[Ooooh that feels even nicer, excuse him while he closes his eyes for a second to fully enjoy that before she kisses him and finally releases him from those talented fingers of hers.
While she has a seat he starts to unpack all the groceries he brought for the meal.]
It was all right, met up with Thomas to talk some business and then called my Mum. How was yours?
[Karen is clearly charmed by his obvious enjoyment of the moment, smiling to herself as she gets comfortable on her seat. It feels weird to just be sitting while someone else bustles around. She's so used to being up and active.]
Sounds like a pretty good day. It's sweet that you talk to your mum. And, uh, weirdly quiet? I would've be on the verge of stir crazy if I didn't know you were coming over.
[Alfred chuckles and starts to move around her kitchen as if he's used it many times, pulling out a cutting board and starting to chop up the potatoes and onions.]
I think I've been accused of the same thing so we have that in common.
[They seem to have a lot in common, maybe that's why it's so easy for them to be around one another.]
[Her mouth lilts in a fond little smile as she watches the ease with which he moves around in her kitchen. Comfort and confidence are absolutely attractive qualities.
She can't help but laugh a little at his comment. They do certainly have a lot in common. It's sort of - bittersweet, because she never wants anyone else to have gone through hard times. But there is a comfortable recognition in being around someone else that gets it.]
That doesn't surprise me. It does mean it means a lot that you make time for me, though.
[He says, glancing up to tip her a little wink as he twirls the knife across his fingers gracefully before going back to chopping. It's a slick move, one that shows off that he's more than comfortable with a blade.]
[One of her brows arches, and she watches with a smile as he lets the knife twirl over his fingers.] Wow, are you trying to show off for me? It's working. I'd be prepared to call that hot.
[She shrugs as if to say what can you do? And also to show off that she's got better range of motion than she did early in the week.]
Better. Ibuprofen and a heat pack have been my best friends this week.
A smidge. [She repeats the word, a hint of warm amusement in her voice.
When he references her levels of loopy, she lets out a groan, her cheeks pinkening as she leans forward to momentarily cover her face with her hands.]
Look, I still stand by the fry/shake combo. [She shifts her hands, leaning to the side so she can prop her chin up on one hand.] But I have absolutely no recollection of what we talked about. Everything's just kind of...hazy.
[There's a beat, her brow furrowing a bit as she watches him. It's undeniable that the flush in her cheeks is deepening.]
Oh my God. It's coming back to me. Actually, no, you know what? I wouldn't use the word kink but I do stand by all that. I think maybe it was less loopy and more...loose tongue?
[There's a thoughtful moment of silence before she continues.] I'm glad I total you about my, uh, unusual friends and acquaintances. I've been meaning to. It's just hard to find the right way to bring it up.
You're trying to make me turn redder. [She's aiming for accusatory, but there's banked mirth in her voice that bubbles over into a laugh. As if it wasn't already abundantly clear that she enjoys his cheekiness.
She meets his eyes when he takes a quick glance in her direction, a smile lingering on her lips. There's a hint of surprise in her gaze as she listens to him talk, and there's no disappointment in it. Just a genuine understand.]
You're really one of a kind, you know that? [There's some fondness in her voice when she answers him, shaking her head a little. She lets her chin perch on her hand again, quiet and thoughtful for a moment.] I appreciate that you get it. And I do trust you. Feels worth saying.
[He seems a little surprised at that and offers a little shrug in response, a lifetime of being told he was nothing more than east london trash makes it hard for him to accept such praise so he tries to skip past it. Coming over to kiss her forehead softly.]
[Karen hums a note of agreement, her eyes following him as he moves around the island. She turns towards him as he approaches, her head tipping up to welcome the kiss on her forehead.
The corner of her mouth twitches in a little smile when he returns the sentiment, and she catches one of his belt loops with her index finger for a moment to keep him there. She's just an inch or two shorter than her usual 5'10 perched on the high top seat.]
I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it. You show up on purpose. Your actions back up your words. And I can tell you're proud that your word means something, and you should be.
[The way she snags his belt loops makes him smile, he likes a woman who isn't afraid to reach out and take what she wants and he kisses his way down from her forehead to her cheeks and then lips. Kissing her slowly and with purpose.]
[Karen's chuckling a little at the way he's kissing his way down her face, charmed by the deliberate way he's going about it. She leans into the kiss, letting her lips part so she can deepen it, relishing the moment. Her finger slips free from his belt loop so she can rest her hands on his waist, sliding them around to run warmly along his back.]
[There's a pink tint in her cheeks when he breaks the kiss, but she's smiling a bit as she feels his forehead lean in against hers. She tips her head a bit to nudge the side of her nose against his, dropping a last kiss onto his mouth before she leans back in her chair.]
We should absolutely put a bookmark in that for after dinner, though.
[Karen's smiling to herself as she watches the way he seems to reluctantly move away, her eyes lingering on his back as he returns to the stove.
Her head tips a bit as she considers his question, and more importantly, the word choice inherent in it.] Uh, if we apply a fairly loose definition to 'hang out with,' I'd say two. If you want to know how many I've either worked with or know how to get in touch with if shit hits the fan...
[She trails off for a moment, running through a mental list.] That number would be five. Or six, actually, because there's a nurse I know that provides medical assistance for vigilantes and powered individuals. She does incredible work. And um, there's one that is...presently incarcerated in The Raft that I know but would not consider reaching out to. [A beat.] My life is pretty weird.
