edenshiloh:
ianabraham:
Ian smiled and snuggled closer to her. “And you say I’m the one always trying to make the world out to be a beautiful place.” he sighed softy. “I guess it’s not really something that I can help, you know? When I was a little kid, I was scared of everything. And my mom encouraged it, I guess because she thought it would keep me safe if i was afraid to go near anything. Some of those are harder to shake than others.” he paused. “I don’t like storms because I can’t touch them. I guess. Not to psychoanalyze myself but storms are such an uncontrollable abstract concept and it’s kinda freaky to me. You, I can touch.” he nuzzled her playfully. “I’m not scared of you.”
Shiloh sighed.
“Your mom was kind of an idiot. Don’t get pissed!” she countered quickly. “I’m just saying.”
“But I get it. Kind of. You don’t like shit you can’t touch. I don’t like shit that I don’t have proof of. My proof is sight. A sense thing almost.”
“Well, either way…it’ll pass. And then the world will be fucking beautiful and sunshine just like you like it. Kay? So calm down and stop being a baby,” she grinned, punching him lightly on the arm. “And rub my feet. I borrowed your heels and they are fucking bitches.”
“She had her reasons!” he protested. “I was supposed to be twins. But my mom went into labor way early and they couldn’t stop it…” he stopped. He’d never actually told anyone about this stuff before, but he knew somehow that Shiloh would listen, and care, and not make a huge fucking deal out of it. “My twin died almost immediately, I guess. And I went blind. Stage four retinopathy of prematurity was what got thrown around a lot when I was a little kid. It’s something that happens to premies when our eyes don’t develop right.” he shrugged, trying to lighten the talk. “I had a bunch of other problems as a little kid that might have been related to the whole birth thing, too, like poor motor control and really bad asthma. My mom… she really freaked out about it all. Wouldn’t you do the same?”
He fished around under the covers until he found her feet and began massaging one. “What did I tell you about wearing my shoes, they’re way too big for you. You never listen to me, dumb butt.”
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edenshiloh:
ianabraham:
In the bed, he curled around her, shivering at the freezing cold wherever their skin touched. He bit his lip. “…Yeah. Storms. They’re… really scary, okay.” He could feel himself flushing and hid his face beneath the comforter. He had no idea if it was too dark for her to see, but he wasn’t taking chances.
“It’s… loud, and unpredictable. Everything gets really dark and the walls shake and the wind howls and sometimes there are these sudden bright flashes of light. It’s really disorienting. I used to freak out whenever they happened as a little kid. I cried, it was pretty awful.” he twisted his lip in his teeth. “‘S not so bad now.” He curled closer to her.
A snarky comment was halfway formed in her mouth before Ian’s face caught Shiloh’s eye, and it died in her throat. She could see how upset he actually was, and something hot and acidic twisted in her stomach. She was mad, suddenly, at the storm, which was stupid, she knew, but still…she hated seeing Ian like this.
She bit her lip, thinking.
“Yeah, but…that’s kinda like me, isn’t it? And you love me,” she grinned, pushing at his shoulder playfully. “I’m loud and unpredictable and I can yell louder than the dumb wind and more things break when I get mad than when the house shakes. I’m scary as fuck but you’re not afraid of me because you know I’d never actually hurt you. There’s like a one in a million chance a thunderstorm could actually hurt you. So why be scared?”
She turned and peeked her head out from under the covers, snuggling close against Ian’s chest and watching the window.
“And besides…I think they’re kind of beautiful. I mean…what else is there that’s that fucking powerful, you know? And like…lightening…where the hell else are you ever gonna see anything like that? Like…where did it even come from? You know…it’s kinda nice, not knowing. I mean, I know there’s science and stuff behind it, but hell if any of that means anything to me. It’s just…stunning, you know?”
