( OPEN ) Frank Castle

[oorah]

𝓽𝓮𝔁𝓽𝓼, 𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓯𝓵𝓸𝔀, 𝓹𝓻𝓸𝓶𝓹𝓽𝓼, 𝓮𝓽𝓬.

Comments

[oorah]

i'm always joking you just take me seriously for some reason. i could be persuaded to share

[shittier]

uh huh

youre inviting me over and youre gonna make me work for my food? thats low even for you castle

[oorah]

fine. how do you feel about pasta primavera?

[shittier]

as in homemade?

[oorah]

just like mama castiglione used to make [ frank that's not your real name ]

[shittier]

ok but

you realize you dont have to do this right

you could feed me toast and theres a good chance youd probably get laid

[ who the fuck makes people dinner. who is he. what is this. she doesn't know what to do with any of it. ]

[oorah]

make dinner for myself like i was going to do anyway and share with you?

[ if that helps... the scenario at all for her. ]

besides i like to cook

[ is that another 'unexpected' fact? ]

[shittier]

you gonna scoot my chair in for me when i sit down

put my napkin in my lap too

[ sorry, she may or may not be laughing at this whole scenario while getting into her ride. ]

how are you the punisher

[oorah]

if i thought you'd let me [ ok now he definitely is joking. he's caught between offense and bemusement at that question. surprise he's been texting her while cooking this whole time it should be ready by the time she gets here. ] i already told you that story

[shittier]

well youre learning at least

yeah sorry i just

we were talking about how youre not what i expected earlier and this would be one of those moments to cement it

[ to be fair she probably knows a lot more about him than he knows. ]

[oorah]

have any other lessons for me? [ he's self-aware enough that this doesn't bother him, but it is... interesting, that she assumed he had no other traits. he's just a hardened killer? a psycho maybe even. and that's who she wanted to have sex with? damn, jess, that's messed up. ] it's fine. people assume a lot of things about people like us. right?

[shittier]

[ that last text scrolls across the top of her phone and she doesn't want to read into it too much but it definitely feels... passive aggressive. she really didn't mean anything by her comment, but. if he feels bad about it, it doesn't really matter, does it?

should she turn around? ]

and what about me

am i what you expected

[ she wasn't exactly sure what she expected when she met him. for him to be more like her, probably. you walk into her apartment, look at her, listen to her and you know she isn't right. but frank? if it wasn't for the obvious bruising and cuts all over his body at all times you probably wouldn't know any better. his clean apartment with the classics softly playing in the background while he tends to the pasta on his stove. it's just so... normal. he's not damaged in the way she is, and what's what surprises her. that's all. ]

[oorah]

[ if she thinks he isn't damaged then she isn't looking close enough. ] no. i expected you to be nicer.

[shittier]

[ no, she knows he is. he's just damaged differently. shes overall just a mess. ]

ive never been nice

even before all the trauma so

sorry to disappoint

[ this ride feels a lot longer without the stop to get alcohol on the way, strangely enough. ]

[oorah]

i didn't say i was disappointed [ it's quite the opposite really ]

[shittier]

[ there's definitely some trauma behind that but that comment made her feel... better about herself somehow? so she'll try to return the favor instead. ]

then i guess that makes us both pleasantly surprised with each other

[oorah]

i like the sound of that

[shittier]

ill see you soon

[ yeah she absolutely is dipping out after making a somewhat sweet comment she's such a fucking child ]

[oorah]

doors unlocked

[shittier]

[ and after some time she'll be walking through said door with a bottle in her hand, peering into the apartment. she's hit with the smell of his cooking almost immediately and finds him in the kitchen, tending to his meal. ]

Here.

[ like... yeah she's here obviously, but that's not what she means. she holds out the bottle she has to him. ] Pinot Noir. Guy at the store said it pairs best with red sauce.

[ she may or may not be looking over his shoulder to see if he actually... made red sauce. ]

[oorah]

[ he's just turning off the stove as she strolls in and he turns the full brunt of his bright smile on her. his eyes scan her face, a few fading bruises and scratches left behind but he looks almost normal again. frank moves to take the bottle, calloused fingers brushing hers as he shakes his head. wine always reminds him of the liebermans, but pinot noir is a far cry from sarah's rosé. his lips turn down, still smiling but a more private, grateful smile now before frank turns from her and back to his work. he's wearing a t-shirt and jeans and still looks damp from a shower. he vaguely smells like soap (which is better than he usually smells, so.) ] Thank you. [ he sets down the bottle and gestures to the drawer close to his right arm. ] Corkscrew's in there if you wanna- [ he gets down two shallow bowls from the cupboard above him, his shirt riding up a little to expose the healing patchwork at his side. no longer a broken unit, just a slightly discolored one. ] How hungry are you?

[shittier]

Can I taste it before I make a decision?

[ she's smirking at him if he turns to see if she's serious. taking off her jacket she places it by the door and then returns to him at the kitchen. she's wearing pretty much the same thing as last time, with a blank tank top instead of gray. ]

I haven't eaten in awhile, so. Whatever you wanna do with that.

[ she walks towards where he motioned for the bottle opener and pulls it out and starts to work away at the bottle. ]

You got any glasses?

[oorah]

Just short ones. [ ones he'd usually fill with bourbon or whiskey when beer wasn't cutting it. he's not really a wine guy, not enough to have real glasses for it anyway. it seems so... normal. it strikes him for a moment, even as his gaze runs over her shoulder and down her arm - distracted before he remembers himself. he goes to get them out and plunks them down on the counter for her with a sheepish smile. while she's doing that he'll scoop up some of the sauce with his wooden spoon, catching her eyes before moving it in close to her mouth, his hand cupped underneath. ] Go on, be brutal.

[shittier]

I'd be content with a coffee mug.

[ it all feels foreign to her. wine, like... she can't even remember the last time she had wine. never by choice, at least. she has to remember how to even use a bottle opener before finally popping the cork out of the top.

when he sets the glasses down she wastes no time pouring, not really sure what the right portion size was. middle of the glass? that sounded good. can she go to the top with hers?

she turns with both hands on the glasses to hand them over when she catches him making his way over to her with the spoon. there's a small laugh that breaks past her lips and she stares at him like... you serious?

but she indulges this anyway, putting a little bit of the spoon in her mouth and tasting it, moving a thumb up to wipe away the access. ]

You did good, Castle. And I don't impress easy, especially when it comes to food.

[ she says that with a smirk, handing him his glass. ]

[oorah]

I've got plenty of those.

[ most of them have cheesy patterns, too. no two the same. his favorite has a big chip in it and declares Go Indiana Hoosiers! but he has quite the random collection (what even is a hoosier?) the way she indulges his silliness doesn't go unnoticed either and he bites into his lips as his eyes track down to her mouth automatically to watch her tongue dart across. his tummy flutters, fighting back the urge to lean in and taste the sauce off her lips himself. ]

Did you just admit I impress you?

[ a teasing challenge as his fingers brush hers against his glass as he immediately takes a sip to hide how affected he is. ]

Go on, go sit down. I'll bring everything over.