[ Licking her lips, Claire nods, smoothing his shirt down and pulling back a little, managing not to lean into his touch, even though she wants to. Wants to curl up right here, stay safe in his arms.
It's a pretty unusual thought for Claire, and she's quick to shake it off. ]
Yeah. I'll take a quick shower. Coffee would be nice. I could cook you breakfast, if you're hungry.
[ She's not much for domesticity, but she's half Cuban - feeding people is in her very blood. ]
[ his lips part on a tiny exhale, as silent as it is affected. she pulls away and he stays rooted to the spot, as grateful for the distance as he wants to bridge it all over again. ] Uh. [ frank swallows, then slowly nods. he knows how grounding it could be, to cook for someone else. and maybe it would encourage her to eat, too, which he knows she needs. slowly, he starts to move away, planting one foot on the ground and then the other. he looks over her from the edge of the bed, and hopes that he helped. even if it was only a fraction of a tiny amount, he'd like that. to have helped her, and not for all the times she's helped him. but just because he wanted to.
frank goes back to his things and starts slowly reassembling himself like the snap-pieces of a late model g.i. joe. it takes a little longer to make the pieces fit than when he had removed them, but he manages before turning to offer her a brave smile. ] I'll see you soon.
[ he lingers in the doorway just a moment, feeling strange about leaving her even if the apartment isn't all that big. she can call if she needs help easily, but it's hard to let go when you're frank castle. when the only things he ever cared about were snatched from him without him even having to leave the room. despite the lingering rawness, frank swallows and carries onto her kitchen. whenever she emerges, he'll be drinking coffee with his bulky frame propped up by the counter and his jacket held on the back of a chair. ]
[ She turns back towards Frank after she stands up, wrapping her arms around herself for a moment before thinking fuck it to herself, leaning in and pressing her lips to his cheek, just for an instant, so fast that it could almost be something both of them pretend never happened. ]
Yeah.
[ And then she's in the bathroom, shedding her sleep clothes after turning on the water, letting it heat up, the room soon steaming up. If she mostly sits in the tub under the spray of water, well. No one has to know, and it still feels good, makes her feel more like herself, shaking the remnants of the fear that was clinging to her frame.
She isn't long in the shower, or to get herself back into clothes, clean sweats and a loose tank top, padding barefoot to her kitchen and going straight for the coffee pot, and then the fridge, bending over to check what she's got. ]
I can make us some huevos rancheros. Not Cuban food exactly, so don't go telling my mom.
no subject
It's a pretty unusual thought for Claire, and she's quick to shake it off. ]
Yeah. I'll take a quick shower. Coffee would be nice. I could cook you breakfast, if you're hungry.
[ She's not much for domesticity, but she's half Cuban - feeding people is in her very blood. ]
no subject
frank goes back to his things and starts slowly reassembling himself like the snap-pieces of a late model g.i. joe. it takes a little longer to make the pieces fit than when he had removed them, but he manages before turning to offer her a brave smile. ] I'll see you soon.
[ he lingers in the doorway just a moment, feeling strange about leaving her even if the apartment isn't all that big. she can call if she needs help easily, but it's hard to let go when you're frank castle. when the only things he ever cared about were snatched from him without him even having to leave the room. despite the lingering rawness, frank swallows and carries onto her kitchen. whenever she emerges, he'll be drinking coffee with his bulky frame propped up by the counter and his jacket held on the back of a chair. ]
no subject
Yeah.
[ And then she's in the bathroom, shedding her sleep clothes after turning on the water, letting it heat up, the room soon steaming up. If she mostly sits in the tub under the spray of water, well. No one has to know, and it still feels good, makes her feel more like herself, shaking the remnants of the fear that was clinging to her frame.
She isn't long in the shower, or to get herself back into clothes, clean sweats and a loose tank top, padding barefoot to her kitchen and going straight for the coffee pot, and then the fridge, bending over to check what she's got. ]
I can make us some huevos rancheros. Not Cuban food exactly, so don't go telling my mom.