[She leans forward slightly, peering. Yup, that's Hello Kitty alright. There is a tiny Hello Kitty high on his ear and it's so completely incongruous to that serious face and the deadpan tone he clarifies in that she should be laughing at him. But in a weird sort of way it's so completely him - to walk around with it with no regard for the fact that it's kind of ridiculous, it's there because he wants it there and that's all that matters - and when she does crack a smile, it's tender.]
[Somehow her looking at him without any sort of chiding in it, like she knows it must be sentiment that keeps it there, makes him way more bashful than her laughing at him ever could've. Whatever part of his brain that would raise a brow and ask if she's really gone this long without noticing, then make fun of her for it because Heder please - that's momentarily out of commission.]
Ah - [He licks his lips and adjusts his grip on the bike, doesn't look away or blush quite yet.] Couple days before ya came back. Hong Kong gave it to me.
[Of course it's more complicated than that but he stops there, biting on the inside of his cheek. It's not that he's unwilling to discuss it with her, it's that he suddenly feels shy and scrutinized and isn't sure what her reaction will be.]
[Okay, his hair had been down then, and a mess. And when she'd seen him after she'd been way too preoccupied with the way it felt like he was stepping right on her heart to pay that much attention, but still. That's a long time, and it pains her that she's been removed enough that she's only noticing it now. And then he clams up, and it's... well. She's the one who's been avoiding him. If he wants to keep something back now, she can hardly complain.]
It - you're gonna think I'm making fun, but I swear I'm not - it kinda suits you.
[There's a blink where he flattens his lips and wants to ask just to make sure - what - but she's pretty terrible at keeping a straight face. Besides, she just said she wasn't so he rolls with it.]
Y'think so. [Not a question. Turning over the idea because he's never actually wondered over if it suits him or not, and then he shrugs as well as he can with both hands attached to a bike.] Japan an' Hong Kong thought it was a good idea, too.
[Netherlands she never said it was a good idea...]
[Japan. Right. She doesn't know what was going on there, by any means, but she knows enough to tread carefully, to ease off. If he wants her to know he'll tell her, right? Otherwise it's just an earring.]
Miffy? You lost me.
[Light, and easy, but her hand settles on the bike near to his, fingers curved in the opposite direction, not touching but waiting.}
[Whatever she's thinking about Japan is over his head, because - well, he doesn't actually gasp. Doesn't come near gasping, even, doesn't part his lips or suck in a breath at all, but he looks downright horrified and borderline offended that she would know who Hello Fucking Kitty is and not Miffy. In fact.]
Y'know who Hello Kitty is, though.
[There is no right answer here, Heder, accept your fate. The rest of this lift ride will very likely be a grudge-ridden rant even if she slides her hand closer, or he slides his closer to hers.]
[Thins ice, here, and she can tell but she can't tell why. So it's a shrug and:]
Yeah. It's the cat with a bow and no mouth, right? My last year at school there was a girl who was obsessed with it. Drew it on my chemistry homework.
[She's still annoyed about that, and it shows. The paper had come back with an A+ grade but a question mark next to the drawing, and if there's one thing she's always hated it's not being taken seriously. Which, funnily enough. is the exact sentiment that keeps her from saying what she's thinking, which is "so Miffy's like the Dutch version?"]
It is. An' Miffy's cuter. Woulda been okay if she drew Miffy on it.
[He is 110% convinced of this, and 120% serious. And then he narrows his eyes and scowls while he waits for her to agree with that sentiment even though she's never even seen the poor rabbit - doesn't even know that Miffy is a rabbit, yet - seemingly just as annoyed as she is over the Hello Kitty graffiti but for an entirely different reason. (Also Heather's own insecurities just prevented a bona-fide blow up in the lift.)]
[W o w you sure take your adorable cartoon characters seriously for a grown-ass man, Nederland. She looks at his dead serious face and wants to cup it in her hands, kiss his forehead and his cheek and his mouth and pull him close get it right, but the best she can do is take a guess.]
Is Miffy a rabbit?
