losthunter | Sleepovers with Someone to Cling to ((Verity))

Entry tags:

rp scene,
verity

Sleepovers with Someone to Cling to ((Verity))

It has been a quiet week for Hunter. One of the advantages of the quiet is the fact that Hunter has had lots of time to work on his artwork. (Perhaps a little bit too much time, in all reality).

So receiving a message from Verity was a good thing, all things considered. Hunter really had wanted to speak to her, about some small things going on in his life. And just have a fun night with a great friend. So they had decided to have a good-ol' fashioned sleepover.

Knowing that Verity was going to stay the night -- and having no qualms with sharing his bed with his good friend -- Hunter had made sure to bring out his best rose-themed sheets for the King-sized bed.

He also raided the closest convenience store to stock up on a few snack goodies for the evening. But of course, for the wine selection of the evening, Hunter went to one of his favourite stores. There he also picked up some cheese selections of the evening.

Almost was ready for Verity to arrive. Hunter's apartment is very open concept. The kitchen, dining room and living room are all visible from the doorway. Of course, his art studio is a little more tucked away -- close to the balcony, and where Hunter grows his roses.

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It's a delicate situation and hard to judge, but Ver thinks that sometimes it's best to not treat the dead like venerated saints. His mother was a person, and would have had opinions about things. But if it upsets Hunter, she'll stop. "Oh, she should be happy with that then."

Verity follows him into the garden and lets her hand slide down his arm to settle in his while they enjoy the flowers. "I love roses." Given her hair color and rose-based perfume, it shouldn't be any surprise. "Do you know what kinds they are?"

Hunter does feel closer to his mother, just by the painting being there. But he is still 'getting to know her' and the role she plays in his life. So eventually he will be comfortable with playful or flirty replies. Right now, he is content to think that his mother is there to watch over his dreams.

"Most of the roses are American Beauty's," He answers her. With her arm on his, Hunter is still able to use his free hand to pick out a soft peach rose for Verity.

"But I also have a few Ann's Beautiful Daughter, Belinda's Dream and Carefree Beauty varieties. There are also a few crossbred roses."

That's fair, and she wouldn't want to intrude on that. She's just glad her idea has worked out so well. But she won't let it go to her head and start thinking she might know something about this 'feelings' business.

She leans forward to examine the rose, taking in its perfume and brushing a fingertip over the petals. "They're lovely. And they must like you to bloom so nicely." And out of season... she does wonder about that. "I can see why you like it out here so much."

"I do talk to them. And sometimes, when the mood strikes, I sing too." Hunter replies softly. Almost all of his gardening products are all natural too.

"You sing to them? Lucky plants." Verity can see he takes very good care of them, from what she understands of plants. Which is, admittedly, very little. "Do you wanna sit out here a while? Or should we keep troubling talk from little ears?"

"I am sure that a lucky young lady could get her own song." Hunter kisses the top of her head.

"Troubling talk is not recommended for the roses. But I have plenty of spots where we can get into serious thoughts."

"There is a hot tub..." He gestures to the other side of the balcony.

Ver hums at that thought, quite pleased. She would like that very much.

"There is a hot tub," she agrees, "and if I'd known I would have brought a swim suit. Which I'll know to do next time. But I can sit and keep you company if you want to relax in it a while."

"I wouldn't want to sit in it alone, when there are things on your mind. If you change your mind, you could borrow a pair of my swim trucks. I promise not to peek too much..." Hunter winks, playfully covering his hand, but peeking through two of his fingers.

"How about wine by the fireplace?"

Verity rolls her eyes at the promise and the playacting, but she's smiling all the while. "Just enough, right?"

"That sounds perfect." It'll be a good spot to cuddle and talk. "You get the wine ready, I've got a few things to put in the fridge for later." She is so bossy.

"I am an artist and do appreciate the human body, in any form it presents." Hunter chuckles lightly.

"Mmmm I do love good, solid directions." Hunter playfully responds to her bossiness. He takes her back to the kitchen, so she can unpack her supplies. Before grabbing the wine, Hunter is going to use his muscles to a slight advantage, moving the bigger two-person chair into the bedroom, by the fire. The two smaller chairs are set against the wall.

Then he gets the wine and two glasses.

"Oh, well, that's different." Maybe. She'll see.

