[ the downside to a small living space? it's hard to be the earlier riser. though it's certainly not nearly as hard as the later one, especially if the earlier riser has a habit of wearing hanging metal discs along her hip that jingle and chime as she bustles about the space, trying to make breakfast for three as quietly as possible. it seems that after so many years of wearing it, olivia has all but forgotten them by now.
but, by now, it should be a familiar sound for graham. a familiar sight, too, to see the pink-haired woman moving around the little kitchen area, somehow always managing to whip something up with the small amount of food she purchases from the market every week. their arrangement has only been going on for a few weeks now, but it's been a fairly successful one, as far as olivia is concerned. at the very least, they don't want to kill each other. that's always nice.
but olivia already realizes there isn't much that she knows about her almost-roommate (the permanence of their arrangement is still up in the air) and while she normally wouldn't pry... a few weeks' worth of shared living space has probably earned her a pass for her curiosity, right? so she's putting a bit of an extra touch to today's breakfast, hoping it might entice the other to open up a bit more around the table. it certainly can't hurt! ]
[On the morning of the 25th, wherever the hell Graham's staying, there is a nicely wrapped package, with a written letter tucked in at the top, next to a large ribbon.
Inside his present is a container of (now cold) spaghetti, a knit hat in black, and several bones.
Opening the letter reveals a maybe somewhat familiar font, which says:]
GRAHAM,
MERRY CHRISTMAS! THE BONES ARE FOR YOUR DOG FRIEND. I WANTED TO GET YOU TWO MATCHING PRESENTS, BUT IT'S AWFUL, THEY DON'T SELL HATS FOR DOGS HERE?? UNBELIEVABLE. I'M GOING TO HAVE TO SPEAK TO MANAGEMENT ABOUT THIS.
( it couldn't have been easy to pin down the fugitive, but Graham does get his gift and he's rather bemused by it. it may be Christmas but he wasn't expecting anything. the hat is warm (which is good) and his wolf greatly enjoys the bones, and it's very thoughtful for a skeleton, really. )
I got your gift, that was quite kind of you. and I think the wolf is all right without a hat, you should see what he did to the bow they gave him.
( it was ugly. speaking of ugly... actually maybe they shouldn't speak of the spaghetti. )
( is it sad he wishes he could see? that must be adorable very charming... )
I'm doing all right. things are a bit rougher after getting out of the jail, but I'm making do. you know I never did thank you for helping me. I don't know that I'd have made it without you.
SOMETIMES. DOGAMY AND DOGRESSA MOSTLY WEAR HOODS THOUGH.
IT'S TRUE, I REALLY WAS A BIG HELP!! I'M SURE THOUGH IF I HADN'T SAVED YOU, SOMEONE ELSE WOULD HAVE. THEY JUST WOULD HAVE BEEN LESS FRIENDLY AND EFFICIENT!! IT'S A GOOD THING I WAS THERE THOUGH, SO YOU WOULDN'T HAVE TO SETTLE FOR SECOND BEST.
Edited (Whoops forgot to talk about dogs in hats) 2015-12-29 14:26 (UTC)
( you have to be the most humble skeleton he has ever met, Papyrus! now don't let the fact you're the only skeleton he's met make that title any less significant. )
I'm glad I wound up with you, too. I'm glad to have met you. it's true, though, quite a few people stormed the jail, considering it could have ended badly.
