[While he's looking at the scarf, she moves the pie over to the center of the bed, so they can both sit turned toward each other--she's intent on his hands, and then his face, as he lets the scarf fall away from the book and looks it over.]
Yes.
[It has not occurred to her that fairy tales might be childish. She has spoken of them with Mhavos, and with Ellis, which surely means they are simply something everyone reads.]
I do not have any books, either. But I have read this one.
[At the Gallows library, and--once, part of it--many years before. Left unsaid is a comment on its quality, but that, she is hoping, Matthias will understand without further prompting. If asked, Laura is unsure she'd be able to explain the gift, even if she wished to.]
[--Again, full of appreciation. You'd think that was the only word he knows. The pages are crisp and nice and the smell of the book is good--new, something of parchment and binding and ink. These are aesthetic things that Matthias can appreciate. Deeper than that: he can appreciate that this book means something to Laura, and so it can now mean something to him as well.
He shuts it with a snap and turns his smile back at her.]
Now I can read it as well and then we'll be matched in that. Scarf's good as well.
[In case she was wondering. Matthias picks it up and loops it about his neck, loosely. As he's doing so, he orders her:]
Open up yours now!
[The larger of the two is a blanket. A nice blanket: terribly soft wool dyed in a plaidweave pattern, reds and yellows and oranges and burnt bright browns. It looks like fire. That's why Matthias bought it. The smaller package is better. Or he thinks it's better, at least. Maybe it's dumb. Unwrapped, it will fall lightly into Laura's lap: a carving of a cat, painted silver, a silver so shiny it makes the creature look cut from metal. Or lyrium. It has two green eyes, tiny stones that wink in the light when you turn it back and forth--and the tail is curled neatly around the paws--and the little hunch a cat's shoulders make, that notch between the shoulder-blades, that's there as well, barely larger than the tip of your little finger.
He leans over to look at it, when she gets it free of the package.]
Dunno why, but it made me think of you a bit. 'Cause cats have claws, I s'ppose. First obvious thought, that. But otherwise, as well, cats're otherwise like you as well. That--balance and quiet and cleverness. Did you ever play that game, when you were a kid? What animal would you be, and you say why. If I was playing for you, I'd pick cat. I like cats.
[Laura opens the blanket first, curious what the paper might hold--something soft, some kind of fabric, but what--and spends near to a minute silently inspecting it. The warmth of the wool is clear just from handling it, as is its softness, but what fascinates her is the way the colours cross over and over each other. She's seen plaideweave before, from a distance, but she has never owned any herself.
(She has never owned a blanket before, either, beyond what came with this room. If Kirkwall becomes as cold as Nevarra sometimes did, she suspects she will be all the more grateful for Matthias' gift.)
Because he put on the scarf, and she'd liked that, she drapes the blanket around her shoulders before she opens the smaller gift. It, too, receives consideration, Laura running her thumb carefully along the cat's back. It is smooth, and it shines, and the fact that its eyes are green is satisfying on a level she can't entirely explain to herself.]
I have never played that game.
[It is notable to realize he saw a cat in her--Derrica had, too, and so had some anonymous stranger. Laura will have to consider this in greater depth later. For now, she sets the cat on the little table beside her bed, so it can watch them both without getting lost in the shuffle, and she turns her attention back more fully to Matthias.
They have opened their gifts, and that means they should now taste Mhavos' pie. But the idea of saying thank you and moving on is dissatisfying, and Laura is not sure why. For a moment or two, she puzzles over it, staring at him intently, as though she's on the verge of speaking. It is because she does not think thank you accurately conveys what she feels at that moment. Because the desire to hear things stated has started to outweigh the desire not to feel uncertainty. Because it is Matthias, and he is kind, and she wants to hold his hand again.]
How do you feel about me?
[Those are the words Derrica used when she said Laura should ask. If it goes badly, she will at least know that she asked it correctly.]
[We should play, would be Matthias' next suggestion, only--
He's finished winding the scarf about himself, but he reaches compulsively to tug at one of the ends, just for something to do with at least one of his hands. And to his credit, he only drops his gaze for a moment. Gives himself some space. The edge of the blanket is there, the rest of it gathered around Laura's shoulders. The trim is fringed. Perfect for fidgeting with.]
Well--I like you.
[There. He said it. He looks up at Laura quickly, to give that statement extra credence and weight.]
