Easier Than Love - | Desidero |

[Quinn]

God, her head was absolutely killing her. The familiar pounding was in the back of her head, as she groaned and rolled from her side onto her back, something hard under her neck giving it a rather uncomfortable angle. She groaned again, pushing a hand to her face as she took a deep breath signaling her consciousness, pushing back the red mass of curls hanging around her face. Her fingers massaged her eye lids and she lifted up onto her elbows without much thought. She remembered very little about the afternoon and night before, thought bits and pieces were coming back to her. Desi had been at the Speakeasy last night. Jesus. She opened her eyes, the sight in them a little bleary at first but after a few blinks she could make out the bloody bandage on her hand. She turned her aching neck to the right, her heart nearly stilling as Desi's sleeping form was sprawled out next to her. His arm had been the hard thing that had put the cramp in her neck and found herself being extraordinarily quiet. Her heart now matched the rhythm that her head was pounding out, Desi's face extremely peaceful and open in sleep. She hesitated, wondering how bad it would be to just lay back down and wait for him to wake up with her. But as tempting as it was, she knew it was cruel to do that when she had no intention of staying at all. She was too sober now, back on her guard. The anthro tried to be quiet as possible as she got to her knees, twisting around so that she could crawl over his sleeping body. A soft stuttering in his sleep had her pausing just halfway over, her knees straddling either side of his stomach as she held her breath, her eyes on his face. Her tail! She looked back, the tip of it presumably brushing against his waist. She gritted her teeth and made it move after several moments of trying until it was safely out of the way. She only moved when she felt safe to do so, the train car floor squeaking beneath her weight as it shifted. Now she really needed to move, the sunlight filtering into the holes of the train car with alarming speed. Quinn really did not want to have to deal with an awake Desi, so she hurried, pulling her boots on and making sure she had her boot knife. She shrugged on her jacket, and was about to make herself scarce. She turned around, and was met with one pair of very serious, albeit sleepy, eyes. Desi's face was unreadable as she backed up, nearly stumbling over herself as she let out a squeak, her back coming up against the cold tin. "Jesus. You scared me." She breathed, and he had! "Don't do that." She scolded. Her heart had dropped like a rock into her stomach as soon as she had realized she was not alone anymore. Her hand went to her chest, as she let out another breath, but she wasn't trying to push her way out of here...yet.

[Desidero DeSoto]

He felt something brush against stomach, almost rousing him from his sleep. But he refused to open his eyes, content to just lay there and keep sleeping, sure that last night had been a dream. He heard Quinn shuffling, vainly hoping that she was just exploring her old room, reliving memories, making herself at home. But as much as he hoped that she'd chosen to stay, he knew it wasn't true. He knew she'd try to run away, like she had before too afraid of getting closer to him. He sighed softly, blowing out through his nostrils and slowly. Oh, he just wanted to drag her back into the bed and go back to sleep and pretend like this wasn't happening. He could go back to his dream world in which he woke up and Quinn was still in his arms. He didn't want to face this, not now. He just wanted to be happy, he wanted to be proven wrong and find that when he opened his eyes she wasn't fleeing for her life out the door. He cracked one eye open and watched her as she pulled on her boots, begrudgingly accepting the sinking feeling in his chest as he watched her getting ready to walk out of his life again. So this is what it felt like, hm? To wake up and find the man you'd fallen asleep with gone--or worse yet, walking out on you. He'd done it a hundred times to the women he'd slept with. But the roles had been reversed and damned it if it hurt like hell. He could understand why she was sneaking out, god knows he wanted to avoid another of their heart-felt confrontations that usually ended with her boot-prints all over his heart. It had only been a few moments since he'd woken, but it felt like forever waiting to see if she would turn around. He had to resist the urge to laugh when she finally turned around and nearly leapt out of her skin at the sight of him awake. "Jesus! you scared me. Don't do that." He managed to keep his face straight, though it wasn't hard. She was getting under his skin, this flighty little woman that'd somehow managed to capture his heart. "Do what, exactly, Quinnybuns? Wake up?" he said, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice. "I have a bad habit of doin that. A coupla Keeper's tried to break me of it, but yanno. Old habits die hard I guess." He shook his head, rising to his knees so he was level with her but still on the bed. "I guess you don't remember what happened last night," he said, narrowing his eyes. "Then again it probably wouldn't make much difference if you did," he said with a half-smile, though regretted it as soon as he'd said it. "Old habits, huh." he said with a shrug and a wide grin, and he felt himself on the verge of laughter. He'd been a damned idiot to think she'd even consider staying. But hell, he'd come this far. He'd kissed her, after all this time, finally kissed the woman he'd tried to give up loving for months...and he'd be damned if he'd let her get away again. "Why are you leaving, Quinn?" he said, his expression serious, troubled. "You'd be happier here. This...this is your home, and you know it." He said, though left it vague as to what exactly he meant. He meant that she would be happier with him, and that he could be her home (in some weird metaphoric...thing). Jesus he was terrible at this touchy-feely bullshit, but hell if he wouldn't try anything to keep her in the train-car for even just a moment longer. ooc | ohhh my god its terrible please excuse this post