( it wasn't often that someone could wake sooner than he did. he'd always been one to wake at sunrise and sleep a little after the sun set. perhaps the lack of sun was what left him out of order, there was nothing to remind his head to wake without sunlight filtering over a shadowed world. he has gotten accustomed to the slight ring of the charms on her clothes, the wolf less so. when he's spent the night indoors it always wakes him, and the animal watches her move around with quiet eyes from his spot half on the human still resting on the floor.
it had made his host feel a little guilty, though he hopes it has abated a little now. he'd slept in a lacking bed back in storybrooke but now that he has his memories he prefers what he knows, and he only ever slept on the ground in Misthaven. the floor isn't so different than that, and he's not without his comforts. he sleeps pretty well, though that might have something to do with what he doesn't have, more than what he does.
when he finally forces himself to rouse, the wolf loses his pillow and skitters up, padding toward the kitchen with curious and forward perked-ears. the former sheriff rubs at his eyes and tries to stretch the stiffness he can't quite feel from limbs before he heads toward Olivia, looking a little lost and a bit sheepish. he always seems to feel a little badly about existing in her space, even if it was offered. ) Good morning... I think. ( the eternal darkness made it perilously hard to tell if they'd actually found morning. )
[ it's not hard to notice the somewhat cautious air he carries around her, as if too afraid that even breathing too loudly might be a step too far. it had been a bit amusing, at first, for olivia happens to be self-aware enough to know she's possibly one of the most amenable people anyone could ever meet... but after a few weeks, it's begun to make her a little uncertain. the last thing she wants, after all, is to make someone uncomfortable. and it'd be rather counter-productive to the reason for this arrangement in the first place. ]
Good morning.
[ though it would be inaccurate to say that olivia is blameless. "overly cautious" could very well be her middle name, if she actually had a last name, and it can be argued that her gentle tones and careful hosting are just as much a hindrance. ]
Did you sleep well?
[ it's become a bit of a routine now, these days. not that repetition has not made the question any less genuine. her purple eyes sweep over his rumpled state, lips pursing to stifle a small smile at the sight of his bedhair. she just manages to resist the urge to reach up and comb the curls back into submission. ]
( it isn't really her fault, he'd be the same with anyone. his life has left him with a certain amount of scars, a few too many expectations. and in the end he was raised to always be alert, by wolves that were constantly focused on survival and little else. he doesn't mean to make her feel badly, and he has learned to be a little less cautious with time.
just a little.
he notices her attempt to stiffle a smile and knows it's his hair. he rifles a hand through it but if anything it makes it worse. his hair was too long when he arrived and he needs to get a trim, he's just not sure where. it's likely not going to be an easy task in Chantes, anyway, especially now that he's a bit on the lamb. )
Well. Thank you. ( he manages a small smile of his own, even though it is a little weak. like watercolors compared to acylic, there's just something missing. ) He's not in the way, is he? ( the wolf is quick to join her in the kitchen when food is on the agenda. he'll eat anything, even though he shouldn't eat everything. the wolf just smiles up at her as if to tell her he could never possibly be in the way, and also does she have any extra? )
IM CRYING WITH HOW CUTE THAT CAT IS..... NO...............
[ she's grateful for the shift in subject (though a part of her also flares up in guilt over so eagerly accepting the wolf as a distraction), for it saves her from finding more amusement over his poor attempt at righting his hair. turning to the animal at her side, she plucks up a plate that she'd set off to the side, filled considerably with a combination of old and new meat, made wet and juicy with some leftover stew. this she sets down at he feet, crouching briefly to ruffle her hands over the wolf's soft fur. ]
Never, [ she insists, though the word is punctuated with a meaningful glance that she reserves for graham as well. neither of you are.
she gestures to the two other plates left along the counter, both of which she'd just been settling some fresh fruit into to mingle with the bread and cheese she'd cut up for breakfast. ]
Hungry?
Edited 2015-12-30 21:35 (UTC)
he's probably crying about being so adorable, nobody can really understand.
( DO SKELETONS HAVE HEARTS THO? whatever it's a saying. and it's true, despite his exuberance and childish nature, Papyrus seems quite kind. and that means a lot to the huntsman. )
( Graham isn't sure he's a good person. when a person is made to do bad things, do they become their actions? and even if those are discounted, he wasn't a good person if he agreed to hurt an innocent girl to protect his family.
he's still trying to be better now. )
I hope I don't disappoint you, then. being a good person is what I want to be.
