Wishbone's eager assault, lifting his head; his chin and scrunched face away with a smile so mirthfully dimpled one could stick a quarter of a pinkytip in them.

"My goodness.." He let out a breathless release of air, looking at Kelsey almost as if he had just jogged his way to her house rather than on the truck. His chest heaved after the pup's upheaval, and the way he toned his words after held no small degree of playfulness; "You wear it a lot better. Shit, a lot better." He didn't bother to hide it this time, the way his gaze roamed her form, and took in the view- from shoulder to leg, and any skin that showed. His head dipped up and down in following, all he liked, but soon reeled up for what he liked most: her face.

And there, he lingered. The inside of his truck was properly clean, the banister product of a recent detailing job done as favor exchange of a work of his own. His sits' upholstery was a black, easy leather of a tapestry, the surface matted with soft wool that did nothing for looks and aesthetics but bothered more with how obscenely comfortable, fluffy and malleable the couching was meant to be, and it was.

"Alright, Safeway. How're you feeling? You look beautiful, by the way." and as he asked, he turned the gearstick, sending them off into the driveway in direction of their destination. Yes, it was manual. He drove with one hand - his left hand - out on the top center of the wheel, with his hairy forearm sticking out. He had worked his shirt's sleeves up to the elbows, which meant better control on the driving part.

Kelsey loved watching how Wishbone and Nasir interacted. It meant way more to her than she initially thought - the fact that the man in the seat next to her was a dog person. Not much skin showing today. Just her hands, her face. Her collarbone due to the fact her flannel wasn't buttoned. She did allow herself to enjoy the feel of his gaze raking over her until their eyes caught.

He was favored with a grin then, that that faint hint of pink crawling up to her cheeks from a woman who was clearly not used to being complimented. "Thanks. But, you know the real test of who wears it better: flannel edition? We'd have to have the whole getup. The Wranglers, cowboy boots, and stetson hats." Chuckling at the idea.

As the truck started moving, Wishbone climbed up into Kelsey's lap to rest his front paws on the window and stick his head out. Tongue out- loving the breeze. Kelsey made sure to keep a gentle, but firm hold on him because he was still small enough to easily go tumbling out the window if one wasn't careful.

Kelsey drew in a soft breath and smiled again, looking over at him. "Truth? I'm feeling nervous as fuck. I haven't cooked for anyone else in a long time. But other than that...good. I'm good. Glad that we're doing this." Turning her attention forward once more. "You're looking pretty great too you know...I like what you've done with the beard too."

Nasir looked about to reply at the possibility of a choreographed get-up, yet sadly a particularly unskilled driver had just cut them off on what had been clearly their time to stop, instructed by a big red sign ahead, which in turn forced Nasir to slow down as well. A less methodical driver would've stomped the breaks, but he didn't; he just, yes, slowed down to an easy halt. "Mother fucker," he complained, sticking a part of his head out his own side of the window to look off as the Corolla drove off into the distance, a very thin hand sticking out the window to flip him off as it turned a corner and went out of sight. "That little bitch."

He shook his head and leaned back inside, shifting gears before the truck went on again. Despite the little mishap, he looked mostly amused - perhaps from the unwarranted flip-off - and addressed Kelsey's features again once they drove on. He, however, did look back at the road for the most part, choosing to side-long glance as he spoke as a norm of self-preservation;

"Well shit, that's my secret Captain, I'm always fucking nervous when I'm with you, cooking or not." His admittance came with no glance to her, no; he looked straight ahead this time, not out of necessity but real, legitimate shame. His shoulders straightened and his posture fixed on the couch, all while they came upon a red light. His fingers lazily tapped the wheel in waiting, and he added as an almost-mumble while so. "I thought you wouldn't want to be seen around with a homeless monkey, and all that."

A smirk twitched on Kelsey's lips as Nasir shouted towards the bad driver. "People are assholes." She mused, relaxing into the comfy seat. "I hate driving. But I also hate the idea of walking everywhere? So, I split my time." And it was so good to hear that he was nervous too, because man sometimes it hadn't seemed like it. Just like he was totally fine with everything and going about all smooth sailing.

Kelsey studied Nasir's profile as he drove. A light frown creasing her features. "A homeless monkey? The fuck's that even mean? You got a roof over your head so you ain't homeless and secondly you-" She paused, and then took another breath to compose herself. "You're one of the most handsome guys I've seen roll through his town. Like, I can't even fathom why you want to spend time with me. " It was obvious she was trying really hard not to ramble.

"I'm nervous around you too. Not just because of the cooking." She admitted softly, focusing back on Wishbone to make sure he was doing alright. He was of course. "You've been making me feel...a lot of things." And then, blessedly, that light turned green. Time to keep driving!

It was difficult to keep a straight face as compliments came his way but Nasir did his best; he kept it clean, letting only but a subtle crevicing of his lips' form with a pucker denote how much disagreement he had in him about his not-homelessness, and supposed handsomeness. It almost felt like casual kindness; like a rehearsed response, but that's how every compliment to him felt, sadly, and he looked about to drop some snarky fire until the word 'feel' that translated into 'feelings' came upon their proverbial table.

One could almost see the question marks pop on his forehead as his head turned much more so, looking at her fully; looking away from the light with eyes narrowed and lips lightly ajar, ready to defy and demand, until a loud horn resonated from behind them, so loud indeed even his glove compartment snapped open as the vibration rocked through the truck's cabin.

The lid wasn't too steep, however, and it helped so the holstered M1911 didn't flop down alongside the car's papers and rest bundled in place to the floor. The handgun had a wooden finish by the handle and the classic, silvered metal casing that shaped the barrel, as well as the symbolic etching of Delta's motto beside the safety; "De Oppresso Liber."

Nasir was too focused on looking over his shoulder at the angry trucker behind, and turned to see ahead indeed the green light that had spared her from his important question, that prompted him to drive on. The tunnel that he felt surrounding him made him ignorant to the hanging glove compartment, but that could be blamed on the amount of shit going through his head, perhaps.

Kelsey could feel his eyes on her, she felt like she was burning alive almost . That nervous energy rolling through her like a truck. Like the truck that was honking at them. Kelsey narrowed her eyes just a touch, carefully moving Wishbone off and back to the middle. Yes they were in the wrong but Kelsey stuck her head out the window also with a middle finger.

"Calm your fucking tits!" She shouted at then and then sat back in the seat. That felt better. And that's when she took stock of the fallen open glove compartment. She reached over to put papers back and paused at the gun. Lifting it, studying it carefully. "Nice piece." She murmured. Glancing sidelong at him and then put the gun back too. Trying to close the compartment as they started rolling. Wishbone didn't need to be getting into that.

Once it was all cleaned up she relaxed and Wishbone was back to looking out the window. Kelsey stayed quiet. Feeling like she'd already said too much. Gaze focused strictly ahead other.

By all accounts Nasir acted as if he had been shot, there while he leaned into the wheel, driving as if an old lady had taken his place. He squinted at the road horribly so, and it wasn't due to a lack of eyesight- even laugh lines manifested on the flanks of his eyes with how squeezed his expression was. He was thinking. Feelings, what did she mean? Feelings, the destroyer of everything; I am become feelings, the destroyer of worlds. His train of thought was like a pendulum, then- it dropped with a heavy crescendo upon his fears and misunderstandings, and each time the pressure became too much he looked right, towards her.

Once, twice, thrice-- on the fourth time, something must've clicked, since his gaze lingered. It helped, perhaps, that another red light was upon them, the last one before arriving. The streets were particularly beefy with cars and they'd perhaps have to wait for two green lights before reaching the other end if the orchestra of honking was anything to go by.

"Yeah, eh, I never use it," his right hand reached out, eventually; away from the shifting gear, and he sought to press it now, with the pausing chance on the highway, against the nape of her neck- to ease his fingers into it, and after a gentle squeeze let it descend down to her shoulder and even further into her flank, and thus pull her closer; to kill the distance between them, and prompt her head to his shoulder.

"Everything alright? What's going on through your head?" His words held a mix of worry and genuine concern coalesced. The way she became rigid sent doubt into his mind, and by the earnest way his arm moved about her inflicted a need of nurturing from him.

Kelsey was holding Wishbone a little closer and the pup seemed to sense that something was going on with her because he tore himself from the window to start snuggling up against her. She was lost in her own spiraling thoughts. Foreign feelings. Good ones, confusing ones. How she was even supposed to word these feelings. Were their words? His touch startled her out of it. Those hands on her neck, making the little hairs stand up on end. A rocket of anticipation barreling through her. Feeling that hand sliding down, down, down. Tugging her into him Kelsey remained quiet, settling her head on his shoulder and breathing in his scent. Which was really his scent mixed with his father's because of the closet. Wishbone was laying in Kelsey's former spot. Head on her lap as she was tucked against Nasir.

Finally, Kelsey drew in a breath so she could speak. "I'm sorry. I'm fine. Really I just..." What was going through her head...she didn't know if she could explain it. "We've already touched on it. I guess. But this is really....new. To me. I haven't dated anyone or gone on any dates in like 3,almost 4 years now. And you have me thinking all kinds of things I haven't thought about in forever." She admitted. "Very adult things." A little awkwardly. "And yeah, you're rough around the edges but, so am I you know? And I have this need to just...know everything you about and-" She stops herself and rubs her forehead against his shoulder a bit.

"And I can't seem to stop going on goddamned tangents around you either."

His hadn't didn't endeavor in sultry ways, but rather focused on laying still out and across her stomach, against that dark, green flannel he had nails to scrape against, fumbling with the fabric and in turn fiddling some with her navel in a subtle flexing of his knuckles. He listened intently, his own head turning lightly into hers to press his right, strained cheek into her bed of hair. He could almost hear her heartbeat crowning her scalp, or was it simply the engine's own subtle vibration? It was hard to tell, especially with how focused he was in pinning the source of her worries.

Once her forehead sought the broadness of his shoulder he caught his lower lip between his teeth, his right foot subtly pressing the pedal in tandem to push the Silverado into its affixed position on the line.