[Quinn]

He had scared her, even if he really had not meant to. Not that he apologized for it. She leaned down to fix her jeans over her boots, otherwise the fabric would irritate her all the way back to the studio. She tried to brush off her small fright as he spoke to her, the tone in his voice pretty unfamiliar. Had he ever sounded like that before, even when he'd woken from sleep? Hm. There was a twitch of confusion over it for a moment, but she brushed hair away from her face and straightened up again. Quinnybuns? What the hell did he call her? She took a mental step back, losing the rest of his words for a moment. "What the hell did you call me?" She asked, meeting his eyes with a startled expression. It wasn't a bad nickname, and she'd heard it before in passing but never had actually asked him about it. Her lips tightened as he mentioned the keepers and a passing of death. He didn't know how much that idea bothered her, because as much as she didn't want to admit it to him or anyone...he was under her skin. The idea that he didn't exist, or had been murdered? It made her fists tighten at her sides. "Shut up, you're not funny." She grumbled, shifting her weight and listening to the car creak. She whipped her head away to look for her jacket which was crumpled near the bed, indicating that she had fought it off of her sometime last night. She stalked over, keeping her eyes off of him as she snatched it up. He sounded angry, and snarkier than she had ever heard him. "I remember enough." She muttered, though she imagined the pounding in her head was some indication that she'd had enough alcohol to have some of the rest of it fuzzed. And he was right, it didn't matter. "Old habits." Quinn agreed dryly, mimicking him. She pulled the jacket on, being careful with that injured hand and pulling her hair from the collar. She could remember his lips against hers, her traitorous tail wagging like some love sick puppy. Her lips trembled at the memory, and she looked down, wiping her nose on her sleeve. She gave the train car a lingering look as he mentioned that it could be, was, her home. "And do what? Play house with you and the Fallen?" She asked, her voice picking up that same tone. "I'm better off alone." She said, though it sounded weak. "It's safer for everyone involved." She implied. Quinn gave a roll of her shoulders, trying to ignore the weak ache starting up in her chest. She wasn't very good at expressing her feelings, especially with a hangover from hell itself. The 'house' seemed to shake as she stalked off, going for the door. She pried at the rusted old door, surprised it hadn't cut anyone and given them a nasty infection. She could feel it in the pit of her stomach that she wasn't going to sleep for weeks after this, nursing her feelings on a bottle of vodka, and trying to rebuild those barriers he'd crushed last night. She hesitated a the door, the light dimmer than she had imagined, canvased by rain clouds. "See you around, Desoto." She said, hopping off the ledge and onto the tracks. She didn't realize how dejected her voice sounded, even to herself.

[Desidero DeSoto]

He grinned when she balked at the nickname he'd given her, he shook his head. "Quinnybuns. Better 'n sweet-cheeks, innit?" he said. "Its a term of ah, what d'ya call it? Endearment." he was smiling again, and he couldn't get it straight in his head how he wanted to feel, how he should feel, what the hell he should say. He never knew what would scare her off, though he supposed any form of emotional plea on his part would be effectively lost on her, seeing as she was sober. The only time he'd been able to get through to her had been when they'd both been pretty drunk; the one other time he'd tried, she'd sent him packing with a broken heart. "And do what? Play house with you and the Fallen? I'm better off alone. It's safer for everyone involved." She said, but he could tell in her voice that she wasn't as resolute as before. "No, not everyone. It's safer for you, so you don't gotta risk gettin hurt," he said, sighing."And that ain't no kinda life." he muttered, more to himself than her. He knew something was different, and he thought maybe...maybe he'd gotten through to her after all. Shown her that there could be peace with him, at least of some sort. But then she was at the door, prying it open, saying goodbye again. Walking away like she always did, leaving him to wonder what the hell he'd done wrong like the sad little puppy he'd tried so hard not to become. His heart slammed in his chest and he was on his feet in a second, though he got wrapped up in the sheets. He struggled angrily with the damned thing trying to untangle himself when he heard the clatter of metal as something fell to the floor. He peered over the edge of the bed and found a pair of handcuffs laying on the ground, as if sent from God himself. It was a dumb idea, but he was desperate. It was sad really, but as he scrambled out of bed and grabbed the handcuffs in one swift move as he bolted out the door and stumbled after her. She'd barely made it down the steps, and he tripped down the steps after her. Sooo smooth, he thought with a wince. "Quinn, wait!" he called, though he didn't wait for her to stop or turn around. He reached for the arm swinging behind her, drew back the sleeve of her jacket and slapped one end of the handcuffs around her wrist and cinched it shut, quickly affixing the other side to his own wrist. "Yea, stay and play house. With me," he said with a nervous grin, triumphantly holding up his wrist, and hers. "And this time I ain't gonna be the dog." ooc: ahaha Desi

[Quinn]