[A quirk of her mouth there, and it's not laughing at him so much as it is sheer relief because she was about to call it Missy and caught herself. It's a rabbit, isn't it? She'd bet her left tit it's a rabbit, if there was anyone in this lift who wasn't so serious they'd probably try to collect.]
[Hello Kitty is a fucking rip off and made more money and Japan likes it better and it's a fucking rip off have you even seen the - okay Heder hasn't seen the two of them. But Miffy is cuter. And while he can guess where her own guess comes from, there is far more to be offended over than Heather making fun of his love of rabbits. In fact it's so serious that he attempts to glare that quirk of her mouth back down into submission before he looks up and answers her.]
She's a fuckin' adorable rabbit.
[As much as he'd love to keep ranting there's an interruption when the lift actually. Gets to where they wanted it to go. Somehow they've spent the entire ride crouched on the floor, face to face, bike in the way like it was deliberate.]
[Oh, thank god for bikes and Miffy. The lift ride is over and relatively pain-free. She unfolds, rolls her shoulders and walks backwards out of the lift, still watching him, that little smile not going anywhere.]
Then yeah, Miffy would've been better. It's still pretty cute, though.
[And probably a better reminder of who it's from, but no way in hell is she traipsing into that particular minefield. This is so close to normal, and she really doesn't want to go prodding at something that might make him close off or shut her out again.]
[For a second he nearly gets right back on the bike - if she doesn't think it is going to be his new fifth limb she is dead wrong - realizes it's kind of a waste of effort and huffs back and forth between it and her. Fine, he'll wheel it along and harrumph over Hello Kitty's existence as he attempts to walk as close as she'll let him. Not that he notices he's doing it. Too busy giving her a grumpy earful as they make their way, frowning down at her and speaking like he's trying to convince her to join his side of the argument. Which. Yeah. He is.]
An' a ripoff. Miffy was first. She's in books for little kids, teaches 'em life lessons in poems. Sixteen pages, drawings on one side, four lines on the other. Good colors. Small size. Real damn easy to read. They only made Hello Kitty 'cause Japan likes buying kawaii shit.
[The utter annihilation of the word kawaii is intentional (it shouldn't sound that bad even with his accent) and he does it with no trace of humor. This is an argument he and Japan have had dozens of times and it's very important that Heder take his side here.]
[Stress less, Nederland, you said the magic word. Books, books and poetry? She's Team Miffy all the way. And the way he phrases it - like it's the rabbit teaching the lessons, not the books - just makes it cuter. So she's smiling in the face of that frown, nodding as she walks, and if he's not aware of how close he's getting she's not going to tip him off by moving away.
Until he says kawaii. It's about the last word she ever expected to hear out of him, and in his low, deep voice it would be hilarious anyway but then he goes and mangles it beyond what can possibly be blamed on his accent and says it with such disdain that she actually has to duck her head for a second. The attempt to squash her laughter fails, and it escaped in a snort.]
So Hello Kitty's Miffy with all the important stuff missing, basically.
[The fact that she's trying to talk her way out of that bubble of laughter doesn't mean it's not true, but she does have to resist the urge to tack a cheeky 'and less cute' on the end. There's such a thing as pushing your luck.]
Right. [Basically that should've been a huff instead of a word, and instead of swiping his hand to open his door he thwacks the console while she laughs. Her laughter doesn't do a damned thing to stem the annoyed tide he's got going on, but it checks its vehemence somewhat - always sobering when someone who isn't a nation catches a glimpse of just how ridiculous they can be - and in her case it always seems to feel more like she walked in on him doing something far more embarrassing than ranting about a petty grudge.
So the tail end of his mini tirade comes out in a rush as he jerks his head to let her step in, eyes suddenly locked on a patch of wall.]
Yeah, well. Sometimes people are dumb. What can you do?
[Not much. And in a display of being dumb and doing not much about it, once she's in his room she sort of... freezes up. Tries to keep it low-key, tries to cling to that brief burst of normality, but it's hard when she just doesn't know what to do anymore. All the usual options - flop down somewhere, grab Lodewijk for a kiss, grab him - are worthy of a lot more forethought than she's used to giving this and she just hovers. Jams her hands in the pockets of her jeans and shifts her weight to her back foot in the hopes it'll look casual.]
