stuff us in boxes that's where you want us

cardboard is boring, we brought our matches - look how it burns

Dorian lit up at being called open-minded. Really, she hardly understood why. "Don't mention it." She replied simply. His focus averted toward his own sketchbook with the request that she speak of herself. There was no way to stop the seeping dread that overcame her. Something she forcibly overcame, to a degree. The woman almost turning it into a game fused with clear sarcasm even despite the truth behind each statement she revealed. What was the harm in it? She hated this kind of form of conversing, it felt so unnatural and yet she hated it less when it was lighthearted as she let it become. She didn't expect him to reveal that he only asked because it gave him more insight to her aura. Oh great. This brought a clear frown to her features. She hadn't said all that much... had she? Not enough to cause her aura to reveal itself completely, right? The hussy. Acting like it wanted someone to see her, to notice that she was more than the mask she created for herself. She really needed to learn this whole shutting up thing. She was getting better, really... although it couldn't be helped that it struck at inopportune moments. That revelation earned her a chuckle which only caused her to frown more. He claimed that her words had no effect on her aura, it was merely just a better way to translate her soul. She kind of disliked she gave a virtual stranger the code to decipher her cryptogram soul. She might as well flashed him with her deepest darkest thoughts. But who knows. Maybe silver eyes saw that too.

"Makes sense." She grumped. Maybe it worried her less that he could just see her plainly and more of what he saw. She knew herself yes, but how those shadows crept in and settled for too long. The shit she saw, what she had to experience, the choices she had to make. It was all enough for even the most confident to wonder what kind of mark had been eroded away into her.

Harley easily met his silver eyes as if she tried to read into him as he did so to her. Which was foolhardy, it was clear that this ability of his only worked one way. Her abilities, natural and otherwise did not offer her that level of understanding. No, she had to work the hard way and instinct to unearth the truth of people. She was only gifted with the ability to read between the lines. The ability to tell when she was being lied to. The ability to look almost anyone in the eye without fear. But the most unnerving thing about Dorian was just how sweetly calm he seemed. Like he was almost TOO content. How did anyone know that level of peace? One thing for certain was she was done talking. Well, done talking about herself at least. That was exactly when she turned that question onto him. She might not be able to read his soul, but she was fairly good at reading people. Needless to say, she took no shortage of pleasure from the surprise that flashed across his own features. Did people not ask him questions? How perfectly oblivious she was to her own social faux pas... not that it would stop her even if she did.

His reply to her first question was hardly revealing in any sense, but she couldn't say that surprised her. But it was the second question about freedom, now that must have struck a chord. It seemed to register in a way the other did not. His reply showing honesty that he hadn't offered her before. Showing a piece of himself that existed deeper than his love for flowers and all things beautiful. It was that very honesty that, even if she did not state it out loud, in fact it was kind of annoying that it endeared her to him.

While the pair could not be any more different, it didn't mean that they couldn't find some simple, temporary connection, even in this. Harley could sense the heaviness in the weight of his words, despite his pleasant face. How she was the last person to judge him for that honest truth and that wonder what it would be like if he possessed the freedom to do so. It was then that she replied, offering him a semblance of encouragement.. that today he did kind of showed a level of boldness.. at least to his own standards. This earned her a chuckle of amusement. That laugh so vastly different than his father. Dorian seemed to smile at her words. Good. She didn't exactly want her question to make him feel... worse.

Even though he was trapped inside a cage of his own, he still found it within himself to be bold. After all, he stepped into that tattoo shop. That was an act of boldness, was it not? There was plenty of people that were fearful to even look inside, much to her delight. Sure, he only walked in because he saw a picture of a flower he liked.... But that was besides the point. He seemed to agree and his soft, content demeanour returned. Harley hoped he never lost that. Why, she couldn't understand. He was still a stranger. Dorian then claimed that he looked forward telling his husband about his experience today. She arched a brow skyward in question. What was that even like? To have someone to share your day with. She pushed the thought from her mind, stubbornly avoiding any topic that might make her more aware of her own lonely but no less amusing existence. She directed that focus back to the mention of speaking of his husband. " Can't say I am not at least a little curious how that conversation would go. " She almost laughed at the thought of being mentioned. What the hell would he even say? Maybe he would lead with the flower.