Ian smiled and snuggled closer to her. “And you say I’m the one always trying to make the world out to be a beautiful place.” he sighed softy. “I guess it’s not really something that I can help, you know? When I was a little kid, I was scared of everything. And my mom encouraged it, I guess because she thought it would keep me safe if i was afraid to go near anything. Some of those are harder to shake than others.” he paused. “I don’t like storms because I can’t touch them. I guess. Not to psychoanalyze myself but storms are such an uncontrollable abstract concept and it’s kinda freaky to me. You, I can touch.” he nuzzled her playfully. “I’m not scared of you.”
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edenshiloh:
ianabraham:
He leaned backwards into her embrace, wanting to tell her he was fine. Instead, what he said was “you’re wearing my sweater.” He turned in her arms. “I like it.” he nuzzled his face in the crook of her neck, wrapping his arms around the small of her back. “I don’t like storms.” he muttered. He steered her towards their bedroom, not letting go of her waist. “You wanna cuddle?” he mumbled. “I kinda wanna cuddle.”
She smiled, nuzzling further into the sweater at the information that it was his. That was why it smelled so good. She let him guide her towards the bedroom and tugged him down onto her nest of a bed and yanked the comforter up to their chins.
“Really? Storms? You? Tough guy who braves the Queen bar scene at midnight is scared of a storm?” she asked teasingly, poking him in the side as she curled up against his chest, rubbing her still ice cold legs against his fabric clad ones and hoping to soak up some of the heat.
In the bed, he curled around her, shivering at the freezing cold wherever their skin touched. He bit his lip. “…Yeah. Storms. They’re… really scary, okay.” He could feel himself flushing and hid his face beneath the comforter. He had no idea if it was too dark for her to see, but he wasn’t taking chances.
“It’s… loud, and unpredictable. Everything gets really dark and the walls shake and the wind howls and sometimes there are these sudden bright flashes of light. It’s really disorienting. I used to freak out whenever they happened as a little kid. I cried, it was pretty awful.” he twisted his lip in his teeth. “‘S not so bad now.” He curled closer to her.
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edenshiloh:
ianabraham:
He walked slowly over to her, collapsing in slow motion into a hug. “‘S nothing.” he mumbled into your hair. “Just glad you’re safe.” As he wrapped his arms around her, his fingers clinked against her mug. “That coffee’s gross. I’ll make you some more. Maybe some popcorn?” he played with a strand of her soggy hair. “You go get warm. You’re cold as fuck. I’ll come help you when the popcorn’s done.” with a final squeeze he moved away from her and towards the sink to fill the empty coffee pot.
There was something about mothering someone else that always calmed him down. He reached towards the cabinet to get the instant coffee. A sudden crash of thunder sounded, loud enough that the apartment felt like it was shaking, and his knuckles turned white around the door handle. He leaned into the counter, eyes screwed shut for a second, before resuming as if nothing had happened. At least, he hoped she didn’t think anything had happened.
She grunted in thanks at Ian’s offer to prepare something, too tired and cranky to argue. She could be adamant that she was a strong, independent, not-so-black woman who didn’t need no man all she wanted, but she had to admit, she let Ian do this mothering thing way too much. But it seemed to comfort him, so she allowed it.
Shiloh wandered into the living room again and tugged her soaked dress over her head, grunting in frustration at the way the material clung to her skin. Rolling the tights off didn’t prove any easier, and she debated just staying in her underwear after that, grateful for the freeing feeling, but, after a short internal debate, decided Ian was right, it was indeed freezing.
There was a sweater hanging over the arm of the couch, and she wasn’t sure whose it was, but it looked big and warm and comfy so she decided it was hers. She tugged the soft material over her head, the hem hitting just above her knees and the sleeves hanging inches past her hands, and slipped her feet into a pair of slippers under the coffee table. She glanced on the table by the door for a hair-tie and, finding a rubber band instead, tucked her mane up into a bun on top of her head to get the mess out of her face. She sighed happily at being allowed to be comfortable again.
