driftfleet | Heron May mingle

[Now's a good time for Shinji to take the scissors and shove them under the bed. He'll clean them off later, when he's in a darker, more prosaic mood. For now, he's only thinking about nice things, warm things, when he studies Asuka's face with the intent to memorize it. He has never seen her so vulnerable before. So caught off-guard. Not even the Asuka he used to know had looked like this. Maybe she had a similar face on the night she invited herself onto his futon, but she didn't let him turn over...]

I mean it. Every word. Every single one. If you wanna deny it, I'll just have to remind you.

[His soul is especially brilliant when he's telling the truth, when he's being honest with himself and others. Newly risen from his crouch, he moves over and sits down beside her on the bed, closer than usual for him. He's still looking at her like she's the only star in the sky.]

It feels better, doesn't it? Not having to wear this old thing... [Not having to wear the only thing that has kept her infection in check. Shinji doesn't know that consciously, but he's rejecting it for that reason. An Angel shouldn't be fettered by the machinations of Lilin. He drops the glyph-covered eyepatch off to the side, discarding it like a piece of trash.]

Edited 2016-06-02 11:22 (UTC)

[Asuka feels so insanely vulnerable, like a snail without its shell, naked and soft and prime for attacking. But Shinji isn't going to hurt her with barbed words and cruel comments. He isn't going to chide her for being and not being the girl he went to middle school with. He isn't going to pity her forever. He just said she was beautiful.]

[She reaches for the patch seconds after he tosses it away, as if it's an afterthought. Her left eye isn't good for showcasing any emotion, eerie as it is, but her right looks surprised.] It doesn't feel so heavy. [The dull pressure is mostly gone. Hints of that unearthly gleam return to her iris, like tiny sparks. Her breath's never seemed more foreign until this moment as she leans in to kiss him, clasping his hand. It's the only way she knows to thank him without words.]

[Oh, wow. It feels so much better to kiss Asuka without the eyepatch getting in the way. The pressure is gone. There's no weird prickle to the air. A welling of heat is no less present and insistent, though. Her infected eye is responding to... him? Shinji feels a sudden yet harmless tugging sensation in his chest that he can't really explain. It succeeds in drawing him closer, his mouth mimicking hers, their fingers twisting together. He kisses her with the intent to kiss her some more.

But then he remembers himself, and he turns his head away, taking a deep breath. He doesn't want to seem too desperate.]

Spend the day with me?

[He has no plans to leave this room. In fact, he hasn't visited the polluted moon in a while, mostly out of protest. Everything about the moon is ugly and boring and depressing.]

Okay.

[A tiny, tiny smile. The gleam spreads across the entirety of her iris. She can tell, she can just tell that he wants to kiss her more. The yearning in her feels just crazy. Wonderful. He hasn't turned away from her, and for that, right now, he deserves everything.]

I'd like that a lot.

[She squeezes his hand, maybe too hard, as if to reassure herself that this has really happened. For the first time in fourteen years she doesn't feel so much like a freak. If he could say she was beautiful, then maybe someday she could feel as if she was.]

[Asuka is squeezing his hand too hard. Probably hard enough to leave a bruise. Wildly, out of nowhere, Shinji wants to confess something dire to her: he has the ability to heal really quickly, too. He wants to tell her about how he doesn't need to eat or drink or sleep anymore. He wants to tell her about how he's terrified of losing the last shreds of his humanity to whatever's happening to him.

She's smiling, though. She's squeezing his hand, and she's smiling at him. He won't say anything to ruin that. He won't make this about him and his inner pain. As ever, he's a selfish prick, but he won't ruin her happiness today.]

While you're here, you can... [He fidgets, all pink in the face. The glow of her eye is so captivating.] If you want, you can try on this, uhm... I made a dress. Using your measurements from before. So I guess it's a dress meant for you. But I don't know if it's any good, and, well... [A quiet sigh, then.] Do you want to see it?

You made me a dress?

[If he's pink in the face, she's positively red. Her eye feels so hot that she can't help but rub it. It only gets rid of some of the glow. He's made her something else, without a ball or a birthday or anything special. Just because he wanted to. Asuka's never had anyone but Shinji make something for her. Never.]

Of course I want to see it. [It's almost enough to merit another kiss, but then she forces herself to quit that. She hasn't even seen it yet, after all. But if it's anything like that yukata, so carefully stitched, so delicate... Her cheeks are starting to hurt from smiling, and she impulsively tosses a swatch of fabric at him.] You thought I'd say no? Show me.

Mm... [Shinji nods tentatively, but he already regrets bringing it up. He should have spent more time practicing, iterating on the idea of a dress. If she hates it-- If she hates it, he can abandon sewing as a hobby, that's for sure. It might even be a relief to go back to staring at the wall and not doing anything all day. It's the thought that counts, he thinks, brushing off the swatch and getting up from the bed. Or maybe that's what people tell themselves when they know they suck.

Inside Shinji's locker, carefully stored on a hanger at the back, is the dress he made for Asuka. It's designed to be a sundress--not a good look for the polluted moon, but hopefully the Fleet will be going somewhere with clear skies and sunshine. It's patterned with various overlapping sunflowers, so it's mostly white and yellow, more pastel than intense. He couldn't decide if the fabric is elegant or childish.

He cringes visibly, just holding out the dress and inspecting it now. So many little flaws. Too many. And the cut probably reveals too much skin for someone who used to wear her plugsuit religiously.]

If you like the fabric, I can try to make something better than this.