"I guess, considering every girl is sweet cheeks to you innit." She grumbled, and though she wouldn't admit it...she was almost pleased to have her own nickname from him. Maybe. Her gaze narrowed as he figured her out almost right away and that was scary. Usually it was easy to keep people away, that they didn't always know what was going on upstairs. She jumped off the bottom step with this in her thoughts. He was so stupid, and he didn't know anything. Or at least that was what she was telling herself. But as she got to the dirt, she could hear commotion behind her and it took all she could do not to cringe as he called her name. The next thing she knew, she was pulled to a stop, a familiar clicking in her ears and a pressure on her wrist, then another clicking zip. Her wrist was pulled back, and she turned around, realizing what was happening but unable to stop it. His words were taunting, as he held up his handy work and dragging her own wrist with it. She glared at him, yanking her hand down. "Desoto!" She practically growled, automatically fighting the metal on her wrist. It caused her hand to throb, bleeding renewed under the bandage. This was just like the time she'd been arrested, but then she'd been handcuffed to a metal chair in a holding cell. "I'm going to murder you!" She said, shoving him even though that only dragged her with him. The key is at the studio!"" She hissed, and then she mentally cursed because now he knew where she was staying. She gave the cuffs a rattle, trying to pull him behind."Come on, let's go get them...now." Because being attached to the man of her affections and having to actually deal with her feelings was certainly not appealing at the moment. The heavens seemed to decide that that moment was a good one to send a downpour, a loud roll of thunder signaling the change before the bottom fell out. This idea of being attached to Desi all day was certainly the most frightening thing that her mind could have cooked up. There was no way he was going to just leave her alone or take her back to the studio to get free. He'd want to talk about feelings, and she really couldn't handle that. She shoved past him, not that she got very far, and going back inside before she ruined her clothes. The sheets were in a tangle in the floor, and Quinn gave another shake of her wrist, the feeling of his weight unsettling."You." She said, glaring at him. "Stay away from me." She told him angrily, unable to even cross her arms over her chest to show him just how cross she was at him. "What the hell is your problem?" She asked, shaking her head. "Why can't you just let go?" She asked, wanting a real answer. "I've pushed you away time and time again and you still come after me, and I don't get it. You can't fix me.." She ranted.

[Desidero DeSoto]

Desidero knew he was pushing his luck, and was having second thoughts about this idea. He might've very well just chained himself to a woman who would sooner strangle him with the cuffs than look at him. All he could do was grin sheepishly at her as she yelled and hollered about how angry she was and oh boy, here came the death threats. "Murder? Well I s'pose it's all fun and games till you realize you'd have to drag my dead body around all day," he said, barely able to contain his smile. "At least until you found a saw." He managed to pull his expression together and look altogether sobered up, though he pulled back against her when she tried to drag him to the Studio, digging in his heels and giving her the new definition of dead weight. He was prepared to sprawl out on the floor of the desert in protest when the weather decided to play into his favor. Desi nearly danced after her into the train car, happy that this time he couldn't run away from him. He was somewhat hesitant as to what would happen next though, and how much of what he said would get through to her when all she wanted to do was bash his head in. He could feel how mad she was, he could feel it in his bones the way she glared at him. "You. Stay away from me." Well, that helped make it clear, too. He stood next to her quietly, eyeing her from the side like a dog afraid to make direct eye contact. He felt a whine starting in his throat, the air crackling with tension; the storm outside didn't help ease things any. His throat and chest felt tight, and when she finally spoke he nearly jumped out of his skin. "What the hell is your problem? Why can't you just let go? I've pushed you away time and time again and you still come after me, and I don't get it. You can't fix me.." Her voice was trembling with anger, and that old familiar feeling of desperation began to creep up on him. His skin prickled with heat and he felt his chest tightening and tightening until he could hardly stand it. "You don't think I've tried letting you go?" He asked, staring at his feet. "I spent the last few months tryna forget you. I didn't want to hurt you no more, I didn't...I didn't want to get hurt no more either. I thought it was over, that we wasn't meant to be in each others lives," he said, clearing his throat. "But I wasn't the same without you. I just wasn't. And when I saw you at the Speakeasy, I knew...well I knew that I'll be damned if I let you get away again," he said, brows knitting together. He gently threaded his fingers through hers, the cuff chains jangling softly. "I care about you, Quinn. And I'm not trying to fix you, I just...I just wanna be here for you when you need me." He said, stepping closer. He brushed a lock of hair from her face where the rain had plastered it to her cheek. "Why can't you just let me be here for you? Is it that hard, to let me in?" he said, meeting her eyes and half afraid of the answer.

