I'd ask how you're feeling, but the answer is obvious.
[ it's not a mean-spirited jab, but it is a jab aimed toward him. bellamy has the tendency to shrug those off without offense more than most she's met, but she still means it, even if there's no point in repeating the same sentiment she's told him a hundred times before. bellamy, as it turns out, has a denser head than most she's met, too. ]
— How could I be sick of a place with dragons? [ comes the follow-up not a second after, like it was a thought she couldn't contain for more than a second. speaking of inability to contain herself, he's most certainly getting shoved down onto the couch as she plops onto the cushion next to him. ] I mean, it's not a bad place. Just... uh. Weird.
[ like 'too hot' and 'too friendly' and 'too many people were getting aggressively handsy in the streets after the cure was released' weird. ]
[Bellamy sits down with complaint, even if she pushes him unnecessarily. And yeah, he looks like absolute crap and he knows it. Considering Clary has been hounding him all month, he doesn't even bother to pretend he's not ready to pass out. There's no point, and he knows it'll just start an argument, anyway. So, as she talks, he tilts his head back against the cushions, closing his eyes. The little amused scoff he lets out it proof enough that he's still listening.]
I'm guessing you had the same problems I did. They must not do personal space here.
[ well, that's a start. she's quiet for a moment, free to roll her eyes in the quiet of the room now that his eyes aren't fixed on her. flicking him in the side of the face is counterproductive to her goal of convincing him to take some minimal care where his own well-being is involved, but it's deserved for the amount of heckling he's put her through in these weeks. ]
That's putting it lightly. [ very, very lightly. the affection of the locals had some benefits, considering the pacts they'd been mistakenly offering, but that aside? ] What, not a fan of being preyed on by the locals? I thought that'd be more your style than mine.
[ it's a joke, from the laugh in her voice, but still. clary, stop. ]
[That's rude, honestly. Bellamy opens his eyes again, lips quirking. She might be pleased to notice that he's not actually moving, still sinking into the back of the couch.]
Was the use of 'to-do' list an intentional pun, or...
[ she's going to just trail off on that one, eyebrows pointedly raised as she presses her lips together to keep from chuckling beneath her breath. the picture of maturity, this one. ]
Sorry to disappoint you, but — [ yes, that's a finger jabbing him in the chest, solely for the point of emphasis. ] I'm not into voyeurism, anyway.
[ she lets her hand be moved, but it returns not a second afterward. she can't be curbed or denied, considering the fingers that tap him directly in the jaw. ]
Says the exhibitionist himself.
[ look she still remembers the beach. have some shame, bellamy. ]
[He's fully aware he has no shame, but stripping down at the beach isn't something he'd slot into the "exhibitionist" category, so he feels like he's missing something. This time, he doesn't swat her hand away.]
[ complete with the p popping, as though her quick answer wasn't suspicious enough — to say nothing of her failure at concealing a smile that is, at best, conspiratorial. the very same kind that says i have a secret and you have no idea what it is. ]
Not a thing.
[ her hand stays, now that it isn't being swatted against, fingers splayed absently where jawline meets neck. if he can't figure out her meaning for himself, like hell she's going to embarrass herself by explaining it for him. ]
[She's screwing with him again, but she doesn't pull her hand away, and his eyes lock on her for a second. She definitely thinks she's being clever about something, but he's too tired to parse what it is and tease her for it. The contact is nice, even if he has a feeling it's all part of their usual banter, and he closes his eyes again.]
I'm not the kind of person that tries to be a good liar. I like to think that counts for something.
[ even if she wanted to be deceitful — in a larger context, not one that includes shirtless men, thank you very much — she'd be horrible at committing to that ideal. she's always been too honest, too impulsive, too clary for her to put on much of a successful front.
for lack of a better use, her thumbs run circles against skin, absent-mindedly soothing now that his eyes are closed again. ]
[That's new, but he's not complaining. It's soothing, and he's exhausted, and he thinks he could doze off like this. He shouldn't. Still, at first the only response she gets is a quiet humming sound until he forces himself to actually reply.]
[ it's not a negative reaction, so she doesn't still or withdraw. if anything, that hum of a sound suggests it might even be successful in bringing him some tranquility — though she's admittedly selfish in wanting close human contact after retreating from it for nearly a month. ]
You have no idea what I just said, do you.
[ his reply is coherent and reasonable, but that noise and delayed time says he isn't as focused as he could be. it's telling, considering how little she knows he's slept. ]
[It's a weak retort, especially considering he still doesn't open his eyes.]
You're screwing with me again.
[Which would be a better argument in defense of his lucidity if his voice hadn't gotten softer, and if she didn't have a habit of screwing with him every second they're together.]