I do. Like--we're friends, and all, but you're also-- [Bravely, Matthias loosens his hand from its grip on the scarf, and gives it a wave, a gesture that tries to get at what he might mean.] --brilliant. I-- fancy you, I s'ppose. A little. Or, [his ears are red, he can feel it, heat like a fever that spreads down into his face, and his neck,] a lot. If that's-- all right.
[Shit. Quickly, then, before she can say anything--] I don't want it to be weird. I mean, no matter what else, I'm, y'know, your friend, and all. And I want to keep being your friend. So it's not like it has to go anywhere, what I just said, or even--like, if I wait, it'll not be as bad. Or it will go away. A bit. Or entirely. Or--if it's better, you could just forget I said it at all.
[Laura watches and waits, and she wonders if the short silence after she asks means that he is looking for a way to say I know what you're asking, and the answer is no. Something is grating against itself inside her ribcage, broken stones grinding together in a place where things aren't supposed to be made of stone. It is the feeling that the world might be too much to tolerate, that she would be better off in this room alone, claws out. And part of it lasts, even past I like you, but for the moment, it is survivable.
She knows what all this is, friendship and fancying--she's picked this sense of the word up from listening to others speak, that is a crush--and more than that, she knows what Matthias' flushed throat means. He smells truthful, in a way she can't begin to explain and might not be more than magical thinking; she wants to believe him, and the wool and soap and sweat of him is something that already means earnest, kind, safe, gentle. It is true because it comes from him.
There is something rising inside her, threatening to burst free of the flesh holding it inside her. Her brow knits.]
I do not want to forget.
[This means, she thinks, that she can reach for his hand again.
No--it means something more than that. Laura scoots closer, lifting the edge of the blanket so it can be brought around his shoulders as well. It is too much, knowing this, but it is bearable. Even trying to respond feels like too much--but survivably so. He already said it. She is only agreeing.]
That is how I feel, too.
[Now, she thinks, and slides her fingers in between his, her gaze falling down to his hand.]
[It's a good job that Laura says something, because Matthias just would have kept talking, dribbling words on and on and on to the point of nausea. And while he can't always be shut up by someone talking, Laura is important--and she says so few words besides, so he's clumsily learning to give space to what words she does say, so he can better hear and keep them.
Doesn't mean he gets it straight from the off. Takes a moment for the words to sink in, oh, good, she doesn't want to forget--tempered with a lingering but if she does, he can make space for that as well, if she should change her mind--but then she's put her blanket over his shoulders, making a kind of tent around them, keeping them in safe and warm and together, and--
Oh. Warmth flushes through Matthias in with the red in his face. Laura's fingers, twined between his, has this answering coolness. Matthias looks down, and then up, just as quickly, and a grin is starting to spread across his face.]
Oh. [He says it aloud. Stupid.] Well, that's-- that's brilliant, then. We're the same in it. We're--
[Shit. His shoulders hunch a little, under the shared blanket; he's grinning like a moron. He grips back at her fingers.]
Good. Er. I'd hoped, I mean, not that I was-- well, I've thought about you, 'course I have, that's not what I mean. Just. Not to a creepy degree. And I'd hoped that you--felt the same. 'Course. But it's... I'm glad to hear it. [Shut up, Matthias. He laughs, at himself.] More'n glad, really. Right pleased and then some. So, great. Yeah. Happy Satinalia to us.
[Sometimes, she's struck with wonder at how easily Matthias talks. He feels things, and they come out of his mouth without a second thought. Even if he is embarrassed--maybe?--at some of them, he says what he feels and does not take any of it back. She cannot fathom doing the same, admitting when I am close to falling asleep, I think of you and the shadows in my room seem less empty. Not in words, at least. He just says it.
But at that moment, she is unsure she can endure many more stumbling attempts at...whatever Matthias is trying to convey. (Happiness, and surprise, and more happiness, all of it matching a sort of relief in her. She wants to be here next to him and also to be alone, all at once--but she wants the former more than the latter.) Words seem like an ineffectual tool for their purposes.
So she leans over and kisses him. Not like their first kiss: this is is light, soft, without a mission to determine the length it lasts. As such, it does not last nearly as long--but she likes it better. When she pulls away again, she is as serious as always, but her voice is gentle.]
