Any Shelter [Closed] - Printable Version
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RE: Any Shelter [Closed] - SolitareLee - 11-29-2019
"Well," she said, reconsidering immediately. "No one important. Me, my mom, her boyfriend, the lady... No one innocent; I just don't want anyone I care about to get hurt because I fucked up." If he needed to break some noses to get the job done, so be it, as far as she was concerned. It wasn't like she hadn't already. "I understand it might be hard, but..." She was definitely hyperventilating. She clutched at his handkerchief as if it was a stress ball, worrying it endlessly in her hands. His voice changed just a bit, without her even noticing, and without thinking she did, in fact, take a deep breath, closing her eyes as she exhaled. He was right, she wouldn't do anyone any good panicking. Count... count backwards from ten. She tried to keep her breathing deep while she did so. Dix, neuf, huit...
She could smell it, as she breathed in. She was in a good, safe place. She was calm. She was safe. No one could hurt her here.
Slowly, her breathing evened out, her grip on the handkerchief became less frantic. She opened her eyes, feeling much less out of control. It was fine. Against all odds, Jean was helping her. She'd never understand the differences between who he was now and who he'd been four, almost five years ago now. But clearly she'd severely misjudged him. Hadn't he been nothing but kind to her since she wandered into his shop again? And now he was saving her from werewolves and letting her stay in his house. His house!
She nodded, pausing to dab under her eyes with the handkerchief, embarrassed by her overflow of emotions a moment earlier. "Yeah, she's with Eric. They'll be fine. He lives in Brighton. I don't think he's realized it, but he does handiwork and plumbing for almost all of the fae in this city." Fae could be capricious, but they still needed someone to fix everything more complicated than a door. They couldn't just not have plumbing in all of their establishments, not if they wanted humans to come. "She'll be fine if she's with him."
She nodded again, seriously. "I'll do whatever," she promised. She meant it. She'd organize books, she'd dust, she'd scrub toilets, she'd even try to make heads or tails of his hellish organization system if she needed to. "And if you can take care of the werewolves, make them leave me alone, I'll..." she was drawing a blank. "Think of... something..." she muttered. She would. When she had a bit of time to think. For right now, she was more than happy to let him take control of the situation.
"I'm a size nine," she said, aware that it was a hard size to shop for, too large for many women's shoes and too small for most men's. "If... if we go by my house, I can get some of my clothes and... my tablet I guess, and my wallet..." She didn't think he had wi-fi here, but the tablet would make it easier to communicate with him at night. She could probably find a large enough keyboard to hit with paws. "Will it be safe?" she worried. "They know where I live. What if someone's staking it out or something?"
RE: Any Shelter [Closed] - Tindome - 12-01-2019
"Ah." That made things much easier. Obviously he wouldn't be hurting any of those.
He was pleased with how quickly she'd calmed down. They'd made so much progress! He had to be careful not to overuse it, lest she notice, but this had made for a good test. He might have given her a treat, if he could get away with it. Her better mood would have to be its own reward.
"Non," he said. "No clothes. We will get you clothes. You will be in my home, and so you must dress as is appropriate for a member of my household. If you are to stay here, this is a rule you must abide. I will pay, and so it will present no undue hardship to you. Yes?"
He didn't mind sharing his home—particularly not with someone who had proven so entertaining so far. But he'd seen some of the things she considered appropriate daily wear, and had no interest in having to see them all through the day. Not that she was going to be a purely decorative guest, but as long as she was going to be here, she might as well be a bit decorative. It wasn't as if he weren't doing her the same kindness.
"Good," he said, the corner of his mouth curling into a crooked smile, a glint in his eye. "That will save us some time, I should think."
He stood, his weight on his good leg, and made his way to his closet with a careful limp. It didn't hurt quite so badly now, but he'd rather not risk a stumble. He found another cane hanging up on the wall, solid ebony with a handle of pure gold. There were a subtle series of dents where his fingers gripped it as he looked over various shoeboxes stacked against the wall on the floor.
An easy-to-match black peep-toe pump with an ankle strap, size nine. He knew he'd have at least one. He came back out into the room, cane in one hand and box in the other. "Try these," he ordered, offering them to her.
He was pleased with how quickly she'd calmed down. They'd made so much progress! He had to be careful not to overuse it, lest she notice, but this had made for a good test. He might have given her a treat, if he could get away with it. Her better mood would have to be its own reward.
"Non," he said. "No clothes. We will get you clothes. You will be in my home, and so you must dress as is appropriate for a member of my household. If you are to stay here, this is a rule you must abide. I will pay, and so it will present no undue hardship to you. Yes?"
He didn't mind sharing his home—particularly not with someone who had proven so entertaining so far. But he'd seen some of the things she considered appropriate daily wear, and had no interest in having to see them all through the day. Not that she was going to be a purely decorative guest, but as long as she was going to be here, she might as well be a bit decorative. It wasn't as if he weren't doing her the same kindness.
