Participants:
| Scene Title | Hold Me, Dearest |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | There is mushy gushiness. There are also flat-out lies. Luckily, what Trask doesn't know can't hurt him — can it? |
| Date | April 18, 2019 |
Abby's apartment - a spare bedroom
It's early morning, Abby left a message she wasn't coming home last night, and Norton Trask is lying in bed, Elle Bishop curled up next to him. He woke about five minutes ago, but hasn't moved, afraid to wake her, wanting to let her sleep. He watches her, she looks so innocent when she sleeps, so at peace. His fingers brush a few blond hairs from her face as she starts to move a little.
At the feel of Trask's fingers on her skin, Elle's eyelids flutter open halfway, bringing her the rest of the way into wakefulness. When she sees who and what it is, the watchful look quickly sinks out of them to be replaced by a milder, sleepier one; she smirks a small amount as she shifts, reaching for Trask's forearm to cradle it in front of her chin. Momentarily, at least. "What time is it?" she murmurs, as the tightly closed blinds behind them give little indication.
Trask smiles and kisses her tenderly, "I think it's close to Eleven, we over slept some. How are you feeling this morning?" He smiles and holds her tenderly, but protectively.
Eleven. Buh. Instinct pulls Elle into a half-sitting position on the bed, though as Trask wraps his arms around her, she allows herself to lean backwards into him and return the kiss. Just a smooch, light and quick. She gives a short little sigh afterwards, forming a teensy but wry smile. "Fine. I'll admit— I'm not really used to sleeping so late." The Company almost certainly would have discouraged such idleness.
Trask says, "Well…the army taught me to get sleep when you can…and we don't have to be anywhere right now. What are your plans today?" He voice is soft, almost a whisper in her ear."
The smile twitches into a wider, more pleased look, at that. Elle presses Trask's arm closer against her, using the other to just rest on a section of her sheets, fingers curving idly. "You just said it. We don't have anywhere to be. We could head over to Dorchester for the day, or…" she turns her head upwards, giving his lips a slightly longer, more teasing kiss than the one before. "…I could spend it here, with you." Hurhur.
Trask grins and returns the kiss, eyes on hers he smiles tenderly, "I would like that….eventually we might want to get some food, but for right now just lying in your arms sounds like the perfect day."
With her own eyes remaining closed for just an extra second, Elle smirks glibly. A long minute ticks by as she lets herself be settled against Trask, musingly stroking at the back of his hand with her fingers, but it isn't long before her latent restlessness surfaces again. This won't do.
She wriggles out of his arms with one sly backwards look, crossing over to the room's window to put her hand between two of the shutters and peek out. A ray of sunlight falls across her like a stripe, then vanishes as she removes her hand. "Did you have anything you need to do?"
Trask shakes his head and streteches a little in bed, yawning. "Nope I am all yours, if you want me." He grins and gets up. "I could make breakfast if your hungry? What do you usually do with your days off back home?"
Taking a step back from the window, eyes narrowed thoughtfully, Elle looks kind of wry for a second. "I actually haven't had many of those." Anytime she has, it's been spent either in a hospital bed, a temporary psych ward, or a room with more work to be finished. She tilts her head at Trask over her shoulder, lips quirking. "You know, breakfast sounds wonderful." What with Abby being out…
Trask smiles and pulls on a pair of pants then comes over and gives her a soft kiss on the back of the neck, "Any requests?" He puts his arms around her in a soft embrace before turning to head for the hallway door, hesitating at the door for an answer.
"Mmm. I could go for that omelette thing you made the other day." As Trask disappears out the door, Elle stays behind briefly to get her own outfit in order, emerging after not too long in a white tanktop and sweatpants. Her hands comb at her hair over one shoulder, readying themselves to work it into a ponytail as her bare feet tread down the hallway. "Heh. Wonder how Mr. and Mrs. Decks are doing." There doesn't seem to be a sign of Isabelle, at least. For all practical intents and purposes, they have the house to themselves right now. This is a nice development.
Trask is already sizzling bacon and eggs and chopping vegtables. "I hope everything is going good for them. I think Abby really deserves happiness, after everything that has happened to her. Good people too often don't get what they deserve." He smiles at her as he adds veggies to the skillet.
Is that smile a suggestion that Elle is one of those downtrodden good people? How quaint. "Why, what's happened to her?" she asks with some interest, resting her elbows in the kitchen counter to look around at the placemat and old newspapers strewn around it.
Trask says, "She…She has a rule…she heals anyone who asks or needs, she doesn't care what side they are on. And a lot of people take advantage of her for it, they kidnap her, or beat her, or even try to kill her to keep her frm helping thier enemies."
Elle's eyebrows arch a little, and her attention is momentarily diverted over to Trask. "That is a hard rule to live by," she concurs with a slight tilt of her chin, looking back down at her thumbs. "It explains a lot. Like why she would go to all that trouble to heal, oh I dunno— me." It does indeed provide a satisfactory explanation, and if nothing else, a more flattering one than mere daftness on Abby's part.
Trask nods slowly, "In her eyes your as deserving as anyone else, all life is scared." He smiles softly, "I can't say I disagree with her, I am glad we were able to save you..if not we never would have met."
"There's other people who probably regret it." Elle sounds entertained, stretching one arm out on the countertop to have the movement be interrupted by a slow yawn. Catlike, she continues to regard Trask with deliberativeness in her expression. She appears touched, in her wry way.
"I'm happy it's gone this way, too. Though— don't tell anyone I said this, but I've probably had enough of being ~saved~ for a while." She's jesting, but only just. First by Bryan and Peter and company, and now this. If anyone was ever constantly a damsel in distress without remotely having the temperament of one, it's her.
Trask smiles, "You don't want me to be your hero anymore?" He smiles and plates the omlette putting it on the table and adding some little smoked sausage on the side. "Elle…what do you want?"
After remaining silent for a moment, Elle also crooks one side of her mouth into a smile. Drawing herself up, she doesn't head over in the direction of the table and the omelette. Instead it's Trask she directly moves for, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind once she reaches him and rocking back and forth, like a little child. "I didn't say that," she says quietly, cheek leaning into his back. "I just want to lead a normal life for a while."
Trask smiles leaning into her arms. "Normal is good." He smiles and lets the smell of the food just waft over the room, he has turned off the stove now, and he turns in her arms to face her, letting her cheek press on his chest he strokes her hair and looks down at her.
"I know it… is." And Elle just lets it happen, though it's a good thing Trask can't read hidden emotions in addition to negating powers: deep inside her chest, a far-less-docile feeling stirs in its resting place, turning over sullenly before crouching into dark motionlessness again. She allows herself to be thus handled, her frame delicate and small against Trask's reassuring hold. She even lids her eyes closed, blowing her breath out in a pathetic sigh and outwardly showing nothing at all except this.
What will happen? To them, to her? Time will just have to unfold its own part of the story, and somehow Elle doubts that it'll be long.
So despite being in bed, Elle and Trask are not actually naked at the start of the scene. It was mutually agreed upon OOCly, but then I came back later and realized that neither of us had, in fact, made that small but important clarification in either of our poses. Better late than never, right?
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