[There's a little tingly feeling made by her mouth pressed against his. Certainly it shuts him up, again. And when she's sat back again, the tingle lasts, this light touch that lingers, and stays. Matthias puts the fingertips of his free hand against his mouth, in the wake of that kiss, and manages a dazed--]
Yeah.
[Yeah. They ought to. It's right there, and now that he's thinking of it, the smell of it rises again, citrus and sweet, but--]
Can I, er, kiss you again, first? Just--quick. Once more. That's all, for now. And then pie, definitely.
[The answer is yes, and she feels reasonably certain of it--but the fact that he asks gives her a moment's pause. That is new, and it is satisfactory, something that has only ever come from Matthias. She looks at him a moment longer, wanting to keep the memory of it to unravel in private later: that bubbling hope in his eyes, the way he'd touched his mouth to ensure it was still there.]
I would like that.
[Wanting to kiss her is different from wanting her to kiss him--at least to begin with. So she waits, head tilting up slightly, her gaze still tight on his.]
[Me too, he doesn't say, but his grin says it for him. Yes. Good, yes, good, and he scoots closer to Laura--though they're already quite close--and, after a second's more hesitation, he leans down to kiss her again.
It's only a little clumsy, and mostly at the start. Matthias has kissed before. He's got experience. A little too hard, and then a little too still, frozen and nervous. Once he's established that yes, he's kissing Laura, then he can settle into it, a little shift. Tries to count down in his head, two, three, four, he ought to break by now, five, all right, lean back, else he'll come off as totally creepy--
He sits back with a new flush in his cheeks. And a new grin, too, something slightly dazed and pleased, both at once.]
Brilliant. [--Quietly, half to himself, before he swallows hard.] Er, yeah, let's-- let's have some of the pie, then?
[ When they are sitting there, staring a little breathless at each other once more, Laura regrets suggesting they eat the pie. It still smells worthy of consumption, but it means they will not be able to continue to kiss. And she thinks she would like to.
Technically speaking, they might not be the most self-assured kisses she has experienced, but they are the only ones that matter. Matthias' mouth tastes familiar, not in an unpleasant way, and he doesn't press for anything past a kiss--and by the time he draws back, there's a handful of his shirt clutched between her fingers. She lets go, something soft and light hiding beneath her breastbone, and admires the smile Matthias wears. ]
...Yes. [ She turns back to pick up the box--and since they're discussing their plans for the immediate future: ] And then I will kiss you again.
[Not that Matthias had lost his grin by any means, but that straightforward statement puts it back on his face in full. And the red in his ears and his cheeks is wholly renewed, having flared up again--and the feeling in his chest is like when you hold a moth cupped in your hands, and its wings are fluttering against your fingertips--like that but much larger, like as if the moth were a hundred feet tall, and you were still trying to hold it in your hands.]
Oh, yeah? Well, good. 'Cause I'd like that. A great deal. It's-- [Even his nose feels like it might be turning red, somehow; Matthias rubs at it.] --sort of mad, to be able to just say it. Or... even come close to saying it, like--talking around it. I dunno. Like all along, if I'd have know it'd be this easy, maybe I'd not have been such a coward about it.
[As he talks, Laura busies herself with opening the pie box and slicing it into neat wedges with a claw, partially because that is what they agreed to do and partially because she's not sure she can bring herself to look directly at Matthias in that moment. His face is flushed, and her cheeks feel warm, too, and if she thinks about any of it too directly, she is unsure she will be able to remain sitting here. There is too much energy in her limbs, too much temptation to climb up to the tallest point in the Gallows and sit there and hold all of this inside of her.
It is easier to listen to him without looking, and to think Matthias would like to kiss me without feeling like it might be written too clearly in her eyes.]
You were not a coward. [How could it be his fault? Laura picks up a slice of the pie with one hand and offers it to him, still not quite lifting her head.] I made it difficult.
[It doesn't go unnoticed by Laura that they might have had this conversation much earlier, from behind a pair of masks, if not for her.]
[A bit of crust crumbles off as Laura makes one of the cuts to the pie, and Matthias reaches for it, mushes it under his thumb, and lifts it up so he can give it a moment of study. Then he sneaks another look at Laura, with a self-conscious little grin.]
I mean, fair play, you didn't make it easy. I'll accept that. But I could've gone after you as well, or tried harder to find you, or, I dunno. Asked, outright. Instead of... waiting. But I didn't know, right? And it's hard, asking. Well. You know that.