[The tone seems to say 'yeah, I can hardly believe it either.'
She can't help but laugh a little at his question, though she does consider her answer.]
Uh, well, I know Frank Castle. The Punisher. I'm pretty sure that moniker is more a matter of convenience for him than anything else. The Iron Fist is the only one I know of that really loves the name. I think that one's technically a hereditary title? [One shoulder lifts in a shrug.] For the most part, everyone else just uses their names.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
XD
While she has a seat he starts to unpack all the groceries he brought for the meal.]
It was all right, met up with Thomas to talk some business and then called my Mum. How was yours?
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Sounds like a pretty good day. It's sweet that you talk to your mum. And, uh, weirdly quiet? I would've be on the verge of stir crazy if I didn't know you were coming over.
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[She's nothing if not self aware. Her voice is all dry, self-deprecating humor.]
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I think I've been accused of the same thing so we have that in common.
[They seem to have a lot in common, maybe that's why it's so easy for them to be around one another.]
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She can't help but laugh a little at his comment. They do certainly have a lot in common. It's sort of - bittersweet, because she never wants anyone else to have gone through hard times. But there is a comfortable recognition in being around someone else that gets it.]
That doesn't surprise me. It does mean it means a lot that you make time for me, though.
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[He says, glancing up to tip her a little wink as he twirls the knife across his fingers gracefully before going back to chopping. It's a slick move, one that shows off that he's more than comfortable with a blade.]
How's the shoulder?
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[She shrugs as if to say what can you do? And also to show off that she's got better range of motion than she did early in the week.]
Better. Ibuprofen and a heat pack have been my best friends this week.
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[He admits because of course he is, he likes the feeling of having her eyes on him. Plus it's making her smile which is always nice.]
Sounds like a good combo and you seem to be less stiff and less loopy than when I saw you last. Not that you were that loopy.
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When he references her levels of loopy, she lets out a groan, her cheeks pinkening as she leans forward to momentarily cover her face with her hands.]
Look, I still stand by the fry/shake combo. [She shifts her hands, leaning to the side so she can prop her chin up on one hand.] But I have absolutely no recollection of what we talked about. Everything's just kind of...hazy.
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You don't remember confessing your word play kink? Or that you wanted to 'jump my bones'?
[He teases as he starts to layer the pie.]
Or that you hang out with vigilante heroes?
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Oh my God. It's coming back to me. Actually, no, you know what? I wouldn't use the word kink but I do stand by all that. I think maybe it was less loopy and more...loose tongue?
[There's a thoughtful moment of silence before she continues.] I'm glad I total you about my, uh, unusual friends and acquaintances. I've been meaning to. It's just hard to find the right way to bring it up.
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[He says suggestively but then turns serious, glancing at her when she pauses.]
That and you had to be sure you could trust me, I get it. People like that need to keep certain things secret and need discretion.
[He understands better than most seeing how he wasn't just a regular soldier, he was SAS.]
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She meets his eyes when he takes a quick glance in her direction, a smile lingering on her lips. There's a hint of surprise in her gaze as she listens to him talk, and there's no disappointment in it. Just a genuine understand.]
You're really one of a kind, you know that? [There's some fondness in her voice when she answers him, shaking her head a little. She lets her chin perch on her hand again, quiet and thoughtful for a moment.] I appreciate that you get it. And I do trust you. Feels worth saying.
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[He seems a little surprised at that and offers a little shrug in response, a lifetime of being told he was nothing more than east london trash makes it hard for him to accept such praise so he tries to skip past it. Coming over to kiss her forehead softly.]
I trust you too, Karen.
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The corner of her mouth twitches in a little smile when he returns the sentiment, and she catches one of his belt loops with her index finger for a moment to keep him there. She's just an inch or two shorter than her usual 5'10 perched on the high top seat.]
I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it. You show up on purpose. Your actions back up your words. And I can tell you're proud that your word means something, and you should be.
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We better stop there or else we won't eat.
[He teases softly.]
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We should absolutely put a bookmark in that for after dinner, though.
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So while you were suffering from 'loose tongue' syndrome, you make it seem you knew more than one vigilante.
[He says as he works.]
Am I allowed to know how many you hang around with?
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Her head tips a bit as she considers his question, and more importantly, the word choice inherent in it.] Uh, if we apply a fairly loose definition to 'hang out with,' I'd say two. If you want to know how many I've either worked with or know how to get in touch with if shit hits the fan...
[She trails off for a moment, running through a mental list.] That number would be five. Or six, actually, because there's a nurse I know that provides medical assistance for vigilantes and powered individuals. She does incredible work. And um, there's one that is...presently incarcerated in The Raft that I know but would not consider reaching out to. [A beat.] My life is pretty weird.
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Bloody hell.
[He muses.]
Do they all have funny names like Devil man or whatever it was?
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[The tone seems to say 'yeah, I can hardly believe it either.'
She can't help but laugh a little at his question, though she does consider her answer.]
Uh, well, I know Frank Castle. The Punisher. I'm pretty sure that moniker is more a matter of convenience for him than anything else. The Iron Fist is the only one I know of that really loves the name. I think that one's technically a hereditary title? [One shoulder lifts in a shrug.] For the most part, everyone else just uses their names.
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[Alfred comments wryly as he slides the shepherds pie into the oven and then goes to wash his hands.]
Kind of weird they're all in one city but I guess the more the merrier hrm?
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