[Quinn]

"Or I could just hack off your hand." She said, thinking of her switchblade. It would take forever, no matter if she tried to pick the lock or actually cut his hand off, though that might teach him a lesson. Her ears folded back, indicating her displeasure. How could he joke about this! Grin at her like an idjit?! Her lips pressed together in a firm line, looking away from her before she wouldn't be able to stop from hitting him. She needed to get away, but there was nothing here that was going to help her. She didn't think he would just have a saw hanging around, and it was likely that he'd take her knife if she brought it out. Her foot tapped the tin, while the rain's fingers did the same. Think, she had to think. But then he was answering her question, and she glanced at him, her eyes full of distrust. He wasn't looking at her, but instead at his feet and she tugged her hand away again out of reaction to his closeness but his arm followed her and she remembered that they were tethered together. His words surprised her, and she wondered if he was serious. Quinn didn't move, couldn't breathe as he kept talking...rambling really. But was he being honest, was he telling her the truth? She scrutinized him, his fingers reaching for hers, capturing hers and lacing them together. Her instincts said to fight, to push and hit him away from her but she lingered, waiting. He took her stillness for acceptance, closing the distance. Her eyes dropped to the floor immediately, his fingers against her cheek as he pushed wet hair away from her face. He was so close, and she could feel her chest tightening in fear and uncertainty. He wanted to be there for her, wanted to know why it was so hard. Memories of her father rose like a tidal wave, her eyes clenching shut and her hand tightening on his. "You don't know nothin about me." She said, pulling away but was stopped by the handcuffs. They forced her to stay, forced her to deal. Her eyes flashed up to his, meeting his and holding it. "My da." She said, her voice starting to tremble, feeling as though she were eight years old again, sixteen again. "Made sure I'd never trust anyone ever again." She tried to pull away, retreating to the bed, but to her surprise, her fingers were still curled in his. "I'm too scared." She admitted, and it was like her world had imploded. Never, ever would she have admitted her fear to anyone, especially Desi. She lifted her free hand to her face, rubbing at her eyes which were becoming glassy with tears. Crying in front of him twice in the span of as many days was not on her list of things to do.

[Desidero DeSoto]

He was surprised when she didn’t pull away from him when he held her hand, and for an instant his heart soared. Before now, before last night, she would’ve torn herself away from him as if his touch was like fire. It had always hurt before, and for months he’d felt worthless, a creature that she could never care for who withered under his very touch. But last night, the kiss...it gave him hope, even the smallest iota that maybe she would stay. He didn’t know why it hurt so much to be without her, didn’t know how she’d burrowed under his skin after he’d been so determined not to let anyone get that close to his heart again. But as he watched her, willing her to stay he realized that even if she pushed him away, hurt him, time and time again he couldn’t leave her side. He’d never cared about someone as much as he cared for Quinn—and this devotion was different, he felt it. It was different than the normal dog-driven instinct to be loyal and devoted that had been drilled into his head since he was a child. It was rooted somewhere deep inside him, this…this unyielding feeling that so many times he’d had to fight back, to strangle into silence. He hadn’t wanted to betray himself, lead himself up to her with his heart on his sleeve like some lamb to the slaughter, not when she’d made it clear she didn’t want him. But the kiss, however drunken, it had stirred something in him and drawn from him a truth he’d been too terrified to face for far too long. He wanted to tell her, wanted to take her up in his arms and tell her so many things and just give her the honest to god’s truth. He glanced up at her, thoughts swirling in his mind and emotions knotting in his chest he was about to speak when she replied, at last. Her words were sharp and grating, almost punishing and he flinched under her gaze. She pulled away again, but her hand remained in his. He waited, expecting her to tell him to leave her, that she didn’t want him, that there was nothing for him here. But the words that slipped from her lips, voice trembling and terrified. His heart sank as she told him, told him what he’d wondered for so long. It was more terrible than he had imagined…ever wanted to imagine. To see the agony in her eyes and hear the pain and sorrow in her voice drove him mad. He felt sick to his stomach, incensed that something so vile had been done to her. He knew the pain, the sickening heartbreak when someone that was supposed to love and care for you turned out to be a monster. Tears pricked in his eyes, and Desidero had to choke back something between a snarl and a sob. It was an agonizing truth, and he would have given his life, the world, hell anything to have spared her from that torture. “Oh Quinn,” he said his own voice tight with emotion, “I’m so sorry.” Her fingers were wrapped tight around his, and he held hers just as tightly, his eyes fixed on her as she wiped at her tears. His own eyes were glassy and he felt his muscles trembling with rage. He wanted to hit something, to punish someone for this, for what she’d suffered. “I know there’s nothing I can say to make the pain go away,” he said, his voice hoarse and raspy. “I know that when people that are supposed to love you and take care of you betray you, nothing and no one ever seems safe again,” he said, struggling to keep his voice level. “But the truth is, I’m scared too,” he said. “I’m scared of losing you,” As he spoke he reached out his other hand and pulled their linked hands to him, pressing his lips to her hand. “I’m scared that I’m not a good enough man for you but I can’t— I can’t just sit here and watch you hurt like this, it’s killing me, and Jesus, I don’t know what to do but be here for you. I can't leave, I won't no matter how hard you push,” he said his voice cracking, words tumbling out in a rush before he could stop them as tears threatened to choke him entirely. “I love you, Quinn,” he said, hardly even realizing he’d said it. He paused for a moment, staring at her almost in shock at everything he’d just said. But it was only a second, a breath, a heartbeat before he spoke again, eyes pricking with tears, voice choked with fear and passion mixed. “I love you.” OOC| SLDKFJSDLF AHHHHH