I am glad you didn't. I was not... [ She's taken a slice of the tart, nearly cradling it between the fingers of both hands, talking more to it than Matthias. When Mhavos had found her that night, he had smelled the blood--Matthias would have, too, she thinks, the blood and lyrium all mixed together. ] You are the first person I have wanted to kiss.
[ And if he'd asked, rather than waiting until she had courage enough to do it, she's not sure she would have been able to answer. ]
[His grin comes first this time--and then the flush in his cheeks second, right on time--but Matthias can nearly bear it, this time. This time, he has that little bit of knowledge. There's something great about being the first person someone wanted to kiss. Like it means something. Well, of course it does, that's stupid, but. Like it means-means it.]
Well, that's-- That's great. I didn't know that. I mean, like I said, I thought, y'know, maybe you liked me, but that's not precisely the same as-- Like, wanting to kiss someone, that's more, isn't it. At least I think it is. [SHUT UP MATTHIAS; his grin tints self-conscious, and he grabs for a piece of the tart and scoops it up, so he can jam it in his mouth and shut himself up.
Around the mouthful--] Sorry. Hey, this is good. Your friend has good taste.
[She hadn't expected that saying as much would distract Matthias so thoroughly--but she won't complain about the fact that it does. (In truth, she'd expected questions. What does that mean, have you kissed people you didn't want to kiss, things like that. Only now, when he seems blessedly unperturbed about the idea that she's never wanted to kiss people before, does she realize he doesn't see the things she sees in herself.) The fact that he smiles at her like somebody handed him a sack of gold coins makes it easy to accept, his assumption that this is a compliment and not a fact.
And it is, she realizes, a compliment. No one else has been worthwhile--only Matthias. While she doesn't quite smile back, in that moment, she does look at him with an affection that (by her standards) isn't hidden at all.]
He does. [Emboldened by that, and by the desire to get across all of Mhavos' finer qualities, she adds:] If you ever have questions, he can answer them.
Dunno if he'd want you promising that. I have loads of questions. I always do. Like...
[He squints down at the half piece of tart still in his hand. Then he grins, somewhat sheepishly, and sneaks a look up at Laura.]
Like right now I want to ask you what he's an expert on, right. And that would lead to more questions, and more questions, and all, but then I would keep talking and I wouldn't finish this piece of tart, which is really good--but more to the point is then I'd get distracted and not get the chance to kiss you again. And that's what I really want. So. I have to be careful, right?
[There's a little pink in his cheeks again, a renewed blush that comes from admitting this. Very bold. Very true. He takes another bite to shut himself up again.]
I have a lot of questions, too. And he still answers them.
[Perhaps, comparatively, it doesn't sound like many to Matthias, but it feels like she could keep asking Mhavos questions for days without running out. That Mhavos continues to answer them with absolute patience and care speaks volumes to his worth.
She is prepared to offer examples of the things Mhavos is an expert on, since Matthias has (sort of) inquired, but then he continues to talk. Sometimes, that means there is no room to reply to him; in this case, it means she does not want to answer the question anymore. It will lead to other questions, and more conversation, and while she is happy to listen to Matthias--]
I would rather kiss you, too.
[Her piece of the tart is half-eaten, sticky in her mouth and crumbly against her fingers, and she is tempted to set it back in its box and come back to it later. Instead, she takes another bite, chewing and swallowing deliberately, and adds:]
We will have to be silent.
[It's said quite seriously, but it's meant...well, sort of like a joke. She's working on jokes.]
[--Try to be silent, that is. Matthias is fairly sure that she's messing about. He understands dry humor. He shoves the rest of his tart into his mouth, gives it a quick chew-up, and casts a look down at his fingers. Crumby, a bit sticky. But so will hers be, so he holds his hand out to hers--]
I won't start talking in the middle, at least. I can promise you that one. So...
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Yes.
[It has not occurred to her that fairy tales might be childish. She has spoken of them with Mhavos, and with Ellis, which surely means they are simply something everyone reads.]
I do not have any books, either. But I have read this one.