Dorian then concentrated upon his work a little longer before his finger brushed the page softly, the act of it drew her attention while she sipped away at her own coffee. What she had not expected was for that page to bloom in colour that erupted across the page. She couldn't see much from where she sat but she could see that. She could practically feel the magic in the air and prickle down the back of her neck along the spine like a whisper, just like it always did..

The Fae king called on his affinity so effortlessly. How when she looked at his sketch book, she thought he had drawn in the colours. She regretted not looking closer at those auras now that she knew magic was involved. It was at that moment that she realized that she practically gawked at him. Magic, in all its forms, despite how sarcastic or stand offish she could be, tugged upon her curiosity and oh that curiosity was rooted deeply. It always was. Even if countless times that curiosity turned into something unpalatable. This was different though.

When Dorian's attention found her again, she was hardly prepared for what he said, as he shared a knowledge he had possessed from her. She stared at him, wonder how he managed to cut deeper than any person ever had. Even though she didn't quite question his ability with her inherent cynicism, she hadn't quite been prepared to see it used against her, let alone hear it. He spoke about her aura with a clear simplicity, even kindness that few people have ever shown her. It was startling. It always was. That mention that she was a good person, despite all she had experienced caused those words to repeat in her mind. She could not help that very hint of a lump that seemed to settle in her throat, one she swallowed back immediately with a firm fortitude. Why did this seem to move her when most else didn't? Not with the level of walls she had built. Was this what people felt when she made a realization of someone that they hadn't noticed about themselves? She didn't like peeking out behind the cracks of the walls she set.

That question if he had seen anything weird slipped free as she couldn't help it. Couldn't help that maybe that question came out of a place of rare vulnerability that didn't let show. He could see all the facets of her soul. Surely he could tell if he saw something unusual. Could he see the damage of her past? Her ability to keep the world away at large? That she felt like nothing more than a bull in an itty bitty china shop of life? Those vivacious violet eyes bore into Dorian who seemed to not quite understand her question. He simply claimed that no soul was completely alike. But she did possess an anomaly. There it was. She froze as the gorilla sized anomaly rose its ugly head.

"Oh. What do you mean by an anomaly?" She urged her voice to remain certain and only mildly interested. That desire to be a smartass was there and yet overridden by that sudden desire to know. The raven-haired woman watched as his finger gently traced somewhere upon his drawing with a gentleness. But it was his frown that troubled her most. Was it that bad? Fuck. Maybe she shouldn't have asked. But when did Harley balk when things got difficult?

But the moment he spoke, that lump in her throat was back. That stupid annoying little thing that hadn't surfaced in how many countless years? It was then that he mentioned her loss and how it was like she believed she was not meant to be happy. Well if that didn't work in silencing her. That room was beginning to feel too small.. like somehow the restrictive ties of her life were tightening even though it was all in her head.

"Not meant to be happy? Hm. That sounds a little self loathey, even for me." But even she had admit she was losing hope that it even existed for someone like her. Really, it could be worse.

Somewhere... along the line she took the wrong turn in life. One mistake and it was like a domino effect and she was stuck on a highway, full speed, waiting for an exit that failed to appear. "Some people just get dealt a really shitty hand, that's really all there is to it." She didn't buy into the idea that her suffering or loss meant anything more than she had just been dealt a really bad hand.... And every hand after seemed to follow suit. Why would it suddenly change? How she still strove to carve out something for herself even despite it, determined to find a way off that highway even if she had to make it herself. How she wanted to spread her metaphorical wings and bitch slap, karate punch the motherfuckers that tried to clip them and pin them down.. If only it was enough to make an impact.

That mood shifted and she refused to let it linger. She was not a wallower... okay.. most of the time she was not wallower. The only being in the world that had seen her wallow was her dog and that was a pitiful sight. It was then that Dorian offered her to take a look of that drawing that she eagerly took. In an instant she all but launched herself off the surface she had been perched upon, landing on her feet in such a way that alluded that she was something more than human. She was content to abandon her coffee to see what the fae king had put time into. A much-needed distraction that made her feel more like herself.