When she slipped back into the kitchen, she found Ian leaning against the counter, eyes scrunched shut and knuckles tensed white. She furrowed her brow.
“‘Kay. You’re definitely not alright. What’s the matter?” she asked, sliding in behind him and wrapping her arms around his waist, resting her temple against his shoulder.
He leaned backwards into her embrace, wanting to tell her he was fine. Instead, what he said was “you’re wearing my sweater.” He turned in her arms. “I like it.” he nuzzled his face in the crook of her neck, wrapping his arms around the small of her back. “I don’t like storms.” he muttered. He steered her towards their bedroom, not letting go of her waist. “You wanna cuddle?” he mumbled. “I kinda wanna cuddle.”
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edenshiloh:
ianabraham:
Storms. When he was a little kid, Ian had hated them, the confusion and the noise and the darkness. Even now they put him on edge as he lay sprawled across his mattress, his fingers worrying the edge of his blanket, waiting for Shiloh to come home. It wasn’t unusual for her to come home so late, but with the weather reigning terror over the city and AJ away doing god knows what, his mind opened to all sorts of terrible possibilities that could have occurred.
What seemed like centuries later, he heard the light switch flick on in the other room. He half restrained himself from getting up, the small shreds of friendless Ian not wanting to seem too clingy, but he thought both of them had moved past the stage in their relationship where that was necessary, and he stood and opened the door. “Hey.” He spoke quietly from the doorway.
Shiloh sighed as she dropped her bag on the floor by the apartment door, shaking the water off her jacket and wringing out her hair. She was aware of the puddle she was leaving by the door but she really didn’t care enough to mop it up right now. It had been a long night and she’d barely made $30. She was tired and cold and cranky and just wanted to curl up in bed.
She kicked off her heels and wiped the heel of her palm down her face to scrub off the smeared makeup just as a quiet voice caught her attention.
“Hey, princess,” she greeted tiredly, sweeping around the corner into the kitchen to pour the remainder of the leftover coffee into a mug.
She glanced up to see Ian hovering in the doorway. She blinked a couple times, noticing for the first time he looked pale, even a little shaky as the wind rattled the walls of the paper thin apartment.
“You okay, sweet thang?” she asked, sipping at the cold coffee and wincing slightly at the bitter taste.
He walked slowly over to her, collapsing in slow motion into a hug. “‘S nothing.” he mumbled into your hair. “Just glad you’re safe.” As he wrapped his arms around her, his fingers clinked against her mug. “That coffee’s gross. I’ll make you some more. Maybe some popcorn?” he played with a strand of her soggy hair. “You go get warm. You’re cold as fuck. I’ll come help you when the popcorn’s done.” with a final squeeze he moved away from her and towards the sink to fill the empty coffee pot.
There was something about mothering someone else that always calmed him down. He reached towards the cabinet to get the instant coffee. A sudden crash of thunder sounded, loud enough that the apartment felt like it was shaking, and his knuckles turned white around the door handle. He leaned into the counter, eyes screwed shut for a second, before resuming as if nothing had happened. At least, he hoped she didn’t think anything had happened.
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Storms. When he was a little kid, Ian had hated them, the confusion and the noise and the darkness. Even now they put him on edge as he lay sprawled across his mattress, his fingers worrying the edge of his blanket, waiting for Shiloh to come home. It wasn’t unusual for her to come home so late, but with the weather reigning terror over the city and AJ away doing god knows what, his mind opened to all sorts of terrible possibilities that could have occurred.
What seemed like centuries later, he heard the light switch flick on in the other room. He half restrained himself from getting up, the small shreds of friendless Ian not wanting to seem too clingy, but he thought both of them had moved past the stage in their relationship where that was necessary, and he stood and opened the door. “Hey.” He spoke quietly from the doorway.
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ooc: heeey guys! please unfollow me, as i am no longer a part fo this group. y’all are stellar and it was a great time, but this blog and i must move on to other things…
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