[At the Gallows library, and--once, part of it--many years before. Left unsaid is a comment on its quality, but that, she is hoping, Matthias will understand without further prompting. If asked, Laura is unsure she'd be able to explain the gift, even if she wished to.]
no subject
[--Again, full of appreciation. You'd think that was the only word he knows. The pages are crisp and nice and the smell of the book is good--new, something of parchment and binding and ink. These are aesthetic things that Matthias can appreciate. Deeper than that: he can appreciate that this book means something to Laura, and so it can now mean something to him as well.
He shuts it with a snap and turns his smile back at her.]
Now I can read it as well and then we'll be matched in that. Scarf's good as well.
[In case she was wondering. Matthias picks it up and loops it about his neck, loosely. As he's doing so, he orders her:]
Open up yours now!
[The larger of the two is a blanket. A nice blanket: terribly soft wool dyed in a plaidweave pattern, reds and yellows and oranges and burnt bright browns. It looks like fire. That's why Matthias bought it. The smaller package is better. Or he thinks it's better, at least. Maybe it's dumb. Unwrapped, it will fall lightly into Laura's lap: a carving of a cat, painted silver, a silver so shiny it makes the creature look cut from metal. Or lyrium. It has two green eyes, tiny stones that wink in the light when you turn it back and forth--and the tail is curled neatly around the paws--and the little hunch a cat's shoulders make, that notch between the shoulder-blades, that's there as well, barely larger than the tip of your little finger.
He leans over to look at it, when she gets it free of the package.]
Dunno why, but it made me think of you a bit. 'Cause cats have claws, I s'ppose. First obvious thought, that. But otherwise, as well, cats're otherwise like you as well. That--balance and quiet and cleverness. Did you ever play that game, when you were a kid? What animal would you be, and you say why. If I was playing for you, I'd pick cat. I like cats.
no subject
(She has never owned a blanket before, either, beyond what came with this room. If Kirkwall becomes as cold as Nevarra sometimes did, she suspects she will be all the more grateful for Matthias' gift.)
Because he put on the scarf, and she'd liked that, she drapes the blanket around her shoulders before she opens the smaller gift. It, too, receives consideration, Laura running her thumb carefully along the cat's back. It is smooth, and it shines, and the fact that its eyes are green is satisfying on a level she can't entirely explain to herself.]
I have never played that game.
[It is notable to realize he saw a cat in her--Derrica had, too, and so had some anonymous stranger. Laura will have to consider this in greater depth later. For now, she sets the cat on the little table beside her bed, so it can watch them both without getting lost in the shuffle, and she turns her attention back more fully to Matthias.
They have opened their gifts, and that means they should now taste Mhavos' pie. But the idea of saying thank you and moving on is dissatisfying, and Laura is not sure why. For a moment or two, she puzzles over it, staring at him intently, as though she's on the verge of speaking. It is because she does not think thank you accurately conveys what she feels at that moment. Because the desire to hear things stated has started to outweigh the desire not to feel uncertainty. Because it is Matthias, and he is kind, and she wants to hold his hand again.]
How do you feel about me?
[Those are the words Derrica used when she said Laura should ask. If it goes badly, she will at least know that she asked it correctly.]
no subject
He's finished winding the scarf about himself, but he reaches compulsively to tug at one of the ends, just for something to do with at least one of his hands. And to his credit, he only drops his gaze for a moment. Gives himself some space. The edge of the blanket is there, the rest of it gathered around Laura's shoulders. The trim is fringed. Perfect for fidgeting with.]
Well--I like you.
[There. He said it. He looks up at Laura quickly, to give that statement extra credence and weight.]
I do. Like--we're friends, and all, but you're also-- [Bravely, Matthias loosens his hand from its grip on the scarf, and gives it a wave, a gesture that tries to get at what he might mean.] --brilliant. I-- fancy you, I s'ppose. A little. Or, [his ears are red, he can feel it, heat like a fever that spreads down into his face, and his neck,] a lot. If that's-- all right.
[Shit. Quickly, then, before she can say anything--] I don't want it to be weird. I mean, no matter what else, I'm, y'know, your friend, and all. And I want to keep being your friend. So it's not like it has to go anywhere, what I just said, or even--like, if I wait, it'll not be as bad. Or it will go away. A bit. Or entirely. Or--if it's better, you could just forget I said it at all.
no subject
She knows what all this is, friendship and fancying--she's picked this sense of the word up from listening to others speak, that is a crush--and more than that, she knows what Matthias' flushed throat means. He smells truthful, in a way she can't begin to explain and might not be more than magical thinking; she wants to believe him, and the wool and soap and sweat of him is something that already means earnest, kind, safe, gentle. It is true because it comes from him.
