notintehkitchen

[Sniper felt himself burn again as he tried to find an answer for her. He could put together what he found attractive physically easily enough, but thinking of what drew him to her in other ways required him admitting certain things.

What he was doing already breached his personal code. He could feel himself attached to her more than he knew he ought to be: he idly wondered what she was doing at times, looked for her each night before they climbed into bed, had an inkling that felt suspiciously like concern when he thought of her being hurt. It had gotten to the point where he not only didn't mind the fact that they slept together in in a shared bed, but actually looked forward to it at times.

That was a point where shame hit him. He was the one who perverted it, wanting there to be something other than the innocent act between them. It wasn't just that though. His thoughts didn't stop at intimacy. He wanted more than that, even if he couldn't fully grasp what more it was he wanted from her. Not yet.

He answered finally as he gave her hand a squeeze, knowing he had to say something, even if the truth wasn't clear.]

I don't rightly know, exactly. But—

[He sighed, eyes still closed.]

But I wouldn't change you to be more like those girls. I, um. Rather prefer you stay how you are now.

I never thought burn scars could be cute.

[That was the only way she could take his response. It must of been an implication to the way her physical appearance had been heavily destroyed. As she thought on the scars, she recalled the ones Sniper carried on his back from his several backstabs from the BLU Spy.

It hit her.]

Everyone likes different things. Really different things. I always thought there was only one standard of feminine beauty, and that was my mother.

Right. I'm not exactly the ideal Aussie to some, either.

[Thankful she seemed to understand— he didn't want to have to clarify what he thought any more than he already had, as he wasn't sure of the entire picture himself— Sniper gave her hand another squeeze and a light tug in his direction, hoping she'd lie down beside him.]

No one thinks Saxton Hale is attractive outside of Australia if that is what you're getting at.

[Pyro got the message and proceeded to lay down on her side of the bed. Realizing the sudden chill in the air, she looked down and remembered just how unclothed she had become after that incident.

Attempting to remain calm, Pyro shoved her free arm around her chest and looked up at the ceiling.]

There's a difference between being manly and being horrifying.

That's... reassuring, actually.

[He could feel himself caving to exhaustion: the amount of walking he'd done with his injured frame, combined with the events of the last couple of hours, had left him completely worn; it was difficult to open his eyes and keep them that way for long.

He glanced at her beside him before closing them again. It was evident she was cold- he was as well, his shirt having been abandoned on the floor. He slipped his arm around her, pulling her to him, her bare skin against his warming him instantly.

He couldn't have her, shouldn't have her... but with what little control he still had, he was determined to satisfy that itch in some way. Just having her beside him would have to be enough.

And as strange at it seemed to him, he found it was. It was a physical desire, he told himself. Nothing more. Perhaps he didn't want her as badly as he'd thought in the heat of the moment- that, or she satisfied something else in him just by being there. She calmed his nerves, her frame familiar, even if unclothed this time. It wasn't a major change in their routine, but it was enough to make him flush again.

He pulled her to him tighter, drowsiness in his voice.]

I'm just glad you don't have a moustache.

You needn't worry how you look. You're fine just the way you are. I couldn't mistake you for anything but Australian. I promise.

[As she got pulled closer, she found herself inwardly becoming very giddy at the affection he was showing her so openly. Completely forgetting about hiding her bra, Pyro placed a hand on top of his head and began to stroke his hair gently with her fingertips.]

I was wrong when I say Sniper is cute.

[Though she still believed it, she decided to rephrase her previous decision of his looks to something more masculine.]

Sniper is very handsome. There's nothing you should feel envious of in this world. You have an accent most girls would melt hearing and you can be very kind when you open yourself up. I'm sure plenty of women like you.

Japanese people don't have much body or facial hair, that goes double for the women. I must admit, I am very confused by what your country finds attractive in a women. A moustache only belongs on men.

[So content with that moment— the feeling of her against him, her hand in his hair— Sniper didn't protest as she called him that word; instead, he smiled as her fingertips brushed through his hair, the act having grown on him in the nights they'd shared together to the point where he leaned into her hand, aching for more attention from her.

Not that she didn't give him more than he'd gotten from anyone in his life, save for maybe his parents. He was fine being left alone most of the time, but when it came to her, it seemed he couldn't get enough. What it was about her that appealed to his personal greed, he couldn't decide; however, he knew it was there, always wanting more and more of her and from her.]

I've never been much for dealing with people, to be honest. That sort of behavior gets in the way of the job. S'just easier to be alone sometimes.