Yeah, sure. Barely. [ after a pause, she adds, more genuinely: ] I'm not mad.
[ nearly everyone that's met her knows clary fray's specialty is talking, after all, and even without that knowledge, she's aware of just how exhausted he must be. how exhausted they all are. ]
[It's not a complaint, though. His eyes finally open, and it takes far more effort than he expected it to. Bellamy reaches out to touch her arm, thumb skimming over her skin.]
You sure you're okay?
[He doesn't mean physically this time. If she's teasing him this aggressively, she can't be doing horribly, but he needs to be sure.]
[ lucky isn't the adjective she would have chosen, but she doesn't voice any disagreement. the twitch of her lips, threatening to curve upward again, speaks for itself — though it's softer, gentler, now that she isn't teasing. ]
It was a rough time for everyone.
[ diverting the attention from herself won't fool him, but she is fine. as fine as she can be, all things considered. ]
I'm okay. You don't have to worry about me anymore.
[ even she isn't worried, but that may or may not have something to do with that soothing brusg against her arm. ]
[He's going to worry about her regardless, because that's just the way he is. He doesn't say it, though. That'll invite an argument, and he doesn't have the energy for it right now. To be honest, he doesn't have the energy for much.]
You sure? You're not calling me an idiot. I think you might still be sick.
[ even without it being said, she can make an educated guess. bellamy isn't the type to swallow his concern; the effects of that rapidly spreading disease had established that for her, cut and dry, without much work. but if he isn't going to debate it, neither is she. ]
You're always an idiot. [ quick on the draw when she wants to, there isn't much of a beat between his observation and her retort. her eyebrow raises, as if challenging him to say otherwise. her fingers tap, tap, tap against skin until they still once again. ] I didn't think we were pointing out the obvious right now.
[That's more like it. He smiles at her wryly, and just stops fighting the urge to close his eyes again, leaning into her touch without realizing it. He's so, so tired. Sorry, Clary.]
[ she huffs a laugh beneath her breath, incredulous and amused in equal measure. not worried for now would sound more accurate from him, but she'll take what she can get. ]
Wouldn't want to disappoint you.
[ said just as wryly as his smile is. it's likely that leaning further into her touch might threaten to crush and/or imprison her wrist, but she isn't complaining much. yet. who's she kidding — she wouldn't complain even if that were the case. he's pushed himself this far; it's already impressive that he hasn't collapsed, but she's more concerned than anything. ]
You can stop pretending you're not going to fall asleep now.
[ even a blind person would be able to observe his exhaustion, or so she's willing to bet. ]
[He is. His response is half murmured, and he's settling against the back of the couch, fingers dropping from her arm. It's fine. He's just going to relax for a second, and then he'll sit back up and actually talk to her like a normal person.
Yeah, right. If she doesn't say something in the next few seconds, he'll be totally out.]
[ there's no point in denying it when the telltale evidence is there, in the same way it had been pointless to claim she'd been fine when every little movement left her drained. the count of how many times she's rolled her eyes while bellamy's have been closed has now increased to two, but it's a fond sort of exasperation she's experiencing — not the variety of frustration that she'd encountered weeks ago when he'd first refuted her demand. ]
You took care of me. [ so let me take care of you is what she doesn't say, but it seems to be quietly implied when she brushes her thumb back and forth along his jawline, voice barely above a hushed whisper. ] It's okay.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ it's not a mean-spirited jab, but it is a jab aimed toward him. bellamy has the tendency to shrug those off without offense more than most she's met, but she still means it, even if there's no point in repeating the same sentiment she's told him a hundred times before. bellamy, as it turns out, has a denser head than most she's met, too. ]
— How could I be sick of a place with dragons? [ comes the follow-up not a second after, like it was a thought she couldn't contain for more than a second. speaking of inability to contain herself, he's most certainly getting shoved down onto the couch as she plops onto the cushion next to him. ] I mean, it's not a bad place. Just... uh. Weird.
[ like 'too hot' and 'too friendly' and 'too many people were getting aggressively handsy in the streets after the cure was released' weird. ]
no subject
I'm guessing you had the same problems I did. They must not do personal space here.
no subject
That's putting it lightly. [ very, very lightly. the affection of the locals had some benefits, considering the pacts they'd been mistakenly offering, but that aside? ] What, not a fan of being preyed on by the locals? I thought that'd be more your style than mine.
[ it's a joke, from the laugh in her voice, but still. clary, stop. ]
no subject
You trying to say something, Fray?
no subject
[ if he thought flicking him was rude, she's evidently surpassing herself. ]
no subject
No. Getting handsy with the locals isn't on my to-do list.
