"No one's ever given me flowers before," she says, and it feels very different telling this to Gerard than to anyone else. "Sweeney said the flowers mean something but I don't know flower...uhm, language?"
"There's nothing you should be sorry about," she insists, but smiling all the same. "I'm okay with what Sweeney does. But you're not the one doing it anyway. Right?"
"I guess I've never believed in God," she says, looking at the ground between them. "What's it like? Because it sounds...awful. To believe someone hates you for wanting to be close to someone else."
He allows him to look up at her, his eyes growing tender.
"It's not that at all. God wants us to be together. To love, honor, and cherish each other. To be fruitful and multiple. We are all called to be that. We're half of a whole, and it's our duty and blessing to become complete."
Gerard offers a small supportive smile. "I am still looking for my other half." She's not alone. God still loves her and wants her to be happy.
"Yeah that's never been something for me. I can't multiply," a faint smile. "Not in a way you'd like. But I'm not human so maybe your God thinks I'm evil anyway."
She isn't sure why some part of her bucks against that notion. Shouldn't she like that thought? Maybe because only humans are favored by any God she's ever heard of. And maybe because no human she's ever cared about found favor from any quarter, least of all heaven.
Ok. Maybe more to take in than he's ready to, but it can be reflected on later during prayer. It's less that she is, and more that he's...been with her. That's hard enough on it's own.
"And I'm half a man," he jokes gently, trying to put her at some form of ease, even as saying it aloud only makes it more real. "We all have things outside of our control that we must bear."
It's so unlike Sweeney that she wonders again how they can still share a head. She thinks there has to be some common point where they intersect, but she can't imagine right now what it is. She takes his hand because it seems so natural to him even if it isn't to her, and smiles at him when she's on her feet.
She seems better. That is better. He smiles warmly.
"Of course I do," he confirms, happy to know all those hours of study is good for something. Gerard moves gently, continuing with her hand to try to guide it to the crook of his elbow. She had asked to walk with him, after all.
He laughs lightly, resting his hand softly over hers.
"Well, that is a rather broad topic." Gerard gives her a sideways glance, a smile tucked tightly in his lips. "Care to help a fellow out and narrow it down a touch?"
She's decided she likes it when he blushes. "What were you using them to say to me?" She asks, her arm through his, her hand under his, smiling up at him.
"Uh..." He straightens with a bit of additional awkwardness. His eyes dart over the floor.
"Just that--um...I was thinking of you, and wishing you to feel better. That I wanted to apologize. And that I didn't think I...well, that I didn't want to take advantage of you." He swallows. "Like that."
"I don't feel like I'm being taken advantage of," she promises softly. "Especially not by you. I just wish there was a way to talk to you that wasn't, um, in the middle of me being with Sweeney."
It is, after all, quite a big shift in mood to go from wanting to be fucked blind, to having a gentle conversation.
"I'm not terribly fond of him being in the middle of me either." Not sex, obviously. Just the waking up and not knowing what he'd done. Who he might have hurt.
"But I don't know how to control when I can have my body back."
She would of course argue that she tries frequently to not have sex with Sweeney, but once she's close enough to touch him all those reasons to abstain just vanish. She feels regret only that he didn't get a chance to leave her with a fresh set of bruises on her hips, with gravel and soil ground into her back.
These thoughts are not helpful. "He doesn't know either. How often are you even able to be up? Like, when's the last time you were you? When you gave me my flowers?"
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"I just--I wanted to express my sincere apology."
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"I do not believe God will see it that way," he answers softly. If they're his hands, his...well, the rest of him, the sin is the same.
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"It's not that at all. God wants us to be together. To love, honor, and cherish each other. To be fruitful and multiple. We are all called to be that. We're half of a whole, and it's our duty and blessing to become complete."
Gerard offers a small supportive smile. "I am still looking for my other half." She's not alone. God still loves her and wants her to be happy.
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"That's alright," he assures her. "He brought you here. He sees worth in you and wants you to have a chance for happiness."
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"I'm a werewolf."
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"And I'm half a man," he jokes gently, trying to put her at some form of ease, even as saying it aloud only makes it more real. "We all have things outside of our control that we must bear."
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"Of course."
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"Do you know lots of flowers?"
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"Of course I do," he confirms, happy to know all those hours of study is good for something. Gerard moves gently, continuing with her hand to try to guide it to the crook of his elbow. She had asked to walk with him, after all.
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"Tell me about the flowers, then."
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"Well, that is a rather broad topic." Gerard gives her a sideways glance, a smile tucked tightly in his lips. "Care to help a fellow out and narrow it down a touch?"
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"They're not violets," Gerard confirms with confidence. "I...I think it's Rock Cress." He smiles back at her with a hint of playful embarrassment.
"I admit, it's not one I've really worked with."
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"It's...well, there's a symbolism to it. You decide what you want to say, and then you let the flowers speak for you." He starts to blush.
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"Just that--um...I was thinking of you, and wishing you to feel better. That I wanted to apologize. And that I didn't think I...well, that I didn't want to take advantage of you." He swallows. "Like that."
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It is, after all, quite a big shift in mood to go from wanting to be fucked blind, to having a gentle conversation.
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Gerard swallows back the thought.
"I'm not terribly fond of him being in the middle of me either." Not sex, obviously. Just the waking up and not knowing what he'd done. Who he might have hurt.
"But I don't know how to control when I can have my body back."
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These thoughts are not helpful. "He doesn't know either. How often are you even able to be up? Like, when's the last time you were you? When you gave me my flowers?"
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