[ The Raleigh kind of heathen, of course. Chocolate sauce is great for a good deal of things, but she's hard-pressed to think of any now when the belated realisation of what they've become hits her, and it's fucking scary and wonderful all at once because hand on heart the best mornings are when she wakes up tucked against him, when they curl against each other, affection warm under their skin in the space between heartbeats, between words.
She likes those moments the way she likes his general grumpiness, his bad temper, she likes the times where he smiles, unguarded and bereft of spite and she'd lean in to kiss his cheek, just above that lovely dimple. Chuck's not the only one having a crisis because fucking be less gorgeous, Hansen, what the fuck.
She rubs her hand over her eyes, suddenly terrified. I like you. I like you very much. ] ...I'm flipping pancakes in your kitchen and you have vegemite in my fridge.
[That's just reiterating her point, that they have taken over each other's living spaces (and he can actually pinpoint when that started to happen, when at first they only went back to her place to fuck and the first time they stumbled back to his was the Night of Five Times) but the way he says it definitely equates vegemite with tampons. The tampons are worse, if you think about it because vegemite is a breakfast food and he needs breakfast if he doesn't have time to make it back to his place after spending the night at hers.
But tampons? That implies that she's spending time at his apartment that has nothing to do with sex. And she is. She can sleep in his bed and they don't always have sex and what.]
[ She knows exactly when it happened, in hindsight. When she'd come over and she'd only slept in his bed -- the first night she came over and they didn't have sex, and he held her and she liked it. And tampons are definitely not worse than vegemite because what is that fucking thing?
It happened when she went grocery shopping and went to buy it for him anyway; it happened when he slept the whole night through instead of leaving after, when she sometimes wakes up and admires his sleeping profile, allowing herself to be lulled to sleep by his breathing.
And now, she's living in his fucking apartment and she has tampons under his sink and he knows it and she just -- she wonders what he'd do next. What they'd do next. ] I don't know.
[ She exhales, because she's more than a little bit in love with him and she knows that he's not looking for anything serious and it freaks her out because somewhere they've crossed a line and she's not sure where Chuck stands on it. ]
[Chuck doesn't know what he wants to do about it. Obviously he isn't really that opposed to dating her since he already is and that. Is weird. And should make him really uncomfortable, like an allergic reaction to dating but he's probably more mad that it snuck up on him without him noticing than the fact that they're dating.
Does he want anything to change? No, not really. Can't go back to how it was without it being super awkward or super not what he wants.]
[ There are appropriate things to say to this. Proper things. Adult, mature things; like the attempt to sort this out, or... something similarly inspiring. But those are things people not like Chuck and Raleigh say. Chuck and Raleigh do things differently, the stupid way around, and so she asks this, momentarily distracted from their earlier conversation: ]
You have Facebook?
[ ...What does he even put on his wall? Raleigh's is long inactive because she's hated the idea of posting every little inconsequential thing like it's important, but. Wow. ]
[It doesn't matter what he puts on his wall, it's actually barely used. Unlike his linkedin account but that's different because he uses the latter for his work. But anyway, the point is is that he's not going to go around shouting this development from the rooftops but he doesn't want to change it.]
[ Raleigh's not a big fan of shouting it from the rooftops, either. As far as she's concerned, it's none of anyone's business. She's still processing it, running it through in her head.
Finally, she mutters. ]
...Get the chocolate sauce. We're eating some pancakes.
[ ...This is going to be weird for a long while. Like not quite noticing your nose sometimes then your nose gets pointed out and you can't help notice it anyway.
Still, she helps to lay out two stacks of still-warm pancakes. ]
Get me the chocolate sauce while you're at it, too. And cream.
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She likes those moments the way she likes his general grumpiness, his bad temper, she likes the times where he smiles, unguarded and bereft of spite and she'd lean in to kiss his cheek, just above that lovely dimple. Chuck's not the only one having a crisis because fucking be less gorgeous, Hansen, what the fuck.
She rubs her hand over her eyes, suddenly terrified. I like you. I like you very much. ] ...I'm flipping pancakes in your kitchen and you have vegemite in my fridge.
no subject
[That's just reiterating her point, that they have taken over each other's living spaces (and he can actually pinpoint when that started to happen, when at first they only went back to her place to fuck and the first time they stumbled back to his was the Night of Five Times) but the way he says it definitely equates vegemite with tampons. The tampons are worse, if you think about it because vegemite is a breakfast food and he needs breakfast if he doesn't have time to make it back to his place after spending the night at hers.
But tampons? That implies that she's spending time at his apartment that has nothing to do with sex. And she is. She can sleep in his bed and they don't always have sex and what.]
We're dating. When the fuck did that happen?
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It happened when she went grocery shopping and went to buy it for him anyway; it happened when he slept the whole night through instead of leaving after, when she sometimes wakes up and admires his sleeping profile, allowing herself to be lulled to sleep by his breathing.
And now, she's living in his fucking apartment and she has tampons under his sink and he knows it and she just -- she wonders what he'd do next. What they'd do next. ] I don't know.
[ She exhales, because she's more than a little bit in love with him and she knows that he's not looking for anything serious and it freaks her out because somewhere they've crossed a line and she's not sure where Chuck stands on it. ]
What do you want to do?
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Does he want anything to change? No, not really. Can't go back to how it was without it being super awkward or super not what he wants.]
... I'm not updating facebook about this.
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You have Facebook?
[ ...What does he even put on his wall? Raleigh's is long inactive because she's hated the idea of posting every little inconsequential thing like it's important, but. Wow. ]
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[It doesn't matter what he puts on his wall, it's actually barely used. Unlike his linkedin account but that's different because he uses the latter for his work. But anyway, the point is is that he's not going to go around shouting this development from the rooftops but he doesn't want to change it.]
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Finally, she mutters. ]
...Get the chocolate sauce. We're eating some pancakes.
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I'm getting syrup. Like a normal person.
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Still, she helps to lay out two stacks of still-warm pancakes. ]
Get me the chocolate sauce while you're at it, too. And cream.
[ She's going to eat and eat and not get fat. ]