[God, Clary!]
Sorry to disappoint you.
no subject
[ she's going to just trail off on that one, eyebrows pointedly raised as she presses her lips together to keep from chuckling beneath her breath. the picture of maturity, this one. ]
Sorry to disappoint you, but — [ yes, that's a finger jabbing him in the chest, solely for the point of emphasis. ] I'm not into voyeurism, anyway.
no subject
Good to know. I'm not into whatever the hell they were doing, so we're even.
no subject
Says the exhibitionist himself.
[ look she still remembers the beach. have some shame, bellamy. ]
no subject
[He's fully aware he has no shame, but stripping down at the beach isn't something he'd slot into the "exhibitionist" category, so he feels like he's missing something. This time, he doesn't swat her hand away.]
no subject
[ complete with the p popping, as though her quick answer wasn't suspicious enough — to say nothing of her failure at concealing a smile that is, at best, conspiratorial. the very same kind that says i have a secret and you have no idea what it is. ]
Not a thing.
[ her hand stays, now that it isn't being swatted against, fingers splayed absently where jawline meets neck. if he can't figure out her meaning for himself, like hell she's going to embarrass herself by explaining it for him. ]
no subject
You're a crap liar, you know that?
no subject
[ even if she wanted to be deceitful — in a larger context, not one that includes shirtless men, thank you very much — she'd be horrible at committing to that ideal. she's always been too honest, too impulsive, too clary for her to put on much of a successful front.
for lack of a better use, her thumbs run circles against skin, absent-mindedly soothing now that his eyes are closed again. ]
Buuut I'm still not telling you, either way.
[ brat. ]
no subject
Doesn't surprise me.
[What were they talking about again?]
no subject
You have no idea what I just said, do you.
[ his reply is coherent and reasonable, but that noise and delayed time says he isn't as focused as he could be. it's telling, considering how little she knows he's slept. ]
no subject
[It's a weak retort, especially considering he still doesn't open his eyes.]
You're screwing with me again.
[Which would be a better argument in defense of his lucidity if his voice hadn't gotten softer, and if she didn't have a habit of screwing with him every second they're together.]
no subject
[ nearly everyone that's met her knows clary fray's specialty is talking, after all, and even without that knowledge, she's aware of just how exhausted he must be. how exhausted they all are. ]
I'm always screwing with you, Bellamy.
[ is that supposed to be news? ]
no subject
[It's not a complaint, though. His eyes finally open, and it takes far more effort than he expected it to. Bellamy reaches out to touch her arm, thumb skimming over her skin.]
You sure you're okay?
[He doesn't mean physically this time. If she's teasing him this aggressively, she can't be doing horribly, but he needs to be sure.]
no subject
It was a rough time for everyone.
[ diverting the attention from herself won't fool him, but she is fine. as fine as she can be, all things considered. ]
I'm okay. You don't have to worry about me anymore.
[ even she isn't worried, but that may or may not have something to do with that soothing brusg against her arm. ]
no subject
You sure? You're not calling me an idiot. I think you might still be sick.
no subject
You're always an idiot. [ quick on the draw when she wants to, there isn't much of a beat between his observation and her retort. her eyebrow raises, as if challenging him to say otherwise. her fingers tap, tap, tap against skin until they still once again. ] I didn't think we were pointing out the obvious right now.
no subject
There you go. Now I'm not worried.
no subject
Wouldn't want to disappoint you.
[ said just as wryly as his smile is. it's likely that leaning further into her touch might threaten to crush and/or imprison her wrist, but she isn't complaining much. yet. who's she kidding — she wouldn't complain even if that were the case. he's pushed himself this far; it's already impressive that he hasn't collapsed, but she's more concerned than anything. ]
You can stop pretending you're not going to fall asleep now.
[ even a blind person would be able to observe his exhaustion, or so she's willing to bet. ]
no subject
[He is. His response is half murmured, and he's settling against the back of the couch, fingers dropping from her arm. It's fine. He's just going to relax for a second, and then he'll sit back up and actually talk to her like a normal person.
Yeah, right. If she doesn't say something in the next few seconds, he'll be totally out.]
no subject
[ there's no point in denying it when the telltale evidence is there, in the same way it had been pointless to claim she'd been fine when every little movement left her drained. the count of how many times she's rolled her eyes while bellamy's have been closed has now increased to two, but it's a fond sort of exasperation she's experiencing — not the variety of frustration that she'd encountered weeks ago when he'd first refuted her demand. ]
You took care of me. [ so let me take care of you is what she doesn't say, but it seems to be quietly implied when she brushes her thumb back and forth along his jawline, voice barely above a hushed whisper. ] It's okay.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)