"Don't be afraid," he finally whispered, because that's what it was, wasn't it; it was fear? Because what else could it be. What else could make her feel so caved in his touch, and in turn make him want to ward off the darkness. That palm on her stomach squeezed, endearingly so, and that bitten lip turned to press a gentle kiss against the edge of her forehead, tussled with air messily caught in the way. "I'm here, you know? Here, sitting beside you, right now. There's nowhere else I'd like to be- and so long as there's nowhere else you'd like to be---...." he'd pause briefly, looking over her head and in Wishbone's direction; "---.... And nowhere Wishbone would like to be, then why worry? Just, ask. If there's so much you'd like to know, ask, and I swear, I'll do my best to answer you."

"I don't want to push you away either. Be it my service, the scars-- the looks, sex or the gun, ask. We'll work it out- they're adult things, and we're adults. Lets be adults."

Fear.

The greatest crippler of all. A universal enemy. Kelsey was scared to death about all of this. Almost as scared as she had been during that Halloween night when everything went awful. Okay, maybe not that scared. Because, well, nothing can ever be as scary as living through a SAW movie. But there was definitely a different kind of fear flowing through her veins. She sought to find comfort in his words, in the feel of his bristle and lips against her temple. The way his pal rested on her stomach.

"We are adults." Kelsey agreed finally, closing her eyes. "And I don't want to be anywhere else right now. Half of me wants to just be glued to your side. and the other half knows that's a silly notion." She shifted, as if curling in against him further. Her hand rested on Wishbone's head to give him scritches. A calming effect, as it were.

"I...don't want to get into all this while we're sitting in this truck." Kelsey opened her eyes to look up at him. Head tilting just enough. "And, the truth? I think my biggest fear at the moment is you taking one look at my weird ass museum of a living room and saying forget it. Which, is stupid and shallow but yeah. We can talk about...things. Over dinner. While I'm cooking even. Where we don't have other things going on." An idle motion to the road.

His head bobbed up and down slowly, easing into her words, but more than the words the emotion that sought to convey them. Subtly, one of his eyes squinted, as if trying to zero down on it all, for it genuinely worried him- it affected him, and it should, he felt a drive to see those gaps filled, for many spoken and unspoken agreements now bound them together, and any fear; any hurt, would inevitably hurt him. That was the adult thing.

His mouth, craggy still and with a need of some coco lipstick to mend such cracks, pressed and rubbed tenderly into her forehead but a brief moment longer, teasing into what'd eventually be an agreeing peck. He looked away after, straightening his head, and settled his eyes centered on the road. The second green light came, and before the truck forged on he made sure to whisper a re-assuring; "We're fifteen minutes from arriving. Why don't you close your eyes, I turn the AC on, and you get to nap a bit until we're there?" Nasir laid his left palm down on the armrest of the door, pressing the two flip buttons that lifted each of the front's windows closed. He worked with the board and the AC's turn wheel, circling it to a mild '2' of its five measuring digits of cold.

Slowly, a conditioning breeze began to ebb out the small vents, adding a little chill to their cabin. The sound of the artificial cold too killed most sound coming from the outside, even that of the driving truck that now took to the highway again, lending them an easier atmosphere.

Later, over dinner; over dinner. He inhaled deeply, and took a while for it to be exhaled, thinking; pondering.

Kelsey leaned into the lips and the comfort they sought to bring. Listening to his words about the AC, she nodded. She wasn't tired really but the quiet would give her time to sort out what she wanted to say and ask.

Her head tilted to brush her own looks against his cheek before settling on his shoulder once more. Her left hand lifted to rest in his thigh and give a gentle squeeze. "A nap sounds good." Was Kelsey's soft response.

So there she stayed. Half curled against him with Wishbone laying in her lap. Eyes closed. In a weird state between light sleep and thinking about things. Until they would finally pull in to they Safeway.

Nasir's own hand rose from her thigh to press out his fingers into Wishbone's neck. He wrapped them around his little throat, being long enough to encompass most of it, tilt-up and reach his little ears, which he wiggled and scratched at the back of. They weren't so little, however, and it became obvious when he began flapping them playfully up and down in the strokes of his index finger, the sight which made the driver smile. It was mostly absent-minded touching however, for he was mostly focused on the driving.

Come time, perhaps a little longer than fifteen minutes, the truck came to a slow halt. Nasir was in no hurry to let her know they had arrived; to wake her up, or disturb her sleep however light, and made a focus instead to let her ease into the information by turning off the truck, letting the AC's release come to a halt, the lights from the banister flicker off and everything turn quiet. Way too quiet.

He lingered there, quietly. On the feeling of her body sat against him; on the touch of Wishbone's still-delicate jowls at the end of his fingertips. A little smile caught on his face, and some strain caught in his throat. He tried to preserve the smile, but only did shudder; he shuddered so much hair rose at the back of his neck and a feeling of uncertainty wrapped its dreary claws around his chest in the form of a sudden, icy feeling.

"Hey," he finally whispered, egging on his chin right to press cheek and jawline into her own, prompting her attention delicately;

"Wake the fuck up, Samurai. We've got some bacon to burn."

Wishbone was happy for the attention. Tail wagging and ears flapping. Kelsey could feel the movement but didn't mind it. It was just an extra layer of easing her spiraling thoughts. All too soon it felt like the car was stopping but she too was in no rush to detangle from the temporary pillow that was him.

A soft little noise and then a chuckle at his words as she opened her eyes. Rubbing at them with her left thumb and pointer finger. "Burnt bacon is a travesty." She flashed him a little smile and a teasing nudge.

Looking up at him she paused for a moment. And then leaned up to press a quick, chaste kiss to his lips. He had said to stop being scared after all. Though there was a sheepish little look on her features as she scooted away from him and picked up Wishbone so the door could be opened.

"Alright baby boy." To the dog of course. "Let's get dinner and maybe we'll get you a treat." Then she was opening the door and getting out if the truck!

Nasir smiled at the reciprocated tease, and his head bobbed up and down in irrefutable agreement, which drew very subtle lines of laughter at the corner of his lips; lines that'd certainly become more prominent with aging, yet here; yet right now, they were only but a hint of his youth. "It is a travesty, but I'd friggin' eat it anyway," he re-assured, almost proud of the idea.

And then she kissed him- it naturally caught him off-guard, given how his eyes had taken to look off and forward while they spoke, past the window, until she pressed up to reach his mouth. He kissed her back, tenderly, and gave a subtle tug of her shirt as she pulled off, to get herself out of the truck.

He took a bit longer than she did, what with checking a few tidbits in his glove compartment and sliding the holstered firearm and its sheath concealed beneath the back of his shirt. The wallet came next, which he had a habit of just leaving out in the banister rather than ride with it in his pockets. Eventually, he stepped out of the massive Silverado's cabin, soles crunching some broken glass by his door's stepping from some perhaps delinquent drinking the night prior that ended in some empty beer-bottle throwing.

"So, what are we buying? It's on me today, yeah? I don't want to see your wallet out," he warned, albeit playfully- he walked around the truck and waited for her at its front, where his right hand would be waiting for her, on the way to the Safeway.

Kelsey waited more or less patiently with Wishbone. The pup prancing around, trying to wander off to investigate different things in this new area. Though she was keeping him close - not wanting him to stray new the broken glass. Vet bills were much too expensive for her at the moment. As Nasir made his way around to the front, Kelsey followed suit.

Her hand easily slipped into his and gave a little squeeze as they headed into the store. Technically, dogs probably weren't allowed inside the Safeway unless they were service animals but, well - he might as well be one! After all, she was technically handicapped and all that these days.

As they entered into the air-conditioned space that was the store, Kelsey sighed contently and then looked around. "Can you grab just one of those baskets?" Nodding to the stack of hand-held ones. "We just need heavy cream, and maybe some spicy italian sausage? Do you like spicy food?" Kelsey asked as she wrapped Wishbone's leash around her wrist a little more so he wouldn't go too far.

The store's cold wasn't exactly like that of the truck, and some airs did stand on end once they entered. He gave a playful squeeze to her hand just as their feet touched the inside, and he felt a tingly little tug at his chest once the two made way into that breach of a store- it was symbolic, perhaps; the first time they were hand to hand going into a store, yet certainly not the last. He was forced to tug her slightly along to reach the basket, as he didn't let go, and once he returned beside her it was hanging lazily from the left side of his waist.

"Wishbone, c'mere boy-- come here," he whistled and clicked his lips for the pup, waving him over as they entered the food lanes, guided by Nasir's pace. "I'm Arabic, all I know is spicy food, and the only food I know how to make's kebab and shawarma. A really, really, really mean shawarma, as spicy as it gets," there was more than just pride in his voice at the notion, and enough of the memories had passed through his head for some mild salivation, which prompted him to brush and lick his lips quickfast.

"Italian sausage sounds good. Heavy cream-.... That's for the Alfredo sauce, or whatever, right? Wait; wait, wait, what are you going to make?" his eyes turned thusly to face her, brows raising, while his attention was indeed divided on the many shelves and their supplying that prompted a back and forth from her eyes to the products.

Wishbone was, thankfully, a good dog and stayed between and around the pair. Not straying from them. Kelsey idly thought that she could get used to this if she let herself. Holding hands while doing as mundane a thing as shopping. Cooking for two instead of one. "I love spicy food though. Well, I love all kinds of food really. I've been practicing Asian fare. I haven't tried any kind of Arabic food. Maybe you'll have to teach me how to make shawarma." The word sounded a little foreign on her tongue, but fun.

There was a laugh that escaped her when he asked what she was making. "I'm going to make a kale and sausage potato soup." She explained. Something my mom used to make. I haven't made it in a while so, you know, you can't judge me if it comes out terrible." There's a teasing in her tone. Mostly. "But I figure soup is good for a slighly chilly day. And there'll be leftovers." She navigated him down the baking aisle next though, as they made their way towards the meat and dairy area. "What sort of desserts do you like?"

Food was a safe topic.

Nasir looked more than careful when it came to the surroundings of the little pup- he couldn't help but walk a bit closer to him than necessary when a new shopping cart moved by, full of goods, which naturally aroused the young little thing's curiosity. He looked careful and downright zealous of his safety to a degree, and sometimes even leaned down as they walked to reach in and give his little neck a thorough, grasped stroke where nails dug in and fingertips pressed in rubdown.