[Quinn]

She could hear it in his voice, the emotion strangling him just as it was trying to do to her. He was right in some ways, as one never truly forgot being harmed by one that was supposed to love them. Care for them. Parents were never intended to hurt their children, fathers never meant to be the cause for the daughter's nightmares instead of chasing them away with soothing words and a gruff sense of sensitivity. And yet, the idea of him getting emotional with her, over her made her angry. She did not want his pity, didn't want to see that lingering there every time she looked at him. Her tears felt like pinpricks in the corners, and she pushed her palm into them, trying to wipe them away before they could sill over and truly betray her. He tried to reach out, tried to comfort her but she was already trying to pull herself together, to pull her poker face back on again. She wiped her nose against her jacket sleeve, jerking her head up as red hair rippling as she tried to look impassive; like she had not just admitted to being afraid for once in her short life. Moments like this made it hard to think she was just a teenage girl, once mostly normal. The ears on top of her head were slanted back against her hair, as she chewed the inside of her lip. "I don't wantchu to feel sorry fer me." She said, letting her fingers slowly let go of his. She was still holding on, their fingers intertwined but she wasn't trying to crush his bones. She drew her free hand across her cheek, the palm smoothing away any stray liquid, the bandage rough against her skin until her fingers reached into her hair. It don't do any good."" She said. "I put him in the ground, an' I have friends now. He don' scare me." But even after his death it wasn't him that she was afraid of. It was people like him. Cruel and evil people who twisted the world around to make it fit the way they wanted. People opposite of Desi, but it had been so hard for her to believe that he was good. No one was like that. Endlessly cheerful, rebounding time and time again no matter how hard she punched him in the gut, trying to make him hate her, to make him evil so she wouldn't want to be with him. And that thought had her frozen. What kind of monster had she become? To be so afraid of one man, a good one, that she had become her father in trying to make him hate her so she could feel safe and secure in being right? She sucked in a deep breath, the realization hitting her like a ton of bricks. And then his words, still choked with emotion, chipping away at her, trying to free her from all the insecurities she faced. He was scared too, for an entirely different reason. He took her hand with his other one, pulling it up until his lips could brush against her knuckles. Quinn didn't realize it, but she was holding her breath, listening to him as she realized what had been wrong with her all along. And then, everything felt light as a feather as he said the three words she had been the most afraid of hearing. "I love you, Quinn." It was as though her world stopped turning, and she froze, her body standing on end as she tried to process just what had happened. He loved her. It wasn't just some conquest thing, he wasn't trying to bait her into anything, he was fearfully telling her what she hadn't wanted to know. What she had needed to know. She stumbled back half a step, the bed catching her, as she sank down to the edge of it, looking down at the floor of the train car. It was riddled with rust and imperfections but it still held true, it bore their lives. As strange as it sounded, they were a rusty train car floor. Both of them, riddled with imperfections and stains of rust that threatened their very foundation but ultimately...it was still strong. It still held together, despite how unsafe it seemed. She blinked, before looking up at him."Desi...I..." She murmured, struggling to find words. "Okay." She said simply, the word so full of meanings. It didn't seem like it would be, that little four letter word, but there was another word that had only four letters (a word he'd uttered to her first) and so this particular word was a start. A foothold. She gave his fingers a gentle squeeze, realizing that she was shaking a little. "Okay." She whispered, the word so full of hope that it hurt. Her lips turned up into the barest hint of a smile, and this truly was a new beginning. myfavoritepostevarrrrrr.

[Desidero DeSoto]

"Desi...I..." He watched her, willing those few words to come trembling from her lips as he'd so long wanted to hear. He could envision them strolling along the banks of the Oasis, the sunlight dappling on her skin and hair, their hands caught up in each others (and not chained together by force) as they went. She would turn to him, and whisper it in his ear, as light and gentle as the breeze that would skip across the waters. I love you, too. Love made him into a poet, it seemed. But he was worried that his version of poetry wouldn't be enough, even more so when she sank down to the bed, and he slowly lowered himself to sit beside her. "Okay." Desi's heart seemed to stop for a moment, stuck in his chest in confusion as to what it was supposed to do--leap for joy, or sink heavy with disappointment. But as he watched her face light up as she spoke, slowly but surely he couldn't help but laugh. It was a burst of laughter that welled up in his chest and couldn't be stopped, and he felt his face would nearly split with how wide he was smiling. "Well, Okay!" he said, with another laugh, throwing his arms around her in a hug. He held her against him (no doubt against her will in some way or another), but in that moment he didn't care if she punched him in the gut or slapped him or whatever she wanted to do. He just wanted to hold her, and kiss her, and be with her. Sure it hadn't been what he'd expected her to say. And the more he thought about it (in the few moments after) he felt a bit pathetic being so happy over the fact that she hadn't flat out said "No" and told him to get the hell out. some small part of him felt like he should be disappointed, or angry, but after this she could tell him to go to hell and back and he'd still be smiling, because he knew deep down that she cared about him, even if she couldn't forgive herself for it. He knew that she wanted to be with him, at least part of her. And the part of her was enough for him--hell, it always had been even when he hadn't even known if she liked him or not. He realized he was still hugging her, probably crushing her near to death. His laugh had sobered, and he drew back but his arms were still around her. He couldn't help but smile, the tears banished (alright, maybe one fell) as he looked at her. He shook his head and smiled, gently cupping her face in his hands and kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose and finally the faintest brush of his lips against hers. He pulled away, just enough to rest his forehead against hers. "Okay." he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He couldn't think of something to say, for once in his life his mouth was too busy smiling to form any word other than that. He was too busy considering himself perhaps the happiest man on Earth in that strange, unearthly moment where the world didn't come crashing down on him, and felt that for right now, this moment, and maybe the rest of his days, they could be happy.