"Good," he said, the corner of his mouth curling into a crooked smile, a glint in his eye. "That will save us some time, I should think."
He stood, his weight on his good leg, and made his way to his closet with a careful limp. It didn't hurt quite so badly now, but he'd rather not risk a stumble. He found another cane hanging up on the wall, solid ebony with a handle of pure gold. There were a subtle series of dents where his fingers gripped it as he looked over various shoeboxes stacked against the wall on the floor.
An easy-to-match black peep-toe pump with an ankle strap, size nine. He knew he'd have at least one. He came back out into the room, cane in one hand and box in the other. "Try these," he ordered, offering them to her.
RE: Any Shelter [Closed] - SolitareLee - 12-01-2019
Bree opened her mouth to protest, then quickly closed it. She didn't understand the logic there at all, but you know what, fine. Whatever he wanted. He could play dress up and put her in ball gowns if that was the prerequisite for staying here. It was weird, but as soon as he said the word 'rule' she settled immediately, if uncomfortably. She didn't get it, but if it was a rule, well... "Okay," she said, nodding. "Well, then, we can just get my tablet, then, and some shower stuff." Toothbrush, deodorant, et cetera. The necessities. "And I guess some food." She had pretty specific dietary restrictions, after all, and didn't think she'd be surviving on a diet of caviar and expensive ham.
She was a bit worried about the glint in his eye at the prospect of finding a werewolf at her apartment, but she trusted him to know what he could handle. Maybe this would all be over before it started, he'd have a random werewolf send a message back to their boss and she'd be home free without even having to bother. She somehow doubted it would be so easy, though.
She considered the box she was being handed. Why... Why did he have shoes still in their labeled box in his closet. Was there a fucking entire shoe store in there?! Why did he just have a size nine women's shoe lying around? And more importantly, why was it a high heeled shoe? She couldn't have worn sneakers with this dress, even she knew that, but... She eyed the shoes warily.
"I, uh... don't know how to walk in heels," she said, blushing at the admission. Literally when would she have ever needed to? She grew up on a farm and turned into a dog at sunset. "My mom's apartment is all the way downtown, I can't walk there in..." She trailed off, realizing belatedly the flaw in her logic. They would probably be taking a cab or something. He had a cane for fuck's sake. "Actually I'm not even sure I can make it down the stairs in these," she said dubiously. "I've never even worn heels."
RE: Any Shelter [Closed] - Tindome - 12-01-2019
Jean chuckled. "We can buy for you food, also," he pointed out. If her diet was anything like her closet, he'd prefer it. "Today will be busy—easier to go out, I should think." He knew a few places that ought to be able to work around any restrictions she might have. They could stop for lunch, but probably couldn't risk dinner. He wouldn't bother getting groceries until he determined if alliums were out of the question.
"Another first!" he said cheerfully. He sat on the bed again. "They are only two inches," he said, his tone making clear that he barely considered this a heel worth mentioning. "They have an ankle strap, besides." He knew from experience that heels weren't half as much struggle if they were strapped on securely. It was the kind that slid on without straps and laces that were the absolute devil.
"If it makes you feel better about it, you may wait to put them on until we are downstairs," he said. "Only check that they will fit you, first, so that I do not need to come up for another pair. After that… ah. You should not need to do much walking anyway, yes? We will be on equal footing, so to speak."
"Another first!" he said cheerfully. He sat on the bed again. "They are only two inches," he said, his tone making clear that he barely considered this a heel worth mentioning. "They have an ankle strap, besides." He knew from experience that heels weren't half as much struggle if they were strapped on securely. It was the kind that slid on without straps and laces that were the absolute devil.
"If it makes you feel better about it, you may wait to put them on until we are downstairs," he said. "Only check that they will fit you, first, so that I do not need to come up for another pair. After that… ah. You should not need to do much walking anyway, yes? We will be on equal footing, so to speak."
RE: Any Shelter [Closed] - SolitareLee - 12-01-2019
"A-alright," she agreed, trying not to worry about the amount of debt that was stacking on her right now. The clothes, he said he would cover, since it was his rule, but the food... It was okay, since he was offering, right? It was admittedly a bit nice to have everything being taken care of by someone else like this. She couldn't think of a time when it had happened before, not after she left her great-grandparents house as a young teenager. "Thanks." He needed to stop reminding her about her first times, however. At this rate, he was going to wind up with most of them. Not like it was hard, she supposed... while she'd experienced a lot since leaving home, it wasn't that much. She kept herself isolated out of fear and habit.
"And my first time staying at someone else's house," she added dryly, since the notion seemed to amuse him. "And my first time going clothes shopping with someone else. Any others you'd like to knock off the list while we're at it? I've never been to an opera."
Only two inches was two inches more heel than she'd ever worn before, but she obediently slid it onto her foot to see if it would fit. It did, for better or worse, sliding into place like Cinderella's own glass slipper. She was already uncomfortable with the way it felt on her foot, but she had to admit it looked good. Between this, the dress, and the shawl, she doubted even her own mother would recognize her. Not that that was saying much, admittedly. She slid the other one on, just to make sure both fit well.