Edited 2016-06-06 00:21 (UTC)

[Asuka's eyes, both of them, are wide, heart pounding. He's been practicing hard. The pattern for a sundress is a lot different from a yukata. He's had to be more precise with all his measurements, careful sewing it all together-- and it's so pretty, soft and airy. It's the first really patterned piece of clothing she's gotten. Asuka likes yellow. People have said it looks good on her, which used to make her contrarily choose red every chance she got when she was younger. Shinji's noticed it looks good on her.]

[She gets off the bed, shaking her head quickly, reaching to grab the dress. Just like before, with the yukata, she doesn't know what to say. Just him deciding to make something for her means so much to her. That it's lovely and delicate, too-- she's spoiled. She's just spoiled.]

Don't do that. I like this. [She runs a finger down one edge, mesmerized. His stitches are so straight, so impressively small. He's put so much effort into this. Her heart feels like it might explode.] You didn't have to. I don't have anything for you.

[Now that his hands are empty, Shinji doesn't know what to do with them. He just deposits them in the pockets of his pants, one after another, a bit hesitant. He would seem casual if not for the way he's radiating intense nervousness. The scrutiny is always the hardest part to deal with. The amount of time he spent on the dress is meaningless if Asuka doesn't like it. But...]

You like this? Seriously?

[But she seems to like it a lot, if the shine of her uncovered eye is any indication. He only sees the mistakes when he looks at the fabric and what he's done with it. She's seeing the craftsmanship, the dedication, the passion, the fundamental need to be recognized and praised for it. More than anything else in the world, he wants to be told that he's done a good job. She has the power to ensnare his heart forever by being nice to him.]

It's not much of a gift if I'm expecting stuff in return... [If she wore the dress, even for a minute, that would be a gift in its own right. Each and every stitch he made is something intimate, like a touch or a kiss.] Try it on? I want to see if it fits okay or not.

Yeah. I do. [As if it needs to be said. The light in her eyes is all the answer he really needs. Right now, she's wearing one of his earlier picks for her, back at the clothing boutique. Sometimes she thinks the girly dresses and skirts go poorly with her patched eye, but her self-consciousness evaporates in the face of his fondness.]

[Blush heavy, still running one hand down the skirt, she makes a demand that wouldn't have been uncharacteristic all these years ago, pointing at him.] Okay, out. [And then a pause.] Or can I trust you not to peek?

[Shinji blinks a few times, wide-eyed and owlish for it.] Peek? [His face is a splash of pink, and then he's spluttering:] W-Why would I do that? What kind of guy do you think I am...?! [Besides, he has already seen all that Asuka's body has to offer. She's the one who ran screaming out of the bathroom without a towel on...

Maybe he does want to peek, though. Just a little bit of a look.

He grumbles to himself and turns around, staring at the wall stubbornly. It isn't until he hears the rustle of fabric that he's really tempted to be a pervert. Tilting his head a nonchalant amount, he tries to get a peripheral glimpse of Asuka and how the fabric slides over her skin. Honestly, she'd probably show him more skin if he had the courage to ask for it, but he doesn't want to ask and risk rejection.]

I made some socks, too, if you're... interested in socks.

Edited 2016-06-23 02:09 (UTC)

[She doesn't berate him for the peek, however slight. If she'd really wanted him out, she never would have given him any other option. She's stripped to her bra and panties for all of two or three seconds, tugging on the sundress right after, straightening the straps. The fit's good. Not too loose around the bust or waist, flowing out just a bit. She's surprised he managed so well, as forgiving as the yukata was in comparison. The sundress is shorter than her other clothes, the hem ending about an inch from her fingertips. It's hard to call him a pervert when it's attractive.]

[Asuka doesn't care for mirrors much, tired of seeing her same ugly face. The only thing that's really changed over the years is her expression. So she turns around instead, hands nervous at her side, waiting for his appraisal.]

Does it suit me? [God, how stupid. Even if he looks disappointed by how it looks on, she's not giving it back to him unless it's to adjust something. No way. Then her forehead furrows up in confusion and mild suspicion.] What did you make socks for?

[The truth is, Asuka would look good in a plain paper bag. Shinji doesn't say that--it's cringeworthy in his head, much less spoken out loud. It's true, though. Even when he laments never being able to grow up, he has to admit the bodies they're stuck with aren't the worst ones ever. They'll always be youthful. Limber. Resilient. In Asuka's case, beautiful. He smiles before he really realizes it, looking her up and down.]

It does suit you, [he says quietly.] And it looks like it fits you. It's not too tight? Lift your arms and see if it still feels okay. [He walks over to stand in front of her again. His brings up his hands, and they hover awkwardly for a moment, before he decides to brush a wrinkle out of the fabric. He may or may not be glancing at her bustline.]

Oh, I made socks because I had some leftover fabric... and my feet get cold in here, so I wanted more socks. Do you want any socks? I've got yellow ones, and black ones, and I could part with the white ones, I guess.

Edited 2016-06-23 04:28 (UTC)

[She raises her arms as requested. It's not too tight at all. It's silly, to feel exposed by a sundress, but she can't help herself. When she was really fourteen, she'd worn miniskirts shorter than this without a care... and Shinji hadn't ever looked quite this happy when he saw her in them. So it's okay.]

Yeah, it's good. [The socks still strike her as a bit suspect. If he's not careful, he'll create his own cottage industry here in his room. Asuka meets his eyes, discovering wryly that his own aren't on her face, and swats his hand in a vague reprimand.] I'll take the yellow ones.

Heron May mingle

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