[Quinn]

She knew what he wanted her to say, what he wanted to hear. But she was afraid again, afraid to move so fast in such a short time. All of this time she had spent pushing him, and her feelings away only to have it all crash down in one night? One morning? He sat beside her, close to her because the cuffs required that they stay close. She drew a hands over her face into her hair and up onto her ears. She couldn't say that she loved him, but she hoped that he would understand that. She had already gone through so much, so quickly and she hoped....prayed he could be patient just a little longer. She looked at him with hopefulness, her smile timid and tentative. He laughed, and she blinked, afraid for a split moment, her face echoing that fear. Was he laughing at her. The shock registered for a moment before his arms captured her in a hug. Her left hand as still attached to his right, twisting her arm about painful for a second. "Ow, ow, ow." She said, until he settled for one arm, nearly crushing her with it. It was funny, considering how lanky he was, she hadn't realized how much strength he had in him. Her arm snaked around him, her fingertips pushing into his back. "Alright, Desoto, alright. Before ya crush my bones." She wheezed out, crushed against him. Her need to focus on her breathing kept her from crying, his hold keeping her together. He drew back finally, smiling at her and she couldn't help but smile too. She felt freer than she ever had, even though she was more restrained than she had ever been. Handcuffed in a giant glass cell. His hands took her face in them, the cuffs clanking as she put her hand over his. Quinn's eyes closed as he kissed her forehead, down to her nose, and finally brushing gently over her lip. A familiar feeling crept over her, bubbling up in her chest as she let out a laugh choked with a sob, his forehead against hers. She gave his cuffed hand a squeeze, nodding as he used her word. Okay. They were going to be okay, and she leaned forward to kiss him one more time. Her eyes were shut, but she could feel him there...and that was all she needed to know. The rain tapped on their roof, her red hair creating a curtain around their faces, her tail giving a little wag on the bed. It was a traitor, letting anyone who saw it know her true feelings. Happy. She was happy.

[Desidero DeSoto]

Her lips were soft and sweet, and with an inward grin he realized he could still taste the liquor on her lips from last night. They were so alike, more than he'd realized at first. He had to swallow another laugh as he heard her tail thump on the bed, almost mirroring his thoughts--they were so alike. Desi broke gently away from the kiss, and couldn't contain the soft laugh that escaped, more of a soft exhale through his nose. He shook his head and fell backwards onto the bed, pulling Quinn with him by their cuffed hands. "Sorry Q," he said with a brazen grin. "You know how you drive me wild," he said, giving her another light, lingering kiss. He wrapped his cuffed arm around behind her neck so they could sprawl comfortably on the mattress. His eyes drifted shut and he drew in a deep breath, free hand coming to rest on his chest as he took it all in. The feel of her warm body tucked against him sent waves of warmth through his own; the gentle sound of her breath, her scent cloying his nostrils, her wild red hair tickling against his neck. They'd both gone quiet--but it was a natural silence, comforting and pleasurable as it cloaked them, with nothing but the gentle tap of rain to interrupt. It was a few minutes before he spoke again, softly. "Quinn," he said, his voice a bit hoarse. "I ain't never felt safer with a person than I do with you." His fingers tangled absently with hers, thumb running along her palm. It was the truth, even though she had easily torn him to emotional shreds more than a few times. But he knew deep down there was a reason he trusted her--he saw himself in her, however slight. "My brother made it hard for me to trust people, once I learned the truth about him," he paused, not knowing if he should go on. Did she even want to hear this? He knew that what he'd gone through was nothing like she'd suffered. How could his struggles ever amount to hers? But he wanted her to know--to know why he was the way he was, bouncing from woman to woman, never staying in one place for long. "He found out I was a shifter when I was a baby. Locked me in a shock collar, and raised me as a dog. I didn't even know I was human 'til I was 16," he said. "Even after I found out, I followed him everywhere. I loved him," he said. "And he used me for things, bad things. Dogfights. Killing people that didn't pay up." he said, his voice dropping to a hoarse whisper. He was ashamed to admit the things he'd done, the blood he'd spilt. "I ain't never felt safe with another person since," Desi paused, turning his head to look at her. "Until I found you, at least." ooc; aughhh its so late I'm so sorry ;^;