There is something rising inside her, threatening to burst free of the flesh holding it inside her. Her brow knits.]
I do not want to forget.
[This means, she thinks, that she can reach for his hand again.
No--it means something more than that. Laura scoots closer, lifting the edge of the blanket so it can be brought around his shoulders as well. It is too much, knowing this, but it is bearable. Even trying to respond feels like too much--but survivably so. He already said it. She is only agreeing.]
That is how I feel, too.
[Now, she thinks, and slides her fingers in between his, her gaze falling down to his hand.]
no subject
Doesn't mean he gets it straight from the off. Takes a moment for the words to sink in, oh, good, she doesn't want to forget--tempered with a lingering but if she does, he can make space for that as well, if she should change her mind--but then she's put her blanket over his shoulders, making a kind of tent around them, keeping them in safe and warm and together, and--
Oh. Warmth flushes through Matthias in with the red in his face. Laura's fingers, twined between his, has this answering coolness. Matthias looks down, and then up, just as quickly, and a grin is starting to spread across his face.]
Oh. [He says it aloud. Stupid.] Well, that's-- that's brilliant, then. We're the same in it. We're--
[Shit. His shoulders hunch a little, under the shared blanket; he's grinning like a moron. He grips back at her fingers.]
Good. Er. I'd hoped, I mean, not that I was-- well, I've thought about you, 'course I have, that's not what I mean. Just. Not to a creepy degree. And I'd hoped that you--felt the same. 'Course. But it's... I'm glad to hear it. [Shut up, Matthias. He laughs, at himself.] More'n glad, really. Right pleased and then some. So, great. Yeah. Happy Satinalia to us.
no subject
But at that moment, she is unsure she can endure many more stumbling attempts at...whatever Matthias is trying to convey. (Happiness, and surprise, and more happiness, all of it matching a sort of relief in her. She wants to be here next to him and also to be alone, all at once--but she wants the former more than the latter.) Words seem like an ineffectual tool for their purposes.
So she leans over and kisses him. Not like their first kiss: this is is light, soft, without a mission to determine the length it lasts. As such, it does not last nearly as long--but she likes it better. When she pulls away again, she is as serious as always, but her voice is gentle.]
We should taste the pie.
no subject
Yeah.
[Yeah. They ought to. It's right there, and now that he's thinking of it, the smell of it rises again, citrus and sweet, but--]
Can I, er, kiss you again, first? Just--quick. Once more. That's all, for now. And then pie, definitely.
no subject
I would like that.
[Wanting to kiss her is different from wanting her to kiss him--at least to begin with. So she waits, head tilting up slightly, her gaze still tight on his.]
no subject
It's only a little clumsy, and mostly at the start. Matthias has kissed before. He's got experience. A little too hard, and then a little too still, frozen and nervous. Once he's established that yes, he's kissing Laura, then he can settle into it, a little shift. Tries to count down in his head, two, three, four, he ought to break by now, five, all right, lean back, else he'll come off as totally creepy--
He sits back with a new flush in his cheeks. And a new grin, too, something slightly dazed and pleased, both at once.]
Brilliant. [--Quietly, half to himself, before he swallows hard.] Er, yeah, let's-- let's have some of the pie, then?
no subject
Technically speaking, they might not be the most self-assured kisses she has experienced, but they are the only ones that matter. Matthias' mouth tastes familiar, not in an unpleasant way, and he doesn't press for anything past a kiss--and by the time he draws back, there's a handful of his shirt clutched between her fingers. She lets go, something soft and light hiding beneath her breastbone, and admires the smile Matthias wears. ]
...Yes. [ She turns back to pick up the box--and since they're discussing their plans for the immediate future: ] And then I will kiss you again.
no subject
Oh, yeah? Well, good. 'Cause I'd like that. A great deal. It's-- [Even his nose feels like it might be turning red, somehow; Matthias rubs at it.] --sort of mad, to be able to just say it. Or... even come close to saying it, like--talking around it. I dunno. Like all along, if I'd have know it'd be this easy, maybe I'd not have been such a coward about it.
no subject
It is easier to listen to him without looking, and to think Matthias would like to kiss me without feeling like it might be written too clearly in her eyes.]