"I knew you liked me for a reason." It won't take her long to unpack the basket and put some things in the fridge. He gets a look when he picks up the big chair, but if it looks like he's got it she'll help out by making sure the doors are open for him.

While he gets the wine she asks, "You want anything to eat with that?" Between the two of them, there should be plenty of options.

"A little bit of cheese and crackers would be great right now." Hunter sets a little side table by the chair, so they have a place to set down their snacks.

"Sure thing." That's quick and easy. She brought a nice gouda and some herbed chevre. A little of each, some crackers, some figs cut into quarters, and a little mound of pâté. Technically more than asked for, but options are nice. And she has a feeling they'll be having a late dinner since they've got so much to talk about.

He isn't waiting for her long before she's ready to join him in Cuddlesville. Only thing left to do is take off her shoes and get comfy. Which she does with an arm stretched across the back of the chair to invite him in for comfort.

Hunter slides in beside her, immediately shifting to wrap his arms around Verity and pull her to him.

"What is weighing on your mind, Verity?" He gets right to starting the conversation that they both need to have.

She blinks in surprise; she'd thought he'd go first. But okay. She'll adjust and curl up against him with her head on his shoulder and her arms snug around him. "I'm not good at playing nurse. I ended up with a half-dead man in my bed who needed a bullet removed from his lung and around-the-clock care and I'm kind of exhausted. The fact he doesn't like magic and doesn't like me touching him didn't help."

And that's just the tip of the iceberg.

Hunter is just that type of person. She should know, since she is much the same when it comes to wanting happiness for their friends.

After listening to the initial confession, Hunter was quiet for a moment. "Do you have feelings for him, in some fashion?"

Yes, she knows the impulse. She also knows a delaying tactic when she sees one. But he wins this round.

She doesn't answer immediately, which is a kind of an answer. Eventually, she admits, "Not the way he wants."

Hunter kisses the top of her head, and hugs her even tighter. "I'm so sorry Verity. I know how much that can hurt."

"Are you concerned that he might leave, because of what happened?"

How does he always know exactly what's bothering her? It's uncanny. Ver sighs and gives a bit of a shrug. "He's always wanted to go home. I know that, and I don't blame him. He's got people who're probably wondering where he is. I just."

She hesitates to finish, and when she does, it's almost too quiet to hear. "I'm so tired of losing people."

It is because the same things bother him. Hunter hasn't lost as much as Verity, but he has still lost a few important people.

So right now, Hunter runs one hand through her hair, as he holds her close to his chest.

"The hardest things is letting go..." His voice is soft. "But you do. You let go because you love them, and you want them to find their happiness."

"And all the best you can hope for is that they will come back, because they missed you. Even when in your heart, you know the chances are low."

She used to be so closed off to the world. It's strange for her, being seen so clearly. The girl who's raged against a lack of transparency doesn't always like having the shoe on the other foot.

"I know it's selfish of me to want him to stay. I want him to be happy, and I know he can't be happy until he gets home." But sometimes she wishes she got to be the selfish one. Just a little. Life is long and lonely and she wants, needs, something to fill it.

"He says he'll come back. And he means it, for now. But I don't see why he would."

"I know that feeling very well." Hunter sympathizes with her. He doesn't think she is being selfish either. Everyone deserves to have happiness in their life -- and he wants the same for Verity.

He just wishes he could do something for her.

"I am sure you are important to him, Verity. If he said he will come back... I am sure he will do everything he can to keep that promise."

Hunter's doing plenty. He's providing a much-needed emotional outlet for her. He's empathizing without patronizing. And he's helping her remember that it's okay to want to touch people, that she isn't bad or dirty or unworthy.

"Do men usually visit the women who've broken their hearts?" Her tone suggests how much she doubts it.

"If I could visit Lindy... I would." Hunter notes lightly. "And our situation broke my heart."

"She still has a special place in my heart, in my past, and whom I am. I could never put her out of my mind."

"But I might not think the same as other men. I couldn't speak for your friend, except to say that he sounds genuine."

"Why can't you visit Lindy?" There are such holes in her understanding of his history. But they both still have so much to learn about each other. She'll leave off the part about how it's not quite the same thing to realize he's the one not in that kind of love.

"I'm not sure Han would take it as a compliment to be told he sounds genuine," she admits with a fond sigh. What is it about rogues that she loves so much? It's so counter-intuitive. "He's a better man than he thinks he is."

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