Laundry Can Wait

[Wendy Berber]

*Long days. Long nights. Wendy has kept her schedule, kept the house on schedule, despite recent events. The pack can count on breakfast at 8. Supper at 6. Laundry on Tuesdays. Wendy Berber keeping things ordered and comfortable, even when everything around her was the opposite. Today she's rummaging around in the room she shares with Boy, scrounging laundry. The house is over warm and humid, both from a day that threatens thunderstorms, and the constant rumble of the washing machine in the basement. Wendy kneels beside a pile of laundry, fishing underneath the bed for a sock. This was so much easier when she had glasses.*

[Boy]

Three last pulsing whirs of a cordless drill and there was once again a fine, solid, respectable door separating the covetous eyes of the street folk in Lincoln Park from the sanctity that was the La Familia Pack house. Boy seemed different lately. At first it was a softness, a vulnerability that threatened to buckle him. He'd been abandoned again, and this one hurt more directly than the others. But then something had happened. He came home one morning with Dietrich and Marrick on either side, looking more determined than hurt. And then it was all back to business. Wendy might have heard him a few times, sliding out from under the bed in the middle of the night. Circling the interior of the house. Checking doors and windows, and sliding back in. He did the same thing at certain points during the day. This time starting with the door he'd just finished. (He even gave it a bit of a shoulder bump to see just how sturdy it really was) and checking each downstairs window before going upstairs and doing the same. Seeing Wendy on her knees with her head creeping further and further under the bed, he stopped and smiled to himself. "Careful. There's monsters under there."

[Wendy Berber]

*Thump. She rattles her noggin off the edge of the bed frame, just hard enough to ensure a little frown as she leans back and looks up at him. Even squinty eyed she can see him smiling, and so she quirks her lips rueful. An eyebrow darting up with tentative moxie.* Heh. Like werewolves?

[Boy]

He winces slightly when she hits her head, but he doesn't seem to have any desire to rush to her side either. He takes his time walking over and easing down low next to her, sitting on his heals. "Yeah. Sock stealing werewolves. They steal blankets and pillows too, cuz it gets cold under there sometimes."

[Wendy Berber]

They do steal blankets sometimes. *She smiles in earnest, shy but genuine. A spindly hand finds his knee timidly. More familiar of late. Near death experiences being what they were, they tended to make a person appreciate what they had. And Wendy Berber, through some miracle of fate she didn't care to question, had Boy.* Steal my blankets when I'm w-willing to share.

[Boy]

For a second he blinks, and his brows tug together. "Well...yeah." He replies matter-of-factly. "There's more space down here. Otherwise one of these days we'd wake up and find we'd both kicked each other out of bed." He places a hand over hers, squeezing gently, and gives her a look that said something in the neighborhood of 'That's only logical.'

[Wendy Berber]

*Wendy tilts her head, thin features drawn together in soft confusion.* Should.. I have bought a bigger bed? You do like it under there... right?

[Boy]

Its a soft laugh, and one might suspect that the only reason he made that open mouthed laughing motion was to hide the redness that was slowly growing in his cheeks. "Yeah, but lately I've...I sorta like it up there too." And growing... "With you. Y'know." And growing....

[Wendy Berber]

*Oh my goodness. Wendy begins to pink as well, flush taking residence in cheeks that have been growing less hollow with each passing week. She smiles, laughing reflexively.* Y-Yeah.. *This was silly, how embarrassed they both were. But it didn't stop Wendy from ducking her head shyly as she admits.* I like that too. *She blushing furiously, heat practically emanating off her face.*

[Boy]

"Um...well." He stops, eyes circling on the ground. "Do you think...um." Another stop. He licks his lips quickly, taking a breath. "Wendy, do you want...uh. How do you feel about...like...a family?" There. It was finally out.

[Wendy Berber]

Whu- *Wendy starts, before she blinks. Held captive suddenly by stunned shyness. Struck dumb. Her mouth opens and closes on words that don't quite form, eyes dedicated to Boy's hand on hers. She wets dry lips. A nod.*

[Boy]

He lowers his head, trying to get a better look on her face. Boy's eyebrows quivered slightly with worry. "Is that a...Well, I mean, we don't have to do it right now. We've got plenty of time, right? I just...wanted to know how you..." And then that hand wavered. The weight of it lifted suddenly, and the hand darted away before it returned to pat hers. "Listen. Don't worry about it. I just...never mind. Okay?"

[Wendy Berber]

No I - *Wendy looks up, brow pinched soft with confusion. Blue eyes blink as she clears her throat, hand slipping to reclaim his.* I do. Want a family, I mean. With you. *She takes a deep breath, nodding in confirmation to herself. She plucks at her tank top, pink as she looks up to him shyly.* But what - I mean.. how do you feel?

[Boy]

"How do I feel? Its...well...Its...something I want." Its everything he wants. The only thing he wants, perhaps. To have a family. A good family. But he also knows the dangers of coming on too strongly. Its why he doesn't look her in the eye just then. He realizes that level of desire would be scary to most. In fact he scared himself with it every so often. "And if we have kids that are as clever as you...." Ah. Of course. Uktena priorities are not glasswalker priorities.

[Wendy Berber]

Or kind like you.. *Wendy nods, looking back to their joined hands. She wets her lips, before looking back to Boy. She purses her lips, anxious.* [why won't you look at me? whats going on?]

[Boy]

That got a smile out of him, enough to break him out of that tension. He looks up suddenly, eyes growing slightly glassy. In the next moment he's pressed against her, peppering her face with quick kisses as he shifts his weight and forces them both to fall over toward the pile of clothes. Well, maybe he hadn't lost all of the tension.

[Wendy Berber]

*Oh wow. She hadn't realized he meant right now. A shocked giggle from Wendy as she falls limply into the heap of laundry, a sock falling across her shoulder. She smiles under the assault of kisses, wiggling ticklish and tugging Boy's shaggy hair. Playing at escape where as a few short months ago this same situation would have seen her rigid with fear.*

[Boy]

A few months ago she felt different too. Now that the steadier household life had taken some of the sharpness off her bones and filled out her face, now that he'd seen her face death bravely, Boy was a bit braver himself. A bit more bold, perhaps. He would fight on behalf of his mate, even though she showed the signs of someone who would soon be able to fend for herself, and admirably so. He would protect her from hurt, even though the scars he now ran his fingers over were proof that she could bear pain and survive.

[Wendy Berber]

*She looks at him above her, expression soft with adoration. Perhaps could Wendy Berber see the goofy besotted look on her face, she'd be inclined to tone it down, to compose herself. But she can't see herself, and so instead she's left unknowingly broadcasting her affection plain as day. Her hands set against Boy's ribs. She's not the only one that had benefited from the stability of the pack house. Bold as well, the skinny kin steals a heated kiss, more than content to spend the morning not doing laundry. That would get done much, much later.*