[Quinn]

She was quivering on the inside even though she was holding back on the outside. She didn’t want to continue to be afraid, not after her revelation with him, not when he was trying so hard for her. Her free hand touched her hair, fingering one of the loose curls. She listened to their breathing, to the rain that tapped quietly on the tin above them, his arm under her head, keeping her close and keeping her grounded. His hand took hers and threaded their fingers, his thumb rubbing the inside of her calloused palm, but she didn’t look at him…not yet. She was not sure if he would even want her to look at him, if it’d be too intimate for her to watch him while he tried to explain what he meant. She gave his fingers a small squeeze, letting him know that if nothing else…she was here. ”It’s a’right, Desi.” She murmured, drawing her knees up so that her feet were planted on the mattress. She turned a little, listening to his story and finding it to be just as horrible as her own. People…most people were monsters, and she was tired of dealing with all those monsters. Desi was the only person, perhaps aside from Hallie, who did not seem to fall into the lump of monsters. She rolled over, putting her hand over his chest, tightening her grip on his other hand. “We’re both pretty f***ed up, Des.” She murmured, putting her forehead to his side. ”But that ain’t cause we’ve done somethin’ wrong…an…an we ain’t what they were tryin to make us. We’re better. We’re both so much better. You are…a good person. No body could make you a bad person, they are bad…but not you…not you.” Quinn breathed him in: smoke, alcohol, blood and everything else that made him up for her. ”An…I can only speak for myself but I…I want…want us to stick together now. We’re f***ed up people but you’re the only f***ed up person that I can trust. That I want to. You and me…we been through some shit, some real shit that I…I did. I wanna stick around, I want this….us….to get…I dunno.” All of her words were choppy and stammered, her voice nervous and hoping that now he was willing to work with her. She needed something to stick, something to be certain and constant and to hold her to the ground. She pulled his free hand to her lips, kissing his knuckles. “I’m real sorry for what happened between us. I said…mean things, I was a real bitch.”

[Desidero DeSoto]

Despite the pain attached to their histories before the dome, it felt good to share with her. He was finally getting to know the girl behind the woman, so to speak. He'd always known there was something she was running from, just like he was. And to finally know-- even the vague sketches of what had happened--what shadows lurked brought him new understanding. And he found that he loved her all the more, completely unafraid of the demons of her past, as much as he was still terrified of his own. Desi knew he could never get the blood off his hands, not in the eyes of God or man; but he thought, he hoped that together, he and Quinn could come to terms with what they had done. He smiled a bit as she spoke, fighting her way through just to bring him some small comfort. It was such a small thing, just a few words--but those few words struck him so profoundly he didn't know what to say. So he kept quiet, his eyes drifting down to hers as she placed her head on his chest, calling him a good man. Was he really? He always strove to be, to make up for the sins of his past. But he'd always thought there was a falseness in his actions. He knew there was still a part of him that could kill, that wanted to kill and it left him feeling miserable, dirty. Even in his love for Quinn he sometimes felt that he had been trying too hard to be there for her, as if he had something to prove. That she was too good for a needy mongrel. But now as she was finally in his arms, finally returning the affections that she had so long spurned,he felt for the first time that if Quinn saw him as good (as he had always seen her), then maybe he was a good man. ”An…I can only speak for myself but I…I want…want us to stick together now. We’re f***ed up people but you’re the only f***ed up person that I can trust. That I want to. You and me…we been through some shit, some real shit that I…I did. I wanna stick around, I want this….us….to get…I dunno.” Desi felt a knot forming in his throat as she continued and he feared he'd be unable to talk. When she held his hand and kissed it, warmth seeped into his limbs and he left out a soft breath, somewhere between a sign and a moan. "I ain't goin anywhere, Quinn. We'll stick together, f**ked up as we are." he murmured in reply, his voice soft but strong with a solemnity that revealed his truth. "There ain't nobody could tear me from your side. Not even you." He said with a tinge of humor on looking back at everything that had been said and done to keep them apart. She apologized then, for everything. For the unspoken pain that had grown in him so long ago, tended by her angry words. But he had long since forgiven her, though as she admitted he realized how badly he had needed to hear her say that.  He brought their clasped hands to tilt up her chin so he could look at her, pressing his lips to hers. "Thank you," he whispered as he pulled slightly away. He held her gaze for a long moment before kissing her again, deeper. "But I wasn't blameless. I pushed you to feel the same way I did, when I knew you weren't ready..." he said, brushing gentle kisses as he spoke. "But I waited for you. And I will always wait for you."