"I might have to borrow your other cane, then," she said with a snort. At least the apartment had a lift, even if it was kind of an ancient thing.
RE: Any Shelter [Closed] - Tindome - 12-01-2019
"Is it?" he asked, surprised. "Is it only that you prefer your own bed? Ah—but I suppose I should not pry." He brightened. "Would you like to go to the opera?" he asked, quite amused by the idea. Her sarcasm made it sound so unattainable, as if the city did not have its own opera house. He frowned. "Oh, but those are a bit late for you, I should think. Except for the Sunday shows. What day is it?" He always had such trouble remembering days. They went by so quickly, all one after the other.
"We can share this one, if you are not so opposed to taking my arm," he pointed out. He opened the bedroom door, and held it open. "If you can think of nothing else, we may as well get started. The day is not so long, after all."
He waited for her before making his own way to the stairs, carefully holding the rail as she descended. His eyes had been darker since he'd gotten her to calm down, all her emotions at a low simmer.
"Where did I leave my keys?" he murmured once he reached the first floor, opening and shutting drawers on the side table he kept in the hall. It had been a while now since he last used his car, and whenever he needed it, he wound up having to hunt down the keys again. Each time he decided he ought to start keeping his keys somewhere easier to find, and so each time they were somewhere new and more confusing.
Perhaps he ought to get some manner of cabinet. A dedicated cabinet for keys and phone cords and other such things.
"A-ha!" he said as he found them. He picked of the pair of leather gloves sitting atop the table, the keyring dangling from his fingers.
"We can share this one, if you are not so opposed to taking my arm," he pointed out. He opened the bedroom door, and held it open. "If you can think of nothing else, we may as well get started. The day is not so long, after all."
He waited for her before making his own way to the stairs, carefully holding the rail as she descended. His eyes had been darker since he'd gotten her to calm down, all her emotions at a low simmer.
"Where did I leave my keys?" he murmured once he reached the first floor, opening and shutting drawers on the side table he kept in the hall. It had been a while now since he last used his car, and whenever he needed it, he wound up having to hunt down the keys again. Each time he decided he ought to start keeping his keys somewhere easier to find, and so each time they were somewhere new and more confusing.
Perhaps he ought to get some manner of cabinet. A dedicated cabinet for keys and phone cords and other such things.
"A-ha!" he said as he found them. He picked of the pair of leather gloves sitting atop the table, the keyring dangling from his fingers.
RE: Any Shelter [Closed] - SolitareLee - 12-01-2019
She squinted at him, trying to detect sarcasm. It was... It was because she... turned into a tiny fucking dog at night, obviously. Oh, actually, he might not know she did that every night. He would need to know that. She took a deep breath like he'd told her to before, trying to stem off the anxiety that was already building at the prospect. "It's the um," she gestured, as if there was a gesture for 'I turn into a tiny dog'. "The dog thing. I do that every night. So, uh, yeah, don't get out much. Or, y'know, need much in the way of beds, mine or other people's." She had one, but it didn't see a lot of use. She changed the sheets maybe once a month, and that only because they eventually got kind of musty.
"It's Saturday," she informed him as they headed down the stairs, her barefoot with her would-be shoes, which she was still very dubious about, in her hand. She figured she'd rather wobble than take his arm; they were already basically wearing the rich version of couple's outfits, at just past dawn on a Saturday. "Are you being serious?" She wouldn't get her hopes up. There was a whole day for her to annoy him, or for him to change his mind. But she would really like to fucking see an opera now that she knew it was a thing that could plausibly be done, somehow. "I didn't even know operas had matinees."
While he was rummaging around for his house keys, Bridget sat on a nearby chair and fumbled into the shoes. She strapped them firmly around her ankles, under the impression that it would help significantly, since he'd mentioned it. Cautiously, she stood up.
She wobbled violently, catching herself against the arm rest. Her center of gravity was all wrong! Oh god! How did anyone rest their weight on these things? They felt terrifyingly precarious, and these weren't even the narrowest heels she'd seen women wearing. They weren't wedges, either, though. She was distracted by her predicament, half bent over Jean's chair, by his proclamation that he'd found his keys.
"O... kay," she said, trying to stand upright. It was a challenge. She was teetering. She needed remedial heels lessons. Why couldn't the ladies who liked to sleep with sexy rich immortals wear flats. She took a shaky step forward, and wobbled, but didn't fall. "Are we calling a cab or something?" Hadn't he left his phone upstairs? She hadn't noticed a car here before, or a garage. This was a townhouse, if an exaggeratedly beautiful one; there wasn't exactly a lot of places to hide a car.
She took another wobbling step. This was going to be an ordeal. But she found that if she put her weight forward, like she was standing on her tip-toes... well, it was still shaky as hell, and she was going to get sore feet fast this way, but at least it would let her walk without breaking an ankle.