At the question, he stared, and it came right as he was kneeling beside Wishbone's side, working his throat under a single, hooked index finger. His stare never once wavered from her eyes; it lacks the impression that he's thinking too deeply on it, but more-so the shock that he had never made that question to himself. Nevermind that most individuals look away when they think, he doesn't, he simply stares not just at her, but her eyes.

"Eh," a pause; a beat, "I like cheddar sticks. Or junk food, after a fatty meal," a longer pause, one where he stands and furrows his brows, the drop of brow-skin making his eyes even more narrow than their usual, sharp outlook; more calculative, "What I DO like before every meal's a soup. A nice broth. Ribs, pork, chicken, anything in there. My full name may as well be: "Nasir who wakes up at two AM to put up a stove of criminal ass maggi soup," Ibn Khairan."

Despite his response, he watched her carefully, almost as if wary of a disagreement in his relatively disappointing eating habits. At least they weren't talking about alcohol.

Alcohol was a dangerous topic.

Alcohol was a dangerous topic. A topic that Kelsey was tempted to broach because the alcohol aisles were right there. Not in line of sight, but she knew just a few aisles down there they would be. And it would be a nice way to calm the nerves. Or something. Maybe. Kelsey refrained for now. Simply waiting for his answer. Staring right back at him, not one to back down from staring contests.

There's a nod at his response as she grabs a box of brownie mix. "So not a sweets guy?" Kelsey doesn't seem to particularly care that his eating habits are dismal. Her's aren't the greatest either really. "Junk food is good all the time. Let's be real here." She mused. "Soups before a meal? Any kind of meal or a big one?" There's another beat of pause. "What's maggi soup?" Raising a brow.

Then sure's turning so they could venture on towards the outer aisles where they really actually needed to be. "We can swing through the pet section on our way to the check out. Let Wishbone pick out a toy or treats or something." Kelsey offered, even as her gaze briefly cut down towards the liquor aisle. Why oh why did she have to be all responsible and tell Garrett to get rid of her bottles. Few as they'd been.

Almost immediately, Nasir was in a different place. Like a deer who had caught a predator, or a particularly unruly dog who had caught an alluring scent, he looked over her head with ease and off towards that alcoholic display right as they walked by it. His eyes widened briefly; Corona, Old Parr, Jägermeister. There was a stop there, right as she asked him more specifically of the magical world of Maggi soup, where he looked down and gave one entirely all-encompassing answer to all of her many, quick questions and re-affirmations. "What?" and his gaze twitched away, off and back to the alcohol aisle.

The rusty flooring that changed from the polished tiles of the store's overall ground. The calefaction that wasn't nearly as cold as the rest of the building meant to entice one to enter it with its coziness. The brands, the labels, the smell- it all called for him. Most importantly, the promise of forgetting, and he almost stepped directly in its direction before a gruff little pup by his feet whined for attention, chewing at the base of his skin-tight jeans, tugging. He pouted, leaning down with puckered lips to pick Wishbone up and hold him to his chest, speaking into his jowls as the dog leaned in, taking Nasir's whole crooked nose into his mouth. "Do you want a treat, little woof-woof?" Nasir asked, his lips leaning into the dog's throat before barking quiet little barks of playfulness, nibbling at his skin.

Eventually, he regarded Kelsey again with somewhat of an exasperated face, yet it was clearly linked somehow to the booze. Especially with how he side-eyed it from the energetic pup still molesting his face. "Sorry, Maggie-- it's like this little paper you break over the pot, a lot of condiments. You make it with chicken and shit, it's instantaneous. Very unhealthy, and no; not a sweets guy," he hadn't let go of her hand, and took this chance to lift it up alongside his to press a soft little kiss planted directly ontop of hers, right against her knuckles; "Unless we're talking about you." Corny.

It was as if Kelsey could feel his tension, desire and maybe she could get just the barest hint of it from her powers. Weak as they were in the Mental aspect of things. She wouldn't have claimed to be an alcoholic, even when she was going through the aftermath of her turn of events. Though others might claim she acted like one. It was easier to drink and forget than stay sober and relive shit. Easier to get stoned out of her mind on weed or, occasionally, cocaine. There wasn't anything to forget now though, right? She'd gotten over it, started obsessing over the Veil and the Weird of this town instead. Right?

She stared at Nasir again for what felt like an eternity. Slowly turning the possibilities in her mind. Kelsey was snapped out of a bit as Nasir picked Wishbone up, snuggling the happy puppy who most definitely wanted a treat by the way that tail was wagging. Kelsey found herself smiling again as she watched them. Too. Cute.

"It sounds pretty good to me." Kelsey mused. "Like Ramen noodles and stuff." She offered, watching as he lifted her hand. There was a roll of eyes and a good natured laugh. "i should slap you for how corny that way." Sliding up a little closer to him and Wishbone. "But, I'll let it slide this one time." Brushing her lips to his cheek and giving Wishbone a nuzzle.

Then her attention glanced back to the alcohol aisle too. "...Do you have anything you need to do tomorrow? Cause...my days free." Maybe trying to suss out if a hangover would harm any work in the morning. Not that they would even need to drink that much. But it was obvious, why she was asking. Because her attention was on the aisle. Alcohol didn't cause anything but trouble...but that was half the fun of it sometimes.

He smiled, a smile so wide his cheeks beamed with redness. Shyness, amusement, and tenderness all coalesced to betray a spread of freckles that once hid in the tanning of his skin, now shown vividly as his features went pale and crimson with sensation, appearing as dark little dots to spice away the otherwise craggy looks now assailed by the brushing of her lips, yet he wouldn't move them; he stood still until Wishbone's attention was stolen by her nuzzling, and the pup soon whined himself out of his hands, forcing Nasir to present him to her; to offer him in the chewing and gruff little complaints, and if she did take him he freed his hands to the sides, letting them hang as loosely as his mind was in recollection.

"Sunday? I don't have anything to do right now but they might call me tomorrow-- something may pop up, I mean. See, that's the responsible side of me, being honest with you," a beat, and a sink of his eyes now more thoroughly to hers, with lips puckering in brief, thinking form; "But the other, less responsible part says turn off the phone and lets get fucking wasted tonight."

He paused, strictly silent. He 'hummed' aloud while looking at Wishbone, seeing the little soul as a moral compass not to be ignored, and it brought forth a wisdom from within him somewhat hesitant at first. "So, why don't we go half-way on that note? Maybe we buy a couple of beers, to spice it up a bit, but focus more on the eating? I was hoping this would be more about getting to know you, and less about letting the alcohol know us."

Kelsey shifted a bit, smiling to Nasir and chuckling at Wishbone's antics, carefully taking him into her arms. Giving him a few more nuzzles and letting him lick at her as she listened to her shopping companion talk out his train of thought. "You're right. We shouldn't get wasted." As fun as that sounded. "I want to learn about you. And alcohol doesn't help that any." She nodded.

"Why don't you go grab a couple bottles of your favorite kind and I'll go grab the other two things on the shopping list. " Kelsey suggested, and assuming he was agreeable to it - she would do just that. Set Wishbone back on his feet and lead him off a short ways to where the heavy cream was kept and then to where the ground sausage would be. A beer a piece would be good to relax some with dinner. Let the conversation flow a little easier.

It was a fair plan. Besides, there was time right? So long as everything went okay with dinner...he said he wasn't going to anywhere. And Kelsey sure wasn't going anywhere. So there was plenty of time for late nights spent eating junk food, watching movies, and/or getting wasted together. Because that was the difference. Getting wasted alone felt depressing but, if you were getting wasted with someone - it was put in a different light. Even if the outcomes were the same. Kelsey would return to the spot where she left him not too long later, curious to see what he got.

There was no immediate admission from Nasir, his lips puckered some, turning left and right as if he weighted their options on its corners. Eventually, he 'hummed' agreeably and sent her off with a subtle squeeze of her right hip by his left hand, the last she'd get of him on her way to cream and sausage.

He entered the aisle next, the floorboards crunching under his straining weight as he wandered its many shelves and options. There, on one of the shelves, that pale ale. Expensive by comparison of most other beers but he didn't care- he had gotten paid the day before, and felt the richest man in the world when he slapped that wallet open in his palm and pulled that pack of hundreds out into his fingers. It'd probably last him that week alone, but why think about that? Budweiser was right in front of him. A sixpack, in fact. He took two- one in each hand, since three wasn't nearly enough to get him tipsy and six was just about enough to push him into the fringe of alcoholic looseness without throwing naps around. The basket had been left on her hand before she went off for the goods and so he was forced to hold both packs in a single hook of a hand, fingers caught between the holsters of each plastic frame that held them up.

When she returned she'd find him standing right outside of it, eyeing a suspiciously large dog at the other end of the shop; a German Shepherd, perhaps from the force judging by its blue navy harness, staring at Nasir suspiciously. He knows. And soon there she was, right beside him, greeted by his twitched, brief smile and the hoisting of the twelve beers easily by his palm. "What do you think?"

The expression on Kesley's face was a mix. Surprise, confliction. Two. Hadn't she said two bottles? Then there was that not-so-tiny part of her that was also thankful to see more than two bottles. Because, you know, if things started going south and the bottle was already gone...She tried to push the negative thoughts out of her head and swallowed. Flashing him a smile. "Sure. You're paying anyway." Giving him another little nudge as she worked to suppress her bundle of nerves. Besides. It wasn't like it was hard liquor. It'd take more than a few beers for her to start giving in to any inhibitions.

Wishbone was eyeing that German Shepherd. Curious, wanting to go to it but Kelsey kept a firm hold. "C'mon boy, let's go see what you wanna get." Nudging him down towards the pet aisle. He didn't need much prompting after that. Up and alert, following the smell of the various dog treats and food as they entered the aisle. Here, Kelsey gave a little bit of slack - letting him explore the toys on his level and the treats.

Her gaze drifted back up to Nasir. "Dinner shouldn't take too long to make. Longest part'll be letting it all simmer. So we can chill out and watch tv, talk, all that while we wait too." Was the offer made there. Mildly impressed by how easily he was holding the six-packs even though pretty much any guy could hold them the same way no doubt. Kelsey didn't care about what other guys could do though. No she-Kelsey stifled a little cough and quickly averted those blue eyes back to Wishbone. "See anything you like Wishbone?" She asked as he nosed at a bright blue tennis ball.