[Well, she's freezing in the middle of where he wants his bike to go, so even though he notices it and shuts up he lightly rams the shitty tires against her calves.]
In the way. Like that.
[As if the prodding wasn't enough, but Lodewijk is dashing back and forth and in and out between her and him and the bike - the little guy is plenty used to bikes - and that's more than a little distracting. And he could just tell her where her gift was, but. He doesn't want her sorting through his stuff. More importantly, he wants to be able to give it to her, which is suddenly much more daunting as he realizes he has to fight the desire not to on two different fronts. So he chews on his lip and stares down at the carpet as the door slides shut (how final) and waits for her to move as he writes what he needs to say in his head.]
[Smooth, Mason. Still, him being kind of a jerk about it is weirdly, depressingly comforting and she steps lightly out of the way, careful of Lodewijk rocketing around on the floor. His enthusiasm is adorable and once she's out of the bike's intended path she crouches down and flashes the rabbit a wink. Thanks for keeping the secret, little guy.]
Hasn't seen a lot of people lately, [he mutters, resting the bike against the wall and oh if he only knew.] Can't take 'im to the Gardens right now.
[But he doesn't elaborate on it and even though he wants to he doesn't look the two of them over, either. No comment on teasing the rabbit - too used to it to notice. Instead he changes the topic and opens a desk drawer to paw around, obviously stalling because that shit is way too organized for him to have to paw around for anything that's there, let alone a book.]
Uh. [And a glance to the bike only to realize that he's still got one hand on the handlebars - after some glaring he rips it away, looks at her, shy again.] Don't think this is -
[As good as a bike. No way.]
Hope it's okay.
[With that he comes over and flops on the floor by them (too close, doesn't notice), holding a book that actually looks pretty damn nice despite the fact that it's bound in staking twine from the Gardens and the cover isn't leather - none here - but something a little more impractical for a book. Wood, because that's what is around to use, plain and rough-hewn. And of course he doesn't hand it over, just thumbs at it and watches to see what she thinks so far. Handing it over is going to take another minute of steeling himself.]
[She's just going to leave that alone. It's not lying if she doesn't say anything, okay, even if she does make a little 'oops' face at Lodewijk in the meantime, petting his ears while Netherlands does whatever he needs to do over there because he's really not fooling anyone. Looks up at the uh and then goes silent and still.
That's a book.
So everything from him drawing her attention to it to settling on the floor is observed dumbly, wide-eyed and with her lips parted around what she was going to say like she hasn't realized she's not saying it. Too close? Who cares, she's leaning towards him anyway, though she's keeping her hands to herself for now.]
You made this.
[It's not a question, however weighted with feeling it is. One hand comes up and then closes, rests on her knee, because damn she wants to touch it but. Baby steps.]
[The longer she stares the more he fidgets, thinking that she'd probably have liked a book with more words in it and maybe he should've transcribed her a book of poetry or history or folk tales instead of what it is - a book full of carefully illustrated flowers and their meanings penned out slowly, not in his usual scrawl, alongside. There's the occasional comment or tale to go along with a few, but. It's not really a book to read so much as a dictionary with pretty pictures.]
Yeah. Uh. Started a while ago - when...
[Then he loses track of what he was going to say when he sees how much she wants it, glances down, mostly apprehensive but a tad possessive. Just. Get it over with. He turns it over so it's sitting on his palm and pushes it forward with a sigh.]
[Whatever he had been going to say, she's taking it to mean the same thing as what had happened with the bike, which she'd asked for when she was still flush-cheeked and giddy on what might have been. So there's a beat where she drops her eyes to the floor, but then he's holding it out to her and - well.
She takes it, not exactly gingerly but a little more slowly than she ordinarily might. Skims a hand over the wooden cover, gentle fingertips over the twine bindings, but when she finally opens it she goes still again, a sharp little inhale.
It's nothing she'd ever have thought she wanted, not something she'd ask for, but now that it's here in her hands it's perfect and that's a familiar feeling that ought to be a kick in the gut but she's too busy poring over those beautiful illustrations and the careful shapes of his handwriting to make the connection. Lost in it to the point where her quiet is actually pretty rude before she remembers to respond.]