[He said one thing, but his body betrayed him; he pulled her to him, closing the small gap between them as he buried his face into her shoulder.]

[Reaching for the covers, Pyro pulled them over the two despite already having a pair of rosy red cheeks. All this unexpected cuddling was something she should of been doing, not Sniper. She wouldn't complain though, the idea that Sniper was coming out of his shell and expressing himself more openly was a good one.

Squirming slightly as his face came into contact with her bare shoulder, she laughed]

Aah, that tickles! You're too scruffy!

[Even if she complained, she loved it. She had always adored men with facial hair. Not the Saxton hale type, but the way Sniper had his was nice.]

It comes with the nature of your job, I suppose. You're holed up most of the time unlike the rest of us.

[Even as she squirmed, he didn't let her go, unable to give up that contentment he'd found in having her near. Her words only made him want to keep a hold of her even more, a fear that she'd disappear if he released her rising in him. It was that beast that always came coupled with attachment; it was the primary reason he kept himself from it.

Well, usually kept himself from it. It was harder to control in Paradise where he no longer had the job as a viable leash, where he'd already lost so much that it pushed him to clinging desperately to what he still had. He had to adapt, but he was a stubborn thing, only changing if absolutely necessary. He liked who he was, and was well-set in his ways.

And yet, as he laid there with his arm around her, the scent of her skin captivating his senses, the feeling of that closeness relaxing him, he couldn't help but think of how things could be better.]

Right. Like you bein' in your suit.

Edited 2012-02-06 19:37 (UTC)

[She wasn't going anywhere if being here for a year told her anything from watching fellow REDs and BLUs depart. In her mind, she was destined to be stuck here forever scolding and teasing anyone from her world who arrived. For the man beside her to be so worried over her possibility of disappearing didn't seem to be a worry in her mind.]

If I didn't wear the suit I'd be nothing but a skeleton with little burnt flesh pieces clinging to me.

[Her next words came out sounding guilty, as if she wasn't faithful enough to her beloved flames.]

I like fire, but I don't want to look that scary. Is that bad?

Edited 2012-02-06 20:00 (UTC)

[He shook his head, scruff rubbing against her.]

It's not. It's just somethin' ya can't help sometimes when you're in the suit, but I s'ppose it's like you said. It's a part of the job.

[He swallowed, a knot in his throat as he thought of what bothered him. It was something he never wanted to leave that room, or even that moment, but he felt compelled to ask. The question was one he'd asked before, but in a very different context: whereas it had been laced with anger then, it now held uncertainty.]

What happens when we leave this place? If we leave this place, rather.

Edited 2012-02-06 20:16 (UTC)

[Despite all her experience in this place there was no way she could give him a precise answer. The thought of losing Sniper like she had so many others she had grown to care about stung her heart.]

I don't know what happens. I suppose the only way to find out is when it does.

[RED didn't respond, unable to piece together exactly what it was he thought about that. The mere thought of her disappearing wounded him, made him want to fight against whatever forces were responsible for taking her.

The idea that they'd return home and not remember all that had transpired in Paradise was somehow unappealing, despite that being what he considered the best scenario until that point. Things were different now, and he couldn't accept why.

His arm tightened around her.]

I don't think I want to know.

[She could recall how angry he had been when he first arrived here. The feelings he must of developed about Paradise had changed dramatically it seems.

Laughing, she hugged him back when he embraced her tighter.]

Ignorance is bliss?

Yeah. I suppose so, sometimes.

[His breathing deepened, muscles relaxing as he drifted toward the point of unconsciousness. Despite his body giving in to sleep, his mind was still at work. He was a little less intelligible when he spoke a few moments later.]

I'd rather... you just stayed.

[Stay? Did he mean stay in bed? Well, she wasn't going anywhere but she still had to question him.]

Stayed?

[His breaths were heavier, voice low as he mumbled something completely incoherent, exhaustion stripping him of his ability to convey exactly what he meant.

That didn't mean he didn't try as he pulled her to him again, eyes shut as he rested his head on her. He wanted her to stay with him in every sense: there in that moment, in Paradise, if they returned to Sawmill, and in some deeper sense he couldn't fully comprehend. Saying that much through a simple embrace, however, wasn't likely to be a successful endeavor.]

Edited 2012-02-07 19:06 (UTC)

[Pyro decided the best thing she could do was be silent and go to sleep. Sniper looked like he needed rest after everything she had put him through that night.

Wrapped up in his warm embrace, it became easy for her to drift off into her own dreams. There was something safe and secure about those arms she had long forgotten from others in her past.]

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