You were not a coward. [How could it be his fault? Laura picks up a slice of the pie with one hand and offers it to him, still not quite lifting her head.] I made it difficult.
[It doesn't go unnoticed by Laura that they might have had this conversation much earlier, from behind a pair of masks, if not for her.]
no subject
[A bit of crust crumbles off as Laura makes one of the cuts to the pie, and Matthias reaches for it, mushes it under his thumb, and lifts it up so he can give it a moment of study. Then he sneaks another look at Laura, with a self-conscious little grin.]
I mean, fair play, you didn't make it easy. I'll accept that. But I could've gone after you as well, or tried harder to find you, or, I dunno. Asked, outright. Instead of... waiting. But I didn't know, right? And it's hard, asking. Well. You know that.
no subject
[ And if he'd asked, rather than waiting until she had courage enough to do it, she's not sure she would have been able to answer. ]
no subject
[His grin comes first this time--and then the flush in his cheeks second, right on time--but Matthias can nearly bear it, this time. This time, he has that little bit of knowledge. There's something great about being the first person someone wanted to kiss. Like it means something. Well, of course it does, that's stupid, but. Like it means-means it.]
Well, that's-- That's great. I didn't know that. I mean, like I said, I thought, y'know, maybe you liked me, but that's not precisely the same as-- Like, wanting to kiss someone, that's more, isn't it. At least I think it is. [SHUT UP MATTHIAS; his grin tints self-conscious, and he grabs for a piece of the tart and scoops it up, so he can jam it in his mouth and shut himself up.
Around the mouthful--] Sorry. Hey, this is good. Your friend has good taste.
no subject
[She hadn't expected that saying as much would distract Matthias so thoroughly--but she won't complain about the fact that it does. (In truth, she'd expected questions. What does that mean, have you kissed people you didn't want to kiss, things like that. Only now, when he seems blessedly unperturbed about the idea that she's never wanted to kiss people before, does she realize he doesn't see the things she sees in herself.) The fact that he smiles at her like somebody handed him a sack of gold coins makes it easy to accept, his assumption that this is a compliment and not a fact.
And it is, she realizes, a compliment. No one else has been worthwhile--only Matthias. While she doesn't quite smile back, in that moment, she does look at him with an affection that (by her standards) isn't hidden at all.]
He does. [Emboldened by that, and by the desire to get across all of Mhavos' finer qualities, she adds:] If you ever have questions, he can answer them.
no subject
Dunno if he'd want you promising that. I have loads of questions. I always do. Like...
[He squints down at the half piece of tart still in his hand. Then he grins, somewhat sheepishly, and sneaks a look up at Laura.]
Like right now I want to ask you what he's an expert on, right. And that would lead to more questions, and more questions, and all, but then I would keep talking and I wouldn't finish this piece of tart, which is really good--but more to the point is then I'd get distracted and not get the chance to kiss you again. And that's what I really want. So. I have to be careful, right?
[There's a little pink in his cheeks again, a renewed blush that comes from admitting this. Very bold. Very true. He takes another bite to shut himself up again.]
no subject
[Perhaps, comparatively, it doesn't sound like many to Matthias, but it feels like she could keep asking Mhavos questions for days without running out. That Mhavos continues to answer them with absolute patience and care speaks volumes to his worth.
She is prepared to offer examples of the things Mhavos is an expert on, since Matthias has (sort of) inquired, but then he continues to talk. Sometimes, that means there is no room to reply to him; in this case, it means she does not want to answer the question anymore. It will lead to other questions, and more conversation, and while she is happy to listen to Matthias--]
I would rather kiss you, too.
[Her piece of the tart is half-eaten, sticky in her mouth and crumbly against her fingers, and she is tempted to set it back in its box and come back to it later. Instead, she takes another bite, chewing and swallowing deliberately, and adds:]
We will have to be silent.
[It's said quite seriously, but it's meant...well, sort of like a joke. She's working on jokes.]
no subject
[--Try to be silent, that is. Matthias is fairly sure that she's messing about. He understands dry humor. He shoves the rest of his tart into his mouth, gives it a quick chew-up, and casts a look down at his fingers. Crumby, a bit sticky. But so will hers be, so he holds his hand out to hers--]
I won't start talking in the middle, at least. I can promise you that one. So...