[Before that, even. When she was gone was the rest of it, when he had too much time to miss her and not enough to distract himself with and (foolishly, maybe) hoped he wasn't wasting his time working on a book he might never be able to give away. Kind of makes it easier to give it away, now, because at the time he started he wasn't sure if he'd have to opportunity to. He doesn't make a single move to get it back, just ducks his head and watches her like his hair is down and hanging in his eyes to hide behind. Another old, childlike habit he's mostly grown out of - his hair hasn't regularly gone unstyled for two hundred years - not sure if her silence is good or bad.
When she does speak he blinks and slowly tilts his chin up, confusion flickering for a moment because why couldn't she. Oh. Right. He bites his lip for a moment and nods. Of course it is.]
[As soon as he nods she's moving, throwing her arms around him with the book still clutched firmly in one hand. Tucks her face in against his shoulder and breathes in slowly, breathes him in, and when she breathes out again it's shaky. When she speaks (still holding him, face still tucked close), her voice is tight.]
Thank you. It's beautiful.
[And it's clear that so much care has gone into it, it must have taken forever. Which means she's been wrong about at least one assumption she'd made about his behavior and the mask. And she's not crying, okay, she's just misting up a little. Right into the shoulder of his jumpsuit.]
[After the way she's tiptoed around him he's not expecting her to basically fling herself around him and then stay there, though he wastes no time in pulling her close, awkward with his legs in the way but that doesn't matter as soon as he hears how she sounds. With that his hand comes up to the back of her head and he swallows. Probably too close. Damn.]
Prob'ly shoulda made you something with - stories. Instead.
[Not that he's trying to write off her thanks, it's just. He's nervous - not sure why she's so close and so shaky and not sure what to do about it, let alone what she's okay with right now - and the worry he's been dwelling over is the first one out.]
But, uh... [Nope, asking if she's alright is abandoned as he concentrates on not pulling her into his lap or nuzzling against her hair. It's harder than it really should be, and he tilts his head back to look at the ceiling just so he won't be tempted. Stupid question, anyway.] Good. That y'think so.
[And because she's sort of laughing and Definitely Not Crying (honestly, she's out of the danger zone - especially with him being so him about it and immediately finding fault where none exists - but there's a lingering waver to her voice anyway and that comes out half-hiccuped and weird. She makes a face against his shoulder, turns her head to rest it there a moment, and clarifies.]
I've had books of stories all my life. I love them, but I've never had anything like this.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Since when?
no subject
Ah - [He licks his lips and adjusts his grip on the bike, doesn't look away or blush quite yet.] Couple days before ya came back. Hong Kong gave it to me.
[Of course it's more complicated than that but he stops there, biting on the inside of his cheek. It's not that he's unwilling to discuss it with her, it's that he suddenly feels shy and scrutinized and isn't sure what her reaction will be.]
no subject
[Okay, his hair had been down then, and a mess. And when she'd seen him after she'd been way too preoccupied with the way it felt like he was stepping right on her heart to pay that much attention, but still. That's a long time, and it pains her that she's been removed enough that she's only noticing it now. And then he clams up, and it's... well. She's the one who's been avoiding him. If he wants to keep something back now, she can hardly complain.]
It - you're gonna think I'm making fun, but I swear I'm not - it kinda suits you.
no subject
Y'think so. [Not a question. Turning over the idea because he's never actually wondered over if it suits him or not, and then he shrugs as well as he can with both hands attached to a bike.] Japan an' Hong Kong thought it was a good idea, too.
[Netherlands she never said it was a good idea...]
Shoulda been Miffy instead of Hello Kitty though.
no subject
[Japan. Right. She doesn't know what was going on there, by any means, but she knows enough to tread carefully, to ease off. If he wants her to know he'll tell her, right? Otherwise it's just an earring.]
Miffy? You lost me.
[Light, and easy, but her hand settles on the bike near to his, fingers curved in the opposite direction, not touching but waiting.}
no subject
Y'know who Hello Kitty is, though.