He was. He was paying- that little nudge wasn't the kind of inflict nerves, and he wasn't niggardly either, he was proud to be paying. This was his duty- this was those Arab genes and near-generations of an extremely religious cult that meant that him, as the man, must indeed pay for absolutely everything. His machismo scratched in all the right ways, he chased after Kelsey like a pup himself, free to roam after she let go of the leash that was his hand. His feet shuffled him after her, and he'd take a good look of many of the toys as if he too was bound to pick one for himself. Not the case, though; he just wanted to see something suitable for Wishbone outside of the pup's wants.

Chewables, balls, and even a little pillow with the face of a pug sewn in its shape. He laughed at the last one, pointing at it for Kelsey to share that little sting of humor.

At the prospects laid out, his gaze and head turned down to look at her, close enough so that his outward jaw almost sat against the protruding neckbone there, threatening to pop right out of his skin with how pronounced it was. "Alright. That sounds great- that's the plan, right? We can cook together, I'll help you; we can sit by whatever couch you've got laying around? Watch some streaming site? I've got some subs if you "have gots no subs" and watch some series in between. Anything to entertain you- you look a bit worn down, and not for the right reasons," and there, his counteroffer- subtle, so subtle perhaps she wouldn't catch it, yet that wry grin on his face of the playful nature catapulted his face forward to press a sudden, snapped kiss against her lips. Chaste, and instant- a thing he quickly pulled away from, as if it'd indeed warrant him getting slapped in the end.

Oh, Kelsey caught it alright, and it made that pale skin flare a little darker again. And then he was kissing her, which startled her out of her reverie. He pulled away but Kelsey found herself leaning in a little after him. But, was able to catch herself and instead just gave him a grin. "Netflix and chill right? That's what they're calling it these days?" Trying to get a little bit of her calm and collected demeanor back. Not sure entirely how successful she was.

There's a chuckle at the sewn pug pillow and a couple other toys. Wishbone had picked up the blue tennis ball and was happily carrying it in his mouth. Well, there was his toy. Kelsey also picked out a bone that would last a little while and motioned to two non-squeaky chew toys. One in the shape of a bone and the other in the shape of a steak. "Which of these you think?" She felt a little bad that he was paying but she figured he was getting payback in food and...other things.

"You can help me yeah. Of course. It's pretty easy, but I am technically down to one proper hand so - you can do the kale chopping." After one, if either, of the chew toys was picked, that would go in the basket and then Kelsey would start leading them towards check out.

Ah, yes, the matter of her appendage. It was easy to forget she had three fingers- in the back of his mind, there were ten fingers in the accumulative of both of her hands, and so when he saw those three digits come to the side - not that she particularly displayed them - he looked genuinely as curious as he did back at the gym, when she showed him the bandaging and whatnot. He thought about himself- about the many times it could've been his fingers, for his line of work; his handling of explosives in days gone by, many of his colleagues of the shared profession had lost appendages just the same. It was a bittersweet irony, that this equally crippled woman making him short of breath had such little flaw.

"That one," and soon he was pointing at the bone. It was iconic, as Wishbone looked exactly like Spike's little pup, from that particularly popular cartoon, the image and iconic blending all made as vistas in the front of his head that made him giggle in silence. His, however, was an awful giggle, sounding more like a coughing rotor than how amusement should.

"I'll cut the kale," he replied instantly, and wouldn't just let her get away from him on the path to the checkout, no- he'd throw out his hand and slip it quickly with hers, seizing it and using it as guide to be truly led off beside her towards the checkout machines. "You're going to see how shitty I am at chopping that kale, and complain. You'll probably even kick me out of your house."

It was easy to forget. Kelsey even forgot herself sometimes. Which made realizing she was missing two fingers rather disheartening and upsetting at times because it dredged up memories of the Dream that caused it. Still, it could have easily been her entire arm and that....that would have been so much worse. Kelsey supposed after a few more months, a year maybe, shed' get used to it. Until then, it was just swallowing her pride and trying to hide it under those longish flannel sleeves.

One day she would tell Nasir about it. After the discussion about the Weird of the town. Whenever that happened to be. The bone toy went into the basket and Kelsey gave Nasir's hand a squeeze as they walked. Falling into step beside him so she could snuggle up into him a little. The basket got placed on the conveyor belt and then she leaned down to take the ball from Wishbone temporarily so the cashier could get that as well.

She turned into Nasir, slipping her hand from his so she could instead drape it loosely around his neck. There was that mischievous little look like she'd had at Sweet Retreat the other night. Her body easily pressing against his. "I promise you won't get kicked out for your shitty chopping skills." Then in the same instant, she was letting him go and taking his hand again if able. "Your stirring skills though...if those are bad. I might have to give you the boot." A little smirk dancing on her lips.

Once they reached the belt he placed the packs of beer out and atop of it, letting them roll nicely behind the toys towards the cashier. That freed hand sought to match her little wanton for intimacy once her hand laid out across his neck, reaching in turn towards her waistline; to those hips, yet not from above, but digging a certain bit of fingers past the hem of her flannel to seek bare flesh, where they held her in place as eyes met, and the mischief was entirely reciprocated in body and soul; soul witnessed as a glint in the amber glow of his eyes. "I've got mad stirring skills," he proclaimed, without a single hint of amusement in his voice; with utter seriousness.

Her bare hip was released, the flannel brim loosened, and he caught her hand again as it came down, this time rubbing a thumb into her palm endearingly. Wishbone had already begun whining for the salivated ball as the cashier struggled to make sense out of the bar code coated entirely in doggish mouthwater, and she rubbed her sleeve's hem into the paper helplessly to continuously pass it through the laser, to no avail. "Just input the number manually," Nasir instructed, which earned him a really kind of look from her. She, however, did just that, and finally passed the rest. Twenty-eight bucks, there, on the screen, and he squinted. Twenty-eight, with twenty five cents? Holy shit. Cutthroats, criminals and thieves with aprons.

He begrudgingly placed a fifty bill laid out on the awaiting girl's hand, and watched her intently as she fished through for change. Ever-skeptical, he warily counted himself once those cents and bills fell in his fingers, with enough deftness to note he had been handling money for a while. Like an adult. Satisfied, he rolled it all up, slapped it into his wallet and hid the aforementioned away before throwing the ball at Wishbone's feet, letting him cradle it between his teeth before leading them both out by Kelsey's hand, towards the truck. "This place's expensive as hell," he mumbled quietly, furrowing his brows.

There was a pleased little noise from the blonde when that arm around around her and she felt those fingers dipping just under the clothing. "Good. I'd have been very upset if you didn't." The words were low, practically purred. Seeing that little look reciprocated had given Kelsey a smidge more confidence. However, not nearly enough to get too brave and careless with the PDA. So, back to handholding it was, and Kelsey was just fine with that.

She relaxed into him again, eyeing their purchase and then eyeing total. A tsk and a shake of her head. When they were leaving, she agreed with him. "Total thieves. But, they kinda got the corner market unless you wanna drive a few hours out to the closest Wal-Mart." She shrugged, watching Wishbone as he proudly carried his new toy out of the store. "Thank you though." She adds to him, leaning up to kiss his cheek once they've reached the truck. "For paying. Wishbone and I are very grateful."

Kelsey lingered close to him for a seconds longer and then would take the bags - letting him handle the six packs, as she walked around to the passenger side of the truck to get the bags and Wishbone all loaded up before climbing in herself.

Phase One: Shopping was now complete.

He eyed her warily in her closeness, for there was no reason perhaps normally to linger at such short distance even then, in the truck. It was weird- he kind of expected her to get inside right away, instead she was there, next to him, on the driver's side. He giggled softly, letting a single bag smoothly fall in her hands before he took care of the rest, loading it all in the trunk alongside the sixpacks, which went into a freezer that was surprisingly full of ice, where they'd remain cool and prepared for intake come time. The trunk itself had a lid, so there was not a chance it'd all go flying off once he clasped it down and the plastic clicked in place.

Nasir finally climbed into the truck after it was all loaded on, including her, with Wishbone eagerly pawing and climbing up the mountain that was Nasir's leg to rush up to his jawline, needing to lean with his little wibby feet against his chest to better reach the Arab's chin indeed. He saw both hands cradle the canine's little stomach, easing each thumb down against it to stroke it fondly while the rest of his fingers dug into his back's pelt. "Alright, alright, let me turn on the car," he begged quietly, his voice childish and playful, the kind one would use to address the underaged and whimsical. He lifted the less-than-agreeable pup and plopped him down on Kelsey's lap, freeing his front to dig the Silverado's keys into the ignition to turn it on with a smooth roar of the engine.

It went off without a hitch, and soon Nasir was driving them out of the parking lot and out into the road. Unlike last time, he turned on the radio and popped in a USB drive into its respective slot, digging through some songs on a playlist that soon culminated in some hard, alternative rock song that'd swing its jam in their cabin.

Kelsey had retrieved the ball before it could go rolling away as Wishbone went to clamor up on Nasir. She chuckled as she watched, holding her arms out so Wishbone could be more easily deposited. And then hooked her good arm around the pup to nuzzle into him and offer the ball once more.

"I like it." She commented of the music. Not a song agreed heard before but she was a fan of the genre. So all was good. Quietly humming along with the tune as she kept Wishbone entertained.

Luckily, they were past prime hour of the late afternoon and the roads looked relatively clearer than last time. To pass the time, Nasir forced a playlist of his liking upon the pair he rode with, one that Wishbone probably couldn't care for but Kelsey, perhaps, would find a liking to the relatively obscure, alternative rock and punk he regaled her with. His head even bobbed back and forth, yet not only that- his shoulders, his torso, all weaved and flowed with the tunes, while his left hand on the wheel tapped the plastic grip with its thumb accordingly to the tune. It was like a synergy, inflicted upon him by the music, and he ebbed with it smoothly, all which he clearly knew from the way he followed the rhythm of the electroacoustic flow.