( see, this is why the wolf is so delighted to see her in the kitchen. he's a spoiled monster when only graham is about to look after him, but the huntsman had never made him a nice gravy to go with his breakfast. the kindness toward his closest friend earns her a smile. they're always small but some things make them a little brighter. there's little that manages to reach his absent heart like kindness toward an animal, especially the one that matters most to him.
the wolf seems ravenous, waiting only long enough for olivia to go back to her work before messily starting at his plate. wolves are not made for neat table manners. as for Graham himself, well, he hasn't felt hungry in thirty years. he can't rightly say that, though; he supposes he should eat, since it's morning. )
Yes. One of these days I ought to make you a meal.
( it seemed fair to return the favor. he may be a bachelor that is used to microwaving over actually cooking, but he does know how. and he'd like to, to return the smallest bit of her hospitality. )
[ if olivia had known he hadn't needed the meal, she might have fallen into a flustered mess of apologies... before insisting on it anyway. the routine of it, she thinks, certainly can't hurt.
still, she is blissfully ignorant at the moment, and so happily takes him up on his kind offer. ]
Please, [ she says, gesturing towards the dishes, though he's bound to know where they are by now. she's only a little more familiar with the space than he is, after all; it hasn't been that long since she's found herself in alastair's care.
..."care."
but while he busies with that, she'll go ahead and bring their food over to the table — today's breakfast are an egg for each of them, and some fried strips of bacon she'd managed to get for a fairly decent price. those, along with the fruits from the other day that she'd cut up and set in bowls should be filling enough. ]
( there are certainly good people out there, he's learned to accept that as fact. everyone having goodness, though, he refuses to believe that because he's seen the proof of its fallacy. )
it's not wrong to hope for the best, but you ought to be careful. not everyone deserves that faith.
( she is not the only one that doesn't know about his condition. in fact, only the person that knew him from before his arrival here in Chantes knows about his heartlessness. sometimes he thinks it shows, whether he wants it to or not — there's gaps in his behavior, places he can't feel or react the way he's meant to and people slowly are likely to notice those absences. there's nothing he can do about them, and perhaps it would be better to explain.
yet he holds it back, for no good reason other than not wanting to explain how he lost it. why it had been taken, the things he'd been forced to do. he's not ready to talk about that, not even with Emma, who at least knows a shadow of what his life had been before the curse. he doesn't know that he'll ever want to talk about it, which leaves his heartlessness a secret he keeps to himself.
it doesn't stop him from living, as bizarre as that sounds. he sets the table quietly, and neatly — and stop to get some water he'd collected the night before. it's a perfectly respectable breakfast, and he tugs a chair out for his companion before he sits himself. )
Have you any plans today?
( as far as his go, they're probably to go out to town for a bit. try and see if there was any word out on the Order. it isn't much of a lead but hopefully the more information they find, the more they'll know about how to help Chantes. )
[ He's been warned about this sort of thing before. Many times, by many people. ]
BUT EVERYONE HAS REASONS FOR WHY THEY DO THINGS. THAT'S WHY THE TRYING PART IS IMPORTANT!
SOMETIMES PEOPLE FEEL LIKE THEY'VE LOST EVERYTHING, AND IF EVERYONE ALSO GIVES UP ON THEM, THEN THEY ALSO FEEL LIKE THEY SHOULDN'T BOTHER TRYING. SO THAT'S WHY I WON'T STOP HAVING FAITH. SOMETIMES IT JUST TAKES ONE PERSON TO BELIEVE IN THEM.
I don't think there's ever a good reason to hurt people.
( not heartbreak, not unhappiness, not loneliness. it's a lesson he learned too late in life, and it ended up with him losing his heart and being the instrument of hurting people. he doesn't think he gets an excuse for it, either. )
just be careful. faith is a good thing. some people just don't deserve it.
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