[There is no right answer here, Heder, accept your fate. The rest of this lift ride will very likely be a grudge-ridden rant even if she slides her hand closer, or he slides his closer to hers.]
no subject
Yeah. It's the cat with a bow and no mouth, right? My last year at school there was a girl who was obsessed with it. Drew it on my chemistry homework.
[She's still annoyed about that, and it shows. The paper had come back with an A+ grade but a question mark next to the drawing, and if there's one thing she's always hated it's not being taken seriously. Which, funnily enough. is the exact sentiment that keeps her from saying what she's thinking, which is "so Miffy's like the Dutch version?"]
no subject
It is. An' Miffy's cuter. Woulda been okay if she drew Miffy on it.
[He is 110% convinced of this, and 120% serious. And then he narrows his eyes and scowls while he waits for her to agree with that sentiment even though she's never even seen the poor rabbit - doesn't even know that Miffy is a rabbit, yet - seemingly just as annoyed as she is over the Hello Kitty graffiti but for an entirely different reason. (Also Heather's own insecurities just prevented a bona-fide blow up in the lift.)]
no subject
cup it in her hands, kiss his forehead and his cheek and his mouth and pull him closeget it right, but the best she can do is take a guess.]Is Miffy a rabbit?
[A quirk of her mouth there, and it's not laughing at him so much as it is sheer relief because she was about to call it Missy and caught herself. It's a rabbit, isn't it? She'd bet her left tit it's a rabbit, if there was anyone in this lift who wasn't so serious they'd probably try to collect.]
no subject
She's a fuckin' adorable rabbit.
[As much as he'd love to keep ranting there's an interruption when the lift actually. Gets to where they wanted it to go. Somehow they've spent the entire ride crouched on the floor, face to face, bike in the way like it was deliberate.]
no subject
Then yeah, Miffy would've been better. It's still pretty cute, though.
[And probably a better reminder of who it's from, but no way in hell is she traipsing into that particular minefield. This is so close to normal, and she really doesn't want to go prodding at something that might make him close off or shut her out again.]
no subject
An' a ripoff. Miffy was first. She's in books for little kids, teaches 'em life lessons in poems. Sixteen pages, drawings on one side, four lines on the other. Good colors. Small size. Real damn easy to read. They only made Hello Kitty 'cause Japan likes buying kawaii shit.
[The utter annihilation of the word kawaii is intentional (it shouldn't sound that bad even with his accent) and he does it with no trace of humor. This is an argument he and Japan have had dozens of times and it's very important that Heder take his side here.]
no subject
Until he says kawaii. It's about the last word she ever expected to hear out of him, and in his low, deep voice it would be hilarious anyway but then he goes and mangles it beyond what can possibly be blamed on his accent and says it with such disdain that she actually has to duck her head for a second. The attempt to squash her laughter fails, and it escaped in a snort.]
So Hello Kitty's Miffy with all the important stuff missing, basically.
[The fact that she's trying to talk her way out of that bubble of laughter doesn't mean it's not true, but she does have to resist the urge to tack a cheeky 'and less cute' on the end. There's such a thing as pushing your luck.]
no subject
So the tail end of his mini tirade comes out in a rush as he jerks his head to let her step in, eyes suddenly locked on a patch of wall.]
But Hello Kitty made a lot more money.
no subject
[Not much. And in a display of being dumb and doing not much about it, once she's in his room she sort of... freezes up. Tries to keep it low-key, tries to cling to that brief burst of normality, but it's hard when she just doesn't know what to do anymore. All the usual options - flop down somewhere, grab Lodewijk for a kiss, grab him - are worthy of a lot more forethought than she's used to giving this and she just hovers. Jams her hands in the pockets of her jeans and shifts her weight to her back foot in the hopes it'll look casual.]
no subject
In the way. Like that.
[As if the prodding wasn't enough, but Lodewijk is dashing back and forth and in and out between her and him and the bike - the little guy is plenty used to bikes - and that's more than a little distracting. And he could just tell her where her gift was, but. He doesn't want her sorting through his stuff. More importantly, he wants to be able to give it to her, which is suddenly much more daunting as he realizes he has to fight the desire not to on two different fronts. So he chews on his lip and stares down at the carpet as the door slides shut (how final) and waits for her to move as he writes what he needs to say in his head.]
no subject
[Smooth, Mason. Still, him being kind of a jerk about it is weirdly, depressingly comforting and she steps lightly out of the way, careful of Lodewijk rocketing around on the floor. His enthusiasm is adorable and once she's out of the bike's intended path she crouches down and flashes the rabbit a wink. Thanks for keeping the secret, little guy.]