It all lend itself to a quicker, smoother ride, and he made sure to lower the sound and adjust it accordingly so it wouldn't torment the little pup on the way home. If he saw as much as a flinch from him he'd work it down to below the fifty percentage, which kind of defeated the purpose of the hard bass but the dog's ears, clearly, had to be preserved. Nasir remained quiet for most if not all of the trip, only but casting a few, subtle glances her way, each with a degree of a smile, some smaller than others, and once they reached the house rather than park out on the street as he usually did he pulled up behind her car, or in front of the garage door - if there even was one - to emphasize on the idea of staying. And he was, after all.

"Good shit," he mused, most likely on the music and the shared taste, pulling the USB off the socket and slipping it into a pocket of the radio strap before turning off the truck. "You should show me what you like next time?"

Kelsey was content with the quiet and glad that the return trip didn't feel like it took as long. By the time they rolled up into the driveway, behind her car, Wishbone was flopped in Kelsey's lap idly chewing on the ball. He'd had an adventure today!

Kelsey gave him a few more scritches and smiled to Nasir. "Yeah I'll out something together so you can see what I like." Her own musical tastes tensed towards the older rock bands mixed with some heavy metal here and there. She opened the passenger door to get out with Wishbone and the bag he let her carry before waiting patiently.

Once he had the remaining things she headed up to the door to unlock it and open it up. Wishbone got unhooked from the leash and promptly bounded over to the couch and Kelsey would lead Nasir to the kitchen.

The living room was a stark contrast from the rest of the house. There was a variety of display cases, statues, strange taxidermied creatures and stacks of books and papers on the coffee table and in the recliner. The couch and a smallish TV were sandwiched inbetween all this.

The kitchen was clearly the most used. A variety of cookbooks were in a neat little row and there were different gadgets and decorations. The rest of the house, at s cursory glance was fairly plain. "If you wanna get the kale out of the fridge I'll start boiling some water." Solely focused on the task of cooking so she wouldn't have to wonder what he might be thinking about the interior of the house.

Holy shit, and he looked on. Creatures, so it couldn't be anything comprehensible to the average man. Creatures, and where the hell did they come from? He even had a frighten when he stepped inside, dropping one of the bags on the floor - luckily only filled with a dog's toy - to reach back like a cop in a shoot-out for a gun he didn't have in place, and one he didn't pull out either, ending with his index finger pointing at one of the abominations in surprise. "What the fuck?!" he finally called out to the air, more than just shocked. It took him some seconds to realize the inert situation of it all, and how they didn't move. He shook his head softly, bringing up a left palm into the depth of his now sweat-stricken curly hair, easing himself.

"Alright, so what's up with that?" he asked, trying his best to be casual about it. Trying, and failing, because there was a certain feeling of strain in his voice. Was she going to turn him into a statue of his soon lifeless self, made hollow? That'd mean death- ah, wait, he liked that. And so he walked into the kitchen, seeing Kelsey as the solution to more than one kind of problem now, with how amusedly his brows rose and features softened.

Nasir neared the fridge with an uncertainty, latching onto the clasp and half-expecting a corpse to be lodged inside as he pulled it open, revealing it to be just a normal fridge. Wonderful, and soon the kale was out, in his palm, on the way to the sink. He may have said he sucked at cooking, but he did this prodigiously; he washed the leaves nice and thoroughly, getting rid of any excess of soot from the leaves. Next, with the nearest form of a broad-bladed, quasisteak knife, he'd chop off the stems and roll the leaves like he rolls his joints, cutting them coarsely and finely for soup.

The creatures were indeed oddities. Two-tailed fox, a strange lizard-like thing, a four eyed frog, among others. Where had they come from indeed. Kelsey winced when she heard the shout from Nasir and maybe more surprised when she didn't head a door slamming and instead footsteps coming into the kitchen. She glanced over at him at his question of 'what's up with that' and didn't answer right away. Instead to started to put together her stock. One part water, two parts heavy cream, one part chicken broth.Trying to piece together her thoughts, and the best way to approach it perhaps. "Well." She finally says as she adds in the heavy cream and tilts her head to view him better. Watching him rinse off the kale.

"I told you. This town is weird. With a capital W. " Kelsey sighed, glancing towards the living room and then back to Nasir. "If you really wanna know about it. I'll tell you about it. It's a lot to take in and even harder to believe. But, you didn't turn and run the other way just now so...I'll tell you about it. And about my arm." She offers, turning back to the stock pot. "After we've had a couple beers. Or at least one. I need a little something if I'm going to try and be straight with you about it all."

Pour in the chicken broth. Trying not to dwell too much in the period of silence as she awaited his answer.

And what a period of silence it'd be. A prodigious period, in fact- a long-standing state of freezing where he only did look at her, and looked. If you really wanna know, I'll tell you about it, and holy shit. She was for real. It wasn't a fucking hobby, no- it wasn't a hobby, she was for real, and for real his gaze turned right to look back at the living room; to look at that cramped TV as the only source of common sense in the whole house. And Wishbone- Wishbone was exempt of all guilt, that mommy was nuts.

Quietly, Nasir dried the knife's blade into one of the kitchen drabs to sheath it away into a wooden holster, clearing his hands. He took a deep breath, she's good for you, he reminded himself, feeling the prospect fleeting as he took in the view of her features, and the way her hands went to work on the food. "Alright so, it's a hobby right, like; it's a whole hobby thing, you're like those mysterious girls that just, love the obscure, the statues, and all of that? Goth but, without being too much," he reasoned, the implication something not even he believed but he had to believe as he neared her, and caught a whiff of her scent. God, he'd rip the band-aid. It was his duty now, to see that band-aid off, but was it too soon? How could he exert his skepticism upon her, and challenge the crazy notions of monsters and creatures?

"You know it's all like, fake and stuff, right? Nightmares or whatever. This town's always invested people into believing the spooky stuff but it ain't real. It's all about a bunch of bullshit."

As the silence stretched on, Kelsey retrieved the turkey sausage that was going to be mixed with the ground italian sausage, finding a pan so she could start browning it. Then Nasir started talking and he could see that she was desperately trying to keep herself in check since her hair was still up and she was unable to hide behind it. And the look she gave him when he tried to imply she was a half-assed goth? Oh, poor Nasir...he was lucky that looks alone couldn't kill or he might have just dropped dead. Don't fuck this up Kelsey. Don't do it. Just, try to be reasonable. Just- Except that there really was no way to be reasonable with this topic.

"I wish it was all fucking fake Nasir." Kelsey started as she turned the oven on to let the pan heat up before rounding on him. "If it was all bullshit I'd have been long gone from this hellhole. Maybe I'd be sitting on a beach sipping a cold one. Fuck if I know. What I do know. Is that this fake shit is the reason I almost lost my arm. It's where all those things in the living room came from." She advances on him a little. "And I swear to whatever god might be out there - if you try to imply that I'm just a fucking fan girl again I will lay you out." There's clear irritation on her features.

"This is why I told you that you weren't ready. Because you can't even possibly entertain the idea that any of it COULD be real." Kelsey's gaze is focused soley on Nasir but from somewhere behind him, a kitcher drawer opens. "And why couldn't it be?" She demanded, even as a spatula lifted out of the drawer and flew right by him, into Kelsey's waiting hand. "WHY is it so unbelievable that there's more out there that we can't really explain? Give me one. Good. Reason." Turning on her heels, away from him and back to the stove.

"Everyone's so goddamned quick to point the crazy finger at anyone who so much as tries to entertain the possibility." Dumping the meat into the pan now that it was heated and using the spatula to keep it all broken up. "Wake the fuck up, Nasir." And the drawer that the spatula had come from also slammed shut. Just as if an angry person had slammed it closed.

Nasir kind of just stood there, because there was no better way to convey the need to, indeed, just stand there. Every one step she took towards him with her looks he met by taking a step back, after the concept of being "laid out," was put in the air. It wasn't in fear of her, no- he had no notion of her capacity for handing out naps but more-so feared the possibility that he'd have to defend himself from an attempt at being laid out in the wrong kind of laid. And it was in one of such withdrawing steps that the drawer snapped open, and he himself crashed the back of his waist into it. The whole thing rattled, right as the spatula rose past his head and his hand rose in reaction, failing to catch or cover from it as he wrongly assumed it went for his head, staggering to the side. "Jesus!" was his first reaction, bouncing onto a banister on his left while his gaze lingered on the recently open release of spatulas.

There came a point in Kelsey's explanation where Nasir just ceased to pay attention. Just like people who don't like what they're hearing, he essentially phases her out of his mind until she quite literally awakens him with her demand, in the end. Perplexed, his gaze searched left and right before finally putting out his right hand, using each finger as his exhibits were laid out. "Aristotle, Dmitry Ivanovsky, Gilbert Lewis, Wilhelm Ostwald," a beat; a short, little break of needing to ruminate through his head for more scientific fields. He pursed his lips, furrowing his brows.

This was his weapon, here; science, logic, studies. All manner of things he had to focus on to practice his field of engineering; "Isaac fucking Newton, hello?! Things aren't supposed to be flying aro-..." he was cut off by the drawer bashing itself shut behind him, making him shudder on the spot. Still, he kept his cool; still, he looked at her in silence, awaiting a response. What could it be? He didn't know. He just hoped it involved no flying objects.

"Just because they didn't discover it, or learn about it, or whatever, doesn't make it not real." Kelsey scowled, venting her building frustration by beating up the ground sausage in the pan! She wanted to crack open a portal into the Veil right now and push him through it. Let him figure that one out. "Things aren't supposed to be flying around." She mimics him in the way a child might mimic a parent. "We could try to talk this out all night long and get absolutely nowhere. Because you're too closed minded."

Kelsey keeps her focus on the food. "I could literally open up a portal to another world right now and I still think you wouldn't believe me. Which is sad. Really fucking sad. Because-" She stopped and frowned. Because could she even really see herself with someone who wasn't even open to the possibility of the unknown? Was she just wasting her breath? Speaking of, Kelsey drew in a sharp one. "Listen."