But as she drew across that room to look at that drawing... she couldn't help the way she seemed in awe by it. It was one thing looking at a reflection in a mirror and it was another to see a drawing of you. To see how someone sees you translated onto a page. This was different than anything else. It was undeniably her... it even matched what she imagined her smirk looked like but it was another thing to see it looking back at her. Her gaze sliced up to eye Dorian and she had a wicked grin on her face. He made her look smoking hot!! Oh wow, she wished she had a camera to capture that blush that rose to his cheeks as she said those words. How she never thought his cheeks could get that colour. It only made her smile more.

He then claimed that he was pleased she liked it and admitted she was pleasing to the eye. She kind of loved how he spoke. That was a polite way to say he found her smoking hot, even though she was certain he would never say those words ever. "Its okay to say it. Smoking hot... Your secret is safe with me." Oh those words were intentional, that smile turned into a wicked. How she hoped she could keep that flush to his cheeks for even a little while longer. "Dorian, you ok? Your cheeks are a little red. The caffeine from the tea maybe?" Okay, maybe she was putting it on real thick but she was damn well enjoying the reaction while it lasted.

However, much to her own disappointment, the moment didn't last nearly as long as she wanted. Dorian asked if she had questions about those colours. She had to admit she was mesmerized by the vivid hues that had danced across the paper. She did have questions. So many questions. She had no idea what those colours actually meant. The red, the grey, the gold in particular caught her eye the most. He claimed that the red could be anger and love, but those could not be any more opposite of one another. She was unsurprised they were under the umbrella of passion. She would accept that. She was deeply passionate, that was a nice way to put it. But the gold... it practically shimmered beautifully on that page. That confused her most of all. And then the grey... he admitted was her uncertainty... Uncertain how? She knew exactly what she felt at any given moment. Maybe she was uncertain if this was her life? If this was how she was doomed to spend her last moments as some vampire's stupid fucking pet. Maybe her wants didn't align with her life and that was the uncertainty. Harley wanted more than just these chains. She just wanted to be free... she hardly wanted something so elaborate or grandiose. She just wanted to simple be. It didn't even matter where.. As long as it was well and clear from Sacro and anything else that wanted to mess with her.

"Of all the things, who knew I would sparkle gold. I didn't think it was my colour." She couldn't help the sound of amusement that left her lips. She tasted her lips idly as a question surfaced within her mind. "Dorian? How come you haven't drawn your own portrait and aura?" Now that was curious. Of all the people within his sketchbook, how come he was not one of them. It wasn't odd for artists to draw themselves.

Although, of course she couldn't help but wonder, seeing as magic was involved in created this aura on the page.. Did that mean some part of her aura was trapped on that page now... Okay, maybe she was a little morbid with her cynical sometimes. The look of horror upon his face said everything she needed to know. She couldn't help the real laugh that escaped her from it. But then... the caveat at the end that made her cut herself off. Something.... The way he said it struck a chord.

"Hold the phone D-man... what does that mean? You mean you could trap an aura if you wanted to??" She nearly gaped at him. Or was he just messing with her? Did that mean he was.... Joking?

A near sheepish look crossed his features making look more and more like his dad. It was uncanny. Just a drawing he promised as she nodded.. before he caught her off guard about he being allowed to keep that drawing. There was no way she was going to say no to that.

"Hell yes, I want it." She spoke with utmost confidence. "I have never been gifted anything this level of awesome before.. I think I will cherish it." He then spurred on that question if she wanted to know something. Damn right, of course she did. Especially with the incredibly vague way he said it.. That and the vibe at that moment almost made it feel like they were friends. Her gaze caught his own inquisitively.

Prego means you're welcome in Italian. Harley's eyes widened for a moment before her lips broke out into a grin. Her shoulders shook with quiet laughter. No way. The impish look that drew upon Dorian's face only made it reach her vivacious eyes. It was so tempting to tell him who he looked like right now. "I really thought you called me pregnant.. earlier." That was kind of funny.

"So Dorian... you want to make your day a little bolder?" A hint of challenge flashes in her bright violet eyes, curious if she would be met with reluctance or if the fae king was on a roll.

Harley Westward