noreasonneeded | IC/Overflow Post

Will you keep it in a jar in your office? A little reminder?

[She knows he has a heart, he wouldn't look after the Crows the way he does if he didn't have a heart.

She finishes off the last of her wine at sets the glass down.]

I have been told on more than one occasion that my office needs more decorations. It would serve them right, really.

I know a medical illustrator, I could maybe procure you a heart if you really want.

I'll keep that in mind. I think I'll hold off on office decorating, but it never hurts to have a contact on hand.

Maybe I'll sneak in a slip a little decoration in there. Spice the place up.

I knew I was right when I called you schemestress. Is this break in to be random or spooky themed for the season?

Maybe I'll bide my time until February and cover your office in pink and hearts.

Devious. Is this general pink decorations or pink candy?

I can see you enjoying Valentine's Day.

Both.

Valentine's day is a commercialized mess. But it can be a little bit fun. And I think it would be a better surprise than a bunch of bats and skeletons in your office.

They each do have a different vibe to them. Valentine's and Halloween.

[There's a pause before he shares the rest.] I'm not much for holidays now, but as a little kid, Valentine's was on the rotation. [It is indeed a commercialized mess, like every holiday, but Kaz can't hate the few memories he has of his father and Jordie. It's a good memory.] It was really just homemade things, but it wasn't the worst experience.

Edited 2023-10-07 19:43 (UTC)

You have a Halloween vibe all the time.

[With the dark clothes and crow cane.]

Holidays lose something as an adult. I used to love the summer Solstace, we would be up until late, dancing and drinking. It was wonderful.

Just a perfectly respectable businessman with a demon reputation on the side.

[He finishes up the wine in his glass as well.]

I suppose harvest festivals now don't have quite the same appeal.

Exactly.

No, harvest festivals are all pumpkin spice and apple picking now.

[She stretches and yawns.]

If you're tired don't let me keep you awake. I can clean up here, it's only the two glasses.

You already cleaned up everything else, I can manage two glasses.

Are you not tired?

How about we split the difference and each take one? You can even take the bottle and tip it for the last drops, I won't judge.

[He shifts to the end of his seat, leaning forward to grasp one of the glasses.]

Maybe a little. I don't know that I can even tell any longer.

I am already feeling judged.

[She grabs the other glass and the bottle, she's still giving a bit of a smile and a tease]

You are welcome to try and sleep, I'll make a wall of pillow.

With admiration only, let no food or drink go to waste.

[He follows after her into her kitchen, moving to her side to wait for his chance to rinse out the glass. It's been a very long time since he last sat down to eat and drink without either rushing or interspersing it with work. It's been even longer since he shared a bed, and never with someone who wasn't family. There's a part of him that wonders what it might be like now, a part that craves crossing the bridge back to fully stand in the land of the living. Another part, the part that knows how restless his sleep is, that knows if he lets her help means relinquishing some control, that fills him with nerves.

He's faced down death and even this sliver of intimacy is terrifying.

If he says no though, he can't pretend he isn't a coward. Not any longer after his flaws have been pointed out to him by his friends.]

Maybe try it. Though you might want to kick me out. I dunno if I snore.

In that case.

[She rinses her glass and then tips the bottle to her lips to finish it off.

Stella is aware that what she is suggesting is a huge decision for him, which is why she doesn't want to pressure him at all. She will do everything she can to provide an accommodating space for him to move at whatever pace he needs to.

And she has all the time in the world for that progress.]

If you do, I'll send you to the sofa.

[It also gives him an out if he feels he needs it. The sofa is there, with a throw blanket and everything.]

I'll hold you to that.

[She hasn't pressured him at all, merely left a window open. An offer on the table, to speak more in his terms. And while it makes him nervous, while he can't plan ten steps ahead right now, he takes it. An act without a net, but not without contingencies she doesn't mind helping put into place.

He rinses off his glass after her, wiping his hands on his pants and gives a little nod. He licks his lips, a sign he's steeling himself, but the nod is sure.]

After you. I don't know which side of the bed you prefer.

[She nods. In a long life you meet all sorts of people with all sorts of trauma. Stella usually has a good grasp on when she can push someone just a little to try and help. This seems like a good opportunity. It's a little trust exercise that he is able to leave at any time.

She leads him to her bedroom, she is already dressed comfortably enough. She hops up onto the left side and starts arranging her decorative pillows down the middle.]

This reminds me of building pillow forts.

[She's set up a neat little wall dividing the bed in half. Even split it is larger than the single one in his office.]

[He watches in a little amusement at the pile of pillows on her bed that are neatly arranged to provide a comfortable barrier. It’s nice to talk right now to focus on something other than his nerves.] Who did you build pillow forts with? Your human family?

[It doesn’t escape his attention that her bed is infinitely nicer than his. He still has the same bed he’s had since the secondhand furniture was shoved into the Slat years ago, and it’s the same pillow he’s had, too. Singular. Kaz spares no effort or money on his own comfort. With that said, he can still notice it, and as he cautiously sits on the edge of the bed, the cushions give way without a groan and spring felt beneath him.] You’re spoiling me, you know.

Both them and my sisters on Olympus. Give children pillows and it seems a universal that they will build and fight with them.

[They are fond memories of hers, a lot of her childhood was quite good.

Most of her furniture is second hand, but her bed and her shower were things she splurged on. They are places of comfort and calm for her.]

Maybe that's been my plan all along. That and to convince you that maybe you need a pillow that isn't as old as you.

I can't say that assessment is wrong. Though perhaps not always limited to literal children.

[Has Kaz ever smacked Jesper with a sofa pillow or vice versa? Yes. There's really no excuse for it like he could with Jordie. They're just immature like that sometimes when it's just their inner circle.]

If you fold it in half it's less flat. Perfectly still usable.

[He leans his cane against her bedside table, then slowly lowers himself to lie on his back on the right side of her bed.]

You pillow fight at the Slat don't you?

[She tucks herself under her blankets and lats down. It feels odd to have someone close but feeling far away.]

Well, now I know what I'm leaving in your office. A real pillow and a bunch of little hearts.

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