She turns back to face him, pointing the spatula in his direction. "I like you. Okay. I like you a lot, why? I don't fucking know. But I do. And I think, right now. If we want to keep liking each other, we need to not talk about this. Because it's just going to end with me kicking you out and never wanting to see you again if we keep on. Okay? So. Please." Then turned back to the pan.

Nasir took a deep breath yet again, trying his best to, yes, listen; to heed her warnings, but his face only did become more surprised - no, shocked - at her words, his shoulders straightening; his posture hardening and his expression, here, asserting itself on her as she accused him with the flat end of a spatula. "That's really fucking unfair," he replied, pointing right back at her with his index finger. "You're threatening to kick me out because I'm not entirely convinced that there's a world of muppets out there, somewhere? What the fuck, like-- that's fucking insane," he reached up, pressing a palm up to his forehead.

He stood there, with the hand laid against that forehead, for quite a while. If ever there was a face judging its options it was his, looking towards the door- looking not exactly with an intent to leave, but wondering if she meant it in true. He took the threat very seriously, if the grave weight of his face was anything to go by, and soon found himself looking at her once again.

"So we're just going to shove shit under the carpet, then? That's how you do business, dude? Kind of hoping to shut shit out of your life, keep me out of the loop if the stuff's not looking good, and hope I just smile us into a happy life? Fuck that. Go put on your sneakers and kick my ass out if it's going to be like that, I don't play plank face shit. I don't pretend shit's looking good-- my life's already shit as it is. Get real with me." He didn't consider how much of a mistake it was to engage a woman in argumentative while she was cooking, but it was too late now- everything was a bit too late now.

Part of Kelsey desperately wished, in that moment, that her mental abilities were stronger. That she could just show him what she wanted to say. Let him feel it. Her movements are very controlled. He can see a tremor now and then as she gets a handle of herself. "No. Not that you don't believe. but that you aren't even open to the idea!" She shoots back. The pan gets pushed off the heat and she shrugs off her flannel. Her arm is going to hurt like a mofo later but the adrenaline coursing through her currently as her ignoring it.

"You want me to get real with you Nasir? Fine. Let's get fucking real." Kelesy narrowed those blue eyes at him dangerously. Then turned her back to him and focused on the space between them and the small kitchen table nestled in the corner. She tried to clear her mind some, focus it. It wasn't so easy when half of her just wanted to throw things at the man standing behind her. Her hands moved, fingers guiding a sort of circular shape. And then, as if putting a key in a lock, there was a shift in the energy of the kitchen. An almost electric feeling. Like a calm before the storm.

An electric sort of crack seemed to appear out of nowhere and quickly open wider. Enough for a person to walk through. Enough to glimpse into the other side. Likely, because Kelsey's mind was in a bad place, she recognized the area as towards the edge of the Firefly Forest. The edge that bled from safe space to Dream space. Where things didn't make sense and the forest felt wrong just looking at it. She knew it wouldn't stay open long, but Kelsey was on the alert to make sure that nothing tried to come through.

Her head tilted to look towards Nasir. "Is this real enough for you?" That look in her eyes daring him to tell her it wasn't. Then she looked back towards the portal. In the distance, a few strange shapes could be seen moving about. Perhaps some sort of animal like beings? There was a small feeling of impending doom in the pit of Kelsey' stomach. Surely, she was going to be paying soon for this excessive use of her powers.

Again.

That, there, was the first time perhaps when the first hints of power echoed in his poor perception of preternatural reality. In the danger of her eyes, in the passion of her driven thought, and the want to make it as palpable and real for him. When that shine shone off her body, when that strength emanated off of her like a fire, one he couldn't let turn wild; one he couldn't allow spread. He knew when someone was on the verge of doing something exceedingly stupid, and this crazy bitch was about to do just that.

As soon as she turned her back on him, Nasir moved forward. As soon as that reverberating show of power loosened out of her body, he sought to wrap his own arms around her; to embrace her from shoulders to elbow, from elbow to wrist, and tie her hands together across her stomach, and prevent the making of the rift and the breach of reality; to prevent the tear and opening into the Otherworld, and preserve the sanctity of her household.

"Alright, alright, alright," his fingers sought to wrap with her seven, and make a shameless union of appendages to collapse and lock them from starting yet another display of her capacity before him. His chin docked down on her shoulder and there it'd press, if he seized her indeed, to press his cheek against the side of her head.

"I believe you. Please-- take a breather and stop whatever it is you're doing, alright? And God, yes, very sexy that you pulled off your shirt but you don't also need to pull your stitches because of me. I'm here, Kelsey; I'm here and I'm not running away. Don't make me feel guilty for pushing you into this corner," his explaning was quick, and assertive; his limbs sought to squeeze her with every checkpoint of his explanation, to better emphasize on being here, there, with her, in it all, before his tone lowered, to a more intimate grip. "You got too real. Too fucking real too quick. Why don't we talk about it over some soup?"

Kelsey was stunned when Nasir was suddenly wrapping her up. The portal was closed as quickly as it opened as her concentration was broken. She could feel the heat of him through the thin fabric of her tank top. There was a delayed reaction as the pain of her arm being jarred (her own doing combined with him grabbing her up raced through her. A strangled sort of cry escaped her. One that couldn't finish fully and left her breathless as she tried to cope with the pain and his words and the lump in her throat that she was trying desperately the swallow.

I'm here Kelsey. The blonde could feel hot tears pricking the corners of her eyes as she leaned heavily into the man that was holding her. Shutting her eyes tightly and willing away the tears. "I need..." She choked out, drew in another ragged breath, "That pill bottle. On the windowsill. Please." She'll blame the tears on the pain. Not the relief that he was staying or the guilt that she was feeling herself for doing all the things she said she wasn't going to do when it came to this stuff and Nasir. She would pull away from him - gently - if he'd let her, sinking to the floor against the cabinets. "Fuck me." She breathed out, closing her eyes again and cradling her arm.

"I'm sorry." She murmured. "I'm sorry, I just. I got....carried away." Was putting it lightly, but whatever. The pill bottle was pain pills. Almost empty. Hydrocodone to be precise. Kelsey would push herself back up to standing, holding her good hand out. "I just need one of them." The pills probably. Once it was in hand, she dry swallowed it, following it up with a small handful of water from the sink. She stood there for a minute, staring down into the sink and trying to compose herself. "Soup. Yeah. Go ahead and add the kale." She said finally, glancing over to him and then going back to the stove so she could put the pan back on the heat and finish off the browning.

Another period of silence from her before, "I'm sorry I doubted you." Doubted he would stay. Doubted he would listen to her in any capacity (well, that one was more 50/50). Doubted that he had meant some of things that had passed between them on the dock. Doubted more than she thought she did.

The browned meat would be added in after the kale. The pain starting to subside from the hydrocodone. Kelsey would place the lid on top of the put and set it to simmering. "...And now,we wait." And she needed a fucking drink. Pain pill be damned.

He tried to be as delicate as he could on the limb, but softness came second to a desire to bring her down from the high of adrenaline that seized her. It wasn't just his arms that embraced her, but his whole body; it was a full layering of chest, stomach and hindquarters that caught into her, and tugged her in, ensuring there wasn't a portion of his warmth that wasn't lent to her body, and exchanged for the cold of her uncertain anchor to his physique. The fear, the uncertainty, the unknown, he could feel it all, Glimmer be damned indeed, he needed not a mental capacity of magic to understand her emotions and the fear of abandonment that came with being different.

He didn't want to let her go, the whimpering, the hard inhale of her constant bleating. He couldn't believe how much he didn't want her to cry, a part of him wanted to shake her around, to make her stop, when those tears came crashing into his forearm. When she sought to pull away, there was some resistance. She'd find herself tugged still, until she tried again, and he acknowledged it was more than mere instinct, but a desire to part, which prompted his arms to unfurl and loosen not entirely, but helpingly, in seeing her lean and sink down against the cabinets. That pill bottle, and off he was like a bullet; like a trained dog of sorts, taking the bottle from the windowsill and giving it a quick, studious look of whatever label it had on it, if it had any at all.

He tapped the bottom and worked a pill into his palm, placing it between her fingers after reaching her again, and he stayed- he didn't let distance grow again, lingering beside her with a hand that laid against her lower back and only did lift to have him fetch the kale, throw it in the pot and soon as that was done he walked beside her again, returning the palm where it now figured it belonged. "No, we don't wait, now we talk. And don't be sorry, don't be- you're giving me too much credit." He leaned in, pressing his lips squarely against her shoulderbone, not settling for one kiss but a set of apologetic little pecks all the way up to the base of her neck, where he finally rested his cheek, in tandem to that arm behind her that squeezed her hip and tugged her closer. Who cares that they were dangerously close to the kitchen still?

"Listen, I know what it is to have a past. To have something that ticks you just right to send you into a spiral; to be afraid of not being taken seriously, and not be afforded the respect you deserve. I'm sorry if I made you feel like you didn't deserve it, and you don't have to tell me what happened in the past that got you like this- I don't care about the past, man. My past is shit, yours is probably shit too, I want a better future. Do you want a better future, do you see me in that future?" his words were muffled little appeals against the curve of her throat, ones which he appealed to her with little turns of his cheek and jawline, brushing his beard against her flank, as if to help her weight the given options in his favour with the raking of his facial hair.

There was another brief moment of tensing from the blonde. When his lips found her shoulder and his hand tugged her closer. At least she wasn't crying right? Kelsey turned carefully so she could face him. So she could lean into his touch and that gentle scratching of his beard as she listened to him.

"The past sucks." She agreed quietly as her good arm hooked around his waist so she could press into him. Relaxing against the counter. "It wasn't always. It was decent. Boring even." Her past. "Until it wasn't anymore." Her head tilted so she could nuzzle into his neck. Breathing in his scent and finding a bit of comfort in it.

Did she see a future with him in it? This man she still barely knew and hadn't know existed less then a week ago. Who made her feel all kinds of things. Even if he was a stubborn asshole. She could be too. Kelsey lifted her head finally. Moved her arm so she could encourage him to lift his too.

"I do want a better future. And I know shit's not perfect. That it won't ever be. But I...I haven't met anyone who makes me feel the way you do. Which scares me half to death. " Her fingers trailed over his scruff for a moment. "There's big part of me hoping my better future has you in it." The closest he'd get to a yes.