[Quinn]

She offered a tiny smile, glad at least that he had heard her out. And had not laughed at her, which was also a good sign. She squeezed his fingers gently, lowering her eyes then, her ears flattening in uncertainty as he took his turn to speak. There ain't nobody that could tear me from your side. Not even you. She gave an abrupt laugh, not sure why she found it so funny. It sure as hell hadn't been funny when it had all been happening; that feeling of being chased down by something far more frightening than she had dared to consider. Fate? Destiny? At this point, she was not sure, but it had been relentless...much like this guy in front of her. His hand moved, and was followed shortly by hers too as they were still rather shackled together, lifting her chin up.  Her eyes searched his in sincerity, looking for any hints of deceit in him. She would kick his ass if he was lying to her. She did not know if he could see that though, that silent promise. His lips were warm, and solid against hers. Her eyes slid closed, her feet shuffling forward to close the gap between them; her hand still squeezing his other hand. He had pulled away, but she was not going to let him. She was not going to let herself pull away either. She'd had enough running, and she'd had enough waiting.  "Ya never did nothin that you didn't mean ta be good." She said quietly, his lips pressing down on hers again and again. "I just wasn't sure how...how to accept that. But I'm ready to learn, now." She wet her lips with her tongue, her head fully tilted back to reach for his lips. She was ready to stay. For good.

[Desidero DeSoto]

It was a strange sense of peacefulness that washed over him as she spoke, her words felt like how a good scratch felt. The best thing in the damned world next to well, you know. "Don't know how good'uva teacher I'll be," he murmured, with a smile between a kiss. " He grinned sheepishly to himself, surprised at how quickly his mood had shifted. Moments before he had been dwelling on the darkest of thoughts, diving headfirst into the dim recesses he avoided at all costs, the slums and gutters of his past. He paused and pulled back in the slightest, bringing his hand to cup her cheek, thumb grazing along her bottom lip. His eyes trailed over her face, lightly dusted with freckles, lined with with the dirt of the day and the scars of her past. She was beautiful, eerily beautiful in a world that was filled with such cruelties, such ugliness. He felt something twisting, turning inside as he looked into her eyes and tried to see the truth. He believed her, with all his meager heart could muster. Yet Quinn always seemed to have a control over his emotions, unaware of it though she may have been. The simplest look of anger or hurt or happiness and he would feel the same. He supposed it was all part of being raised a dog. Everything hinged on the person on the other end of the leash. At times he still felt trapped in that world, obedient in a desperate search for the safety and comfort of love. But with Quinn it was different; he craved this love, a love that wasn't safe. It was fragile, flighty--it dodged, it eluded, it fought tooth and nail. But it was their love. He smiled and brushed his thumb under her eye as if brushing away a tear, as he had done so often before, and leaned in to kiss her with a sudden and wonderful sense of freedom. His inked skin flushed with heat and a tremble trilled through his body as he tendered soft, slow kisses along her jaw, trailing down her neck. His teeth scraped the skin of her neck in the slightest, hands holding her body close against his, as close as he dared. "Stay with me," he murmured into the crook of her neck, unsure of why he said it--perhaps a mixture of habit and desire. She had more or less told him that she wanted to stick around, to be with him. That they were beautifully "Okay". BUt he needed to hear it from her lips just once more. He wrapped his arms around her in a hug, free hand tangled in her fire of curls, his cheek pressed gently against hers. "Stay."

[Quinn]

She had to look down, unsure how to confront all of her feelings at once. She was scared, first of all. She wanted this to work, but how could they make? Them? Two messed up people in a place where every day was a struggle to make it. His lips pressed to hers, sweeping those thoughts away under a rug for later. "I'm willing to be patient." She murmured softly, watching his thumb sweep over her bottom lip. His thumb was rough, catching on the cracked lines of her lip. "If you can." She whispered. Her eyelashes were brushing her cheek, afraid of what he was seeing. The dirt, the grime, the defect. She glanced up again, ready to defend that defect, but stopped as she looked into his eyes. She saw it there, in the caramel color of his eyes. He didn't care, he didn't care at all...he had every intention of taking every bruised and battered bit of her. She tightened her grip on his side, not wanting to let him go. "Desi." She said, her voice a little breathy. She laughed softly, letting herself relax. "You're a real piece of work, ya know that?" She asked, giving a little she of her head. His thumb moved up, sweeping just under her eye. She smiled, as he kissed her. She pressed back, unable to stop herself, certain that this was what she wanted. Him. And this. His lips moved down, catching her by surprise, her whole body freezing. She made a sound, a soft uff of surprise as she felt his teeth. Something in her was awakened, something that she was not sure that he was entirely ready for. Every sense told her to push him away, that this was not an allowed touch, but she hesitated. His hands drew her closer, holding her close to him. "D-Desi." She stammered, his request close to her ear as he pressed his cheek against hers. His fingers were in her hair, and she was at war on the inside...the fear threatening to overpower her again. His words were less a request and more of an order. She hesitated then relaxed into him, her hands gripping his shirt as she closed her eyes. Her forehead pressed to his shoulder, and she nodded. "Yes. Yes. Stay.