Somebody's excited. And awake, wow.
[Yes she is now teasing the rabbit, what of it.]
no subject
[But he doesn't elaborate on it and even though he wants to he doesn't look the two of them over, either. No comment on teasing the rabbit - too used to it to notice. Instead he changes the topic and opens a desk drawer to paw around, obviously stalling because that shit is way too organized for him to have to paw around for anything that's there, let alone a book.]
Uh. [And a glance to the bike only to realize that he's still got one hand on the handlebars - after some glaring he rips it away, looks at her, shy again.] Don't think this is -
[As good as a bike. No way.]
Hope it's okay.
[With that he comes over and flops on the floor by them (too close, doesn't notice), holding a book that actually looks pretty damn nice despite the fact that it's bound in staking twine from the Gardens and the cover isn't leather - none here - but something a little more impractical for a book. Wood, because that's what is around to use, plain and rough-hewn. And of course he doesn't hand it over, just thumbs at it and watches to see what she thinks so far. Handing it over is going to take another minute of steeling himself.]
no subject
That's a book.
So everything from him drawing her attention to it to settling on the floor is observed dumbly, wide-eyed and with her lips parted around what she was going to say like she hasn't realized she's not saying it. Too close? Who cares, she's leaning towards him anyway, though she's keeping her hands to herself for now.]
You made this.
[It's not a question, however weighted with feeling it is. One hand comes up and then closes, rests on her knee, because damn she wants to touch it but. Baby steps.]
no subject
Yeah. Uh. Started a while ago - when...
[Then he loses track of what he was going to say when he sees how much she wants it, glances down, mostly apprehensive but a tad possessive. Just. Get it over with. He turns it over so it's sitting on his palm and pushes it forward with a sigh.]
Take it.
no subject
She takes it, not exactly gingerly but a little more slowly than she ordinarily might. Skims a hand over the wooden cover, gentle fingertips over the twine bindings, but when she finally opens it she goes still again, a sharp little inhale.
It's nothing she'd ever have thought she wanted, not something she'd ask for, but now that it's here in her hands it's perfect and that's a familiar feeling that ought to be a kick in the gut but she's too busy poring over those beautiful illustrations and the careful shapes of his handwriting to make the connection. Lost in it to the point where her quiet is actually pretty rude before she remembers to respond.]
I - this is -
If I hug you right now, would that be okay?
no subject
When she does speak he blinks and slowly tilts his chin up, confusion flickering for a moment because why couldn't she. Oh. Right. He bites his lip for a moment and nods. Of course it is.]
no subject
Thank you. It's beautiful.
[And it's clear that so much care has gone into it, it must have taken forever. Which means she's been wrong about at least one assumption she'd made about his behavior and the mask. And she's not crying, okay, she's just misting up a little. Right into the shoulder of his jumpsuit.]
no subject
Prob'ly shoulda made you something with - stories. Instead.
[Not that he's trying to write off her thanks, it's just. He's nervous - not sure why she's so close and so shaky and not sure what to do about it, let alone what she's okay with right now - and the worry he's been dwelling over is the first one out.]
But, uh... [Nope, asking if she's alright is abandoned as he concentrates on not pulling her into his lap or nuzzling against her hair. It's harder than it really should be, and he tilts his head back to look at the ceiling just so he won't be tempted. Stupid question, anyway.] Good. That y'think so.
no subject
[And because she's sort of laughing and Definitely Not Crying (honestly, she's out of the danger zone - especially with him being so him about it and immediately finding fault where none exists - but there's a lingering waver to her voice anyway and that comes out half-hiccuped and weird. She makes a face against his shoulder, turns her head to rest it there a moment, and clarifies.]
I've had books of stories all my life. I love them, but I've never had anything like this.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)