Kelsey studied him for a moment longer and then, if he let her, she'd lean up to kiss him again. A long lingering kiss this time.

From the start, the embrace was strange- his height didn't help him in having to lean down to appease her in the hug, and when she turned he was forced to lift his head and straighten it some in order to be able to even see her eyes again, kind of like a creature whose neck had to be craned back into slender form, and it even had its own little 'crack' to accompany its hard, re-arranging process part of his all-entirely strained physique. Once the process was thorough, there, perched on his dark, craggy contour a smile. A soft, subtle thing- as subtle as all his shows of joy where, and he let her speak rather than pollute the conversation with his 'muleness'. Luckily, both of his hands were good relatively, so when his right hand rose it was five of its fingers' intermediate phalanges that pressed against her left cheek, sinking in, stroking it down to her chin before resuming path up to her forehead.

"You're right, it'll never be perfect. It will always suck, I think; it will always suck for us. And at the same time, I think it's because we choose, in a way, for it to suck- we choose our burdens, our responsibilities, even if we don't choose the horrible shit that happens to us. Only how to deal with it," in his response, he took several, worn beats for air. His tone was low, and intimate between them, for the topic wasn't something for Wishbone's ears. In a way, he spoke to himself through her; in a way, she was a catalyst to a hidden formula that reached him when he himself couldn't. It brought a strange peace to him, to see her calm; it was like the spiritual arcana Minerva spoke to him- in that which he learned could never heal himself, but others. That was the ticket.

Before his train of thought choo-choo'd out of 'brainstation', she encroached into his lost expression and made for his lips. They were unmoving, first; distracted, even. Instinct, however, did lead that hand against her face to spread, and seize almost all of her head within his fingers and palm, holding her in place to kiss her in return. It wasn't so much a kiss as it was a sigh, of relief? Of worry? Of uncertainty? Perhaps all of them. Once they parted ways heralded by a subtle little airlocked smack of lips he did so with a smile, and coarse little snicker; "Just to be clear," he whispered, ever-playful; "When I mean the future I'm talking about like, this week? Because you wanted to kick me out like twenty minutes ago. Just making sure you're not kicking me out still."

"Maybe. Maybe it will. Maybe you're right. But going through it with someone is better than alone. Right?" Kelsey asked softly. Searching his expression for, well Kelsey wasn't sure.

When their lips parted and he spoke again, Kelsey chuckled. A quiet, nearly breathless sort of chuckle. "No. No I'm not going to kick you out. Not tonight." There's a quick little wink as she straightened some. "But I was serious about that Goth fan girl shit. That will get you kicked out" Kelsey brushed her lips to his cheek and then turned slightly to check on the pot.

"I'll try not to get too real for the foreseeable future" Kelsey gave a wry smile. "This...should be done soon. Can you grab one of the instant potato packets from the pantry there?" Nodding towards a little closet door in the kitchen.

It was difficult for Nasir to convey re-assurance there when she searched for it. He looked to be making up the shit as he went; to wing confidence, pretend confidence and exhume confidence when he himself felt little of it on the inside, but faking it was just right; it was just about enough to struggle a smile in return, and live through her breathless chuckle with a soft little pat of his palm on the side of her torso; an endearing one. "What's wrong with Goth fan girls? I'm not saying I'm particular to their aesthetics, the whole black only stuff, but they've got their own thing going on, you know? You're being too hard on them."

Nasir paced across the room easily in direction of the supposed pantry, having to dig through a couple of them; to check labels, and read names before finding the instant potato packet. What the fuck was an instant potato packet anyway? He read the instructions all the way back to her and summarized right as he placed it into her hand that it must've been some crone-kitchen-related-shit he didn't want to know anything about.

"Alright so let's get down to the swiss cheese of it all and hit up the living room. Tell me everything about why you made the statues, the shapes; tell me about the taxidermy, and do it without cuts or hesitations. I want to know the whooole fucking thing, Kelsey. The whole thing, you understand? If I start to feel like you're being easy on me afraid of what I'm going to think I'm out."

Kelsey stayed quiet save for a defiant "hrmph" when he said she was being too hard on the Goth girls. The instant potato mix was exactly what it sounded like. Potato flashed and seasoning to make instant mashed potatoes. In this case however they would just thicken the soup.

"Alright. We'll talk about it. " she got down two bowls and set them on the counter. "This isn't almost done but we've got time to get started." She agreed, taking his hand to walk back into the living room. Wishbone was sitting at attention on the couch watching them closely as they entered. As if to ask if everything was okay

Kelsey let go of Nasir to lift Wishbone and nuzzle against him. "We're okay boy." She murmured. Then sat down and him atop her. Motioning for Nasir to sit next to her. "I'm not really sure where to start. So i guess. From the start." She exhaled softly.

"I was in Nebraska. Late 2015. Halloween. I love Halloween." Of course she did. "Anyway. I was on a double date at this haunted house. And...I don't want to get into the nitty gritty. But some psycho kidnapped me and a few other people and we lived a SAW movie. Well. I did." Kelsey kept her hand scritching along Wishbone. "I was the only survivor. It really fucked me up." Glancing at him.

"But it was my first encounter with learning something was different about me. I was in and out hospitals and psych places...a therapist finally recommend Gray Harbor as a place to get away and start over. " there's a cynical chuckle. "Lately I've been wondering if they knew what was going on and the truth about this town and thought knowing it would help me."

The plot thickens, he realized, as he stared into that watery pot that too thickened after the potato mash spread inside of it. Bubbling, some boiling and how it unfurled like a curtain of beige out and within, it brought an esoteric, unexplainable feeling to the back of his head while being entirely caught in seeing it happen. Regardless, he was eventually forced to indeed move away; to take her hand and be led away by her three-pronged fingers in direction of the living room.

Nasir knew minefields well, but he didn’t know this one in particular. He had to be careful- he knew any one strange glance to an object, any frown; any grimace could well put her in a position where guilt and sadness may overcome, and he wanted to avoid that. It helped, perhaps, to see her little guardian stand up on the couch and glare at Nasir as they entered.

Punk-ass Nasir, mhm; yes, that look, he knew it well. Square up, as Wishbone stood, preparing his guns for arms - puppy arms - with a doggish, furrowed set of jowls. Even after Kelsey scooped the pupper up his gaze lingered on Nasir as warning; as foreboding cautioning, that should he slip, indeed, he’d probably bite the Arab’s head off.

Or at least that’s how it felt. He’d be hell of a dog when he grew bigger and older, and stronger. Nasir didn’t know how to feel about that.

Before sitting, he took to the task of seeing his timbs uncoiled and loosened, so that he could nicely take them off and align them neatly beside the couch, revealing his feet covered by ankle-high black socks that disappeared into his pantaloons. There was no smell, thankfully- he had worn his good socks and probably his good boxers, too. His mother taught him well.

Once he sat and laid out across the couch, he did so with his back set against the armrest opposite to her, his feet pulled up so he'd sit cross-legged, listening intently. His expression changed as she explained, to ironic and sardonic amusement to genuine, shocked surprise, and finally the sympathetic understanding that the back and forth through psychs and wards probably did, indeed, suck.

"Anyone who tells anyone to come here is a real piece of shit, so I doubt it. Wanna leave?"

"Sometimes I do." If Kelsey noticed the protective stare down that Wishbone was giving Nasir she didn't comment on it. "Sometimes I think it'd be great to pick up and leave but. Where would I go? I don't want to go back to my parents. Or Nebraska. I don't have any places in mind where I'd like to live permanently. Visit sure? But not stay long term." Kelsey shrugged.

"Besides. I know it's hard to wrap your head around. I struggled with it too...but there's something in this town. There's the world it sits next to. I discovered I could cross into it and I've been exploring ever since. That's where these came from." A motion to a couple of the taxidermied animals.

"I want to study it. And I think..." She knows it's about to sound insane. "I think one of the creatures that lives there...I think it was responsible for what happened to me somehow. " her attention turned from him back to the pup. "So I can't leave. Not yet."

Strangely, Nasir didn't seem at all alarmed by this one particular stretch of her insanity. In fact, when the I think... came through, he himself saw each of his brows rise; he himself saw doubt hinting on a rise of his senses whole. He saw his own face on hers, and that same doubt echoed through him in the most strange of Déjà Vu's. He edged himself closer to her side of the sofa with some brushing of his knees, wary of Wishbone - Wishbone who hadn't bothered to keep looking at him at this point - perhaps due to having emasculated Nasir enough for the night after his little fight with Kelsey with a mere look.

The scolded Arab snuck a hand in as she herself looked down at the pup, digging a few of his knuckles into his little scoop of a neck to stroke and bring the flabby skin between his fingers, tugging it softly; gently and with no small degree of endearment. "I know exactly what you're talking about," with his admission, a beat; he didn't want the beat linger long though, didn't want to give Kelsey a chance to jump in with an "I told you so," or anything of the snarky type - even if it didn't happen, he took his measures - and soon after continued; "When I lost most of my platoon I too realized something. The memory is hazy, but I know one fundamental thing. What led to the massacre wasn't human alone. We were puppets, working to the whims of a greater evil whose strings were the vice, fear, and wroth of man then."

Those fingers that sought out the pup didn't stay on him long, it was an excuse, that; an excuse to touch Wishbone, his use letting him smoothly follow into pressing his palm flatly into Kelsey's navel, where his fingers outstretched and there his hand lingered, atop the cloth; "I believe you, Kelsey. A part of me wants to believe if only to give an explanation to a hundred things I can't explain, but I'll be more honest than that; if I don't believe you we'll just not work out. And I'm willing to be called crazy if I can just keep hanging out with you. What does that say about me?"

Kelsey leaned her head on the back of the couch, closing her eyes as he responded. There was no 'I told you so' on her lips, though she was thinking it pretty hard. Listening to him talk about his platoon and how they got wiped out. "I'm sorry that you had to go through that Nasir." She opened her eyes when she felt is warm hand on her stomach. Those eyes slowly travelling over to the Arab.

"They feed on fear, hatred...all things negative...I just. Once I know for sure. Then maybe I can find a reason to leave. " Kelsey moved her hand from Wishbone and laid it over Nasir's. There's a wry smile, maybe almost a sad one. Because it's true. If he didn't believe her - at least a little bit - it wouldn't work. There'd be too many things she couldn't talk to him about. Too many questions and probably a lot of fights and maybe even accusations.

She squeezes his hand a bit. "That you're probably already a crazy son of a bitch." Kelsey says it plainly, shifting a little to face him, which causes Wishbone to jump down and flop on the floor. Playing with his ball. "But that you meant what you said on the dock. I meant what I said earlier. I like you a lot. And I want to keep hanging out with you too." She lifts his hand off her naval area so she can clasp it with her other hand as well. Both hands, oddly clasping his much larger one. "And it will be messy and it won't be easy. And if tonight's been any preview we may just drive each other up a wall sometimes..."

A soft breath was inhaled once more. "But I think this is a good thing. Whatever it is...wherever it may end up...it's the first thing I've really thought about as being good in a long time."

Very subtly, Nasir inched himself towards her as she took a hold of his hand. His hand, God; what a mess of a hand that was. A face couldn't do glory to the message his palm conveyed. No words, no painting, no adjectives could spell the wisdom that every leathery crevice on that grip had. His fingers were slender, long and made gnarled thick by thirty years of tinkering; of handling heavy implements, and making grand and not so grand things out of them. Callouses from one end to the other, each clammy and ample in how they made for a rawhide of a grip.

A grip that turned into her own two hands, letting each finger lose themselves in their own way amidst her own, and let him stroke in turn through index and thumb what he could of her hands each. "Fuck it. I don't give a shit. This is going to sound cliche, and I don't care, but nothing good's ever easy-- nothing is. And I never backed down from a fight, especially not the good fight; you'll be my good fight, the good fight." He shared that smile, somewhat hapless; somewhat surrendered to the situation. By how he looked at her, and his eyes lingered so, it wasn't hard to guess where his decision lied.

The same way he looked at her then, at the docks, forlorn and thinkingly. Nasir had a way with brooding, it was almost a natural state for his features, and now mind. He was just damn good at it.

Soon enough, he looked around for a certain item laying around, his head tilting in heralding of a question to come; "So, do we have any controller for that TV? We can watch some stuff while the food's simmering. What do you say?"

Kelsey took her time. Letting her fingers feel over his calloused skin. Enjoying the warmth since her's always seemed to be a little cold. The good fight. She lifted his hand to kiss it gently. "Then we'll fight the good fight together." She decided as she laid his hand back down. Compartmentalizing the various emotions and thoughts still swirling within the storm that was her. Her gaze wandered up his arm, collarbone, to settle on his face and that brooding expression. Damn he looked good when he did that. Well, he looked good all the time, but //especially/ in this moment.

She barely registered that he'd asked about the TV. Then she chuckled, releasing his hand. "Yeah. Of course." She leaned over to grab the remote, which was hiding under a couple older newspaper clippings. She turned the box on and handed the remote over. "Put on whatever you want. I'm not pick." Then, Kelsey shifted closer, finally closing that last little bit of distance so she could curl up against him. The flames of fighting were gone, for tonight at least. For now. He was still here and they'd made a little bit of progress even on learning about each other.

Before she indeed closes in the distance and while in search of the controller, Nasir worked the buttons of his shirt one by one, letting it spill open to reveal the simple, white and sleeveless wife-beater that hung from his neck and revealed some of the hair from his chest in its dangle. He pulled his limbs out of the shirt's sleeves, letting the cloth drop to the side and his hand stack the flannel beside him.

His arms were, for a lack of a better term, a complete mess. Veins looked popped and coagulated against the skin of his elbows, and his left arm appeared entirely littered with dots and injection marks from recent, not entirely hygienic usage of syringes. Some had been infected and healed poorly, turning scarred and sodden against the flesh. Certain portions of his forearm, hairy as it was, had patches of deep, bloody red below it, from blocked arteries.

The decrepit sight was exacerbated by just how veiny his arms were, vascularly displaying the extent of his failings against the leather of his flesh. It was one of those arms that moved around her, the other curling lazily with an elbow against his lap to better adjust the remote, turning on the TV. "Got Netflix, or a subscription of any sort? Marion lend me theirs, so we could always use that. He doesn't mind."

Kelsey had questions about those arms. Lost of questions, and a few concerns. And yet, she didn't want to raise them just yet. Maybe a little later tonight, after they'd eaten. Instead, she relaxed into his side, enjoying the feel of that warm, veiny, leathery arm around her and against her bared skin. Her injured arm was places carefully out of the way - in her lap. Though the pain medicine had kicked in rather well. "Honestly I mostly just watch Food Network, if I watch TV at all. Otherwise - it tends to be a lot of youtube when I'm at the computer." Kelsey laughed. "If they won't mind you using their stuff - sure we can watch Netflix." She agreed. "I just gotta grab my laptop and hook it up."

Her head nestled in the crook of his neck. "What sort of things do you like to watch?" Dragging her eyes from the TV to the man holding her. If he wanted to do the Netflix thing, only then would she get up from the comfy spot beside him to retrieve her laptop and an HDMI cable to put everything together. Then settle beside him once more. And once more she was struck by just how...normal this moment felt. Like, this was something they did every weekend. Minus the argument and touching on the weird stuff. She subtly pinched herself. Just a little. Just to remind herself that this was really happening. This was real and he was real and here.

Thankfully, no ounce of Nasir needed to question the reality he was subjected to- he, in fact, didn't consider anything at all surreal about the moment. Instead, he let that girl slip away from his grip if only momentarily, to indeed fix together the cables and necessary connections while he wondered, while gone, on what to watch. "Fuck I don't know, like, how about a movie? Something about Texans. Some real ugly, Tarantino shit where there's a lot of bloodshed," he prompted, tilting his head gently as she moved back in; as she settled back into his lap, this time that arm that ended up weaving around her quite literally scooping her up, docking a nice half of her rear into the angle of his diaphragm.

This time, it was both of his upper limbs that wrapped around her, each remaining quietly around her navel in overlapped hands. It was the most comfortable method of holding her, especially with how it helped him cup her limb and relieve it of even more pressure from its sheer, burdening weight and the pain that may well return if prompted beyond her analgesics. "We could always watch some Food Network if you don't want to get too focused on what we're watching?"

"As long as it's not a horror movie." Kelsey relaxed into him, easily getting comfortable on his lap and feeling some general comfort being wrapped up in his arms. "Thriller, suspense, action, blowing shit up. I'm good with all of it. But I can't stomach like Texas Chainsaw and shit like that anymore. Maybe in a few more years. But it still triggers some PTSD-like feelings." She leaned her head back a bit to rest her cheek against his. There's a bit of mischief in her voice when she murmurs to him, "What'll be focused on if not what we're watching, hm?"

A light little tease, giving him a light kiss on his scruffy cheek. "Put on whatever you want so long as it's not a horror movie and we'll see what happens. " She's keeping an idle ear out towards the kitchen and her nose too, to make sure nothing starts burning or bubbling over and the like.

"Django," he says immediately and fumbles with the remote some to go through the interface. It was a new controller in his hands and the buttons, the arrows, everything felt immediately alien to him as he passed through the red platform with speed. He even had to sink his thumb a little bit harder than he'd like into the thing, product of his fingers having the kind of broadness that had him pressing more than one before getting through to the command he wanted from the squared little thing.

Eventually, the movie manifested, and the necessary starting credits one would expect from such Hollywood film. He squeezed her a little tighter in turn, turning that scruff she so endearingly teased with her lips to press a peck of his own into the rightmost edge of her jaw. "I don't know," he coyly replied, digging a finger into her shirt to roll and coil the fabric in it, pulling it up from her waistline and away from her navel until it crunched by her midriff, bundled up to his knuckle; "We could always talk while we watch. You never did tell me why you stuck your arm into a woodchipper."

Kelsey felt a small shiver of anticipation race up her spine as her midriff was slowly exposed. Half paying attention to the intro credits of a movie she's probably already seen. "Well, then I'd have to get into how it wasn't really a wood chipper. And the whole thing was more like a Nightmare on Elm Street deal." Her hips shifted a bit. A small grind against his lap. "Like, it was a dream but it really, fucking hurt." Looking over at him again. "So, we can save that story for another day."

He was distracting. The proximity, the tone of his voice, the touch of his skin against her own. It was written all over her face that she didn't want to talk. Honestly, perhaps, the only two things keeping her from outright just starting to try and rip his clothes off was the fact that such an action would not be recommended with her arm and also there was an adorable puppy keeping an eye on them. Like a parent watching their child on a first date and making sure things don't get too fun. "Unless you really wanna hear it." She murmured, hips shifting so she could do another grind against him.

It was like a slow, creeping feeling of blood and muscle pooling deep into his hindquarters from the moment of that subtle, shuffled grind of her rear into his groinage. A sudden breeze galed across the nape of his neck, lifting every air and every rise of muscle in one straining clutch, as if a leather-gloved stranger had just moved in and seized him by it. He tried his best not to move back; not to act in turn and thus worsen the situation at hand any more than it needed to be. Django, Django, have you always been alone? Went hard in the background, yet he couldn't give any two shits about Django at the time. Not Django nor Luis Bacalov.

He struggled for words, to complain; to bemoan the circumstances of her deflection, and he tried to re-affirm his desire to hear her yet again and just then, as he felt a recuperation from the sultry deed of her rubbing, she brushed some more. Life must go on, ooo-oon; for you cannot, spend your life, regretting. He took a deep, deeper than deep, breath- he felt the twang and fret-like playing on the guitar's fingerboard emanating off the TV, and found it almost fitting; almost foreboding enough, that she knew not she was just about to plunge herself into another wood chipper.

Soon, his head tilted down; sooner, his teeth bared and took to a bite of wanton into the side of her neck. Her shirt soon became nothing more than tissue, one he ripped as easy as his hands moved opposite to one another on their clutching hold on it. There was no secret here, next; there was no room for doubt, as clothing fell away and palms squeezed at bare flesh, that Tarantino wasn't exactly what Nasir wanted at the time.

Her. He wanted her. And the night delivered.
Oh Django, after the showers the sun.