( Hey! That gets a little sound of protest, which is more him being silly than anything to do with it hurting, what with the careful silence he keeps for Atlas, and all. Donny sticks his head into the bathroom, and adds - imperiously, )
N-no one's c-called me um, d-delinquent in ages.
( Because he totally got called that by a scandalized old lady who caught sight of his tattoos, one time. )
[Well. Not quite, because it's a pre-arranged meeting, something more like a date, but she doesn't want to say that to Donny. She's felt a little awkward about bringing anything like this up, since the mission to the beach.]
And-- oh. Right, of course. He should've-- he should've figured. Just a silent oh, more swallowed than spoken, nodding a little and he should go away, right? ) You um, l-look really p-pretty.
( "Beautiful" would be the more accurate word, but he doesn't want to make it weird, just wanted to... be supportive. Or something. )
[But there's a smile in her voice, even if it wavers a little with everything else. She ignores it, focuses on making sure her lipstick is perfect.]
Thank you.
[And she actually turns to look at him for a moment, her smile warm and genuine-looking, despite the fact she's not really sure how she feels about any of this. It's important to make sure he doesn't get too upset or tangled up about this.]
( Protecting Max still comes first. It always will. ) D-definitely, I'll-- um. I'll b-be there.
( He'll wait. If she is too late past midnight, he'll start tearing places apart looking for her. It's just how they look after each other. Max doesn't owe him anything, though, no apologies. He'd hate it, if he knew she felt that way. )
Good. [And a smile, as if she'll be glad to see him, glad to have him there, even though she doesn't really need his protection.
She finishes up the touches on her make up, then heads back into the apartment to put on her shoes and grab her purse. She's dressed a little nicer than she normally would be, but she hopes Donny won't think too much of it.]
( A flicker of a smile, though it falls away fast. Is Max just trying to be nice to him, again?
And of course he's noticed. Between living together for close to three months, maybe more, and just her being Max, he's familiar with habits, the kind of levels she dresses to, even without having known her so long at home. His expression is just a little more controlled than it used to be. Atlas has to be stoic, has to be in control, and he's becoming Atlas soon.
She doesn't need to see Adonis being stupid. )
Sounds uh, l-like a p-plan.
( Or something. ) B-be careful.
Edited (I ADDED THE WORDS TO THE WRONG PLACE) 2013-08-27 12:20 (UTC)
[Although the point of Atlas is that he shouldn't be careful, if he's helping people, but she's sure he'll understand what she means.
And carefully, she walks over to him, rests a hand on his arm and kisses his cheek, leaving an imprint of her dark pink lipstick. When she pulls back, her smile is just a little cheeky, as if she can pretend there isn't any tention between them, that she doesn't know how uncomfortable her work makes him.]
( It'd be funny, if he could get past that uncomfortable, gripping tension in his chest, the thing that keeps him awake, still, and drags guiltily at his gut, a balloon expanding, tightening, never actually giving him any relief. )
Yup.
( Have fun.
For long moments after she's left, he just lingers at the door, before he's grabbing up his bag and going to one of the safehouses. Atlas can't go in and out of this building.
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N-no one's c-called me um, d-delinquent in ages.
( Because he totally got called that by a scandalized old lady who caught sight of his tattoos, one time. )
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She could cheat with her shifting, but the ritual of these types of things is calming.]
You should wear t-shirts more often.
[Definitely not motivated by self interest, there.]
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( Don't be obnoxious, sir. He wears long sleeve shirts under them, of course. )
Are you g-going out?
( Slouching against the door frame, watching her. She looks really nice. He should tell her that, but also, he definitely shouldn't tell her that. )
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You should wear just t-shirts.
[Honestly, why does she put up with him?]
Just work.
[Well. Not quite, because it's a pre-arranged meeting, something more like a date, but she doesn't want to say that to Donny. She's felt a little awkward about bringing anything like this up, since the mission to the beach.]
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W-what about my jeans?
( Good heavens, Max. Good heavens.
And-- oh. Right, of course. He should've-- he should've figured. Just a silent oh, more swallowed than spoken, nodding a little and he should go away, right? ) You um, l-look really p-pretty.
( "Beautiful" would be the more accurate word, but he doesn't want to make it weird, just wanted to... be supportive. Or something. )
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[But there's a smile in her voice, even if it wavers a little with everything else. She ignores it, focuses on making sure her lipstick is perfect.]
Thank you.
[And she actually turns to look at him for a moment, her smile warm and genuine-looking, despite the fact she's not really sure how she feels about any of this. It's important to make sure he doesn't get too upset or tangled up about this.]
Do you have plans for tonight?
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Nodding, Donny straightens up. )
Atlas.
( Patrolling, protecting. All the normal things a young delinquent gets up to. )
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I should be done by midnight, if you're in my part of town by then, we could walk home together?
[It's... something. An offering, an apology for what she has to do, here.]
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( Protecting Max still comes first. It always will. ) D-definitely, I'll-- um. I'll b-be there.
( He'll wait. If she is too late past midnight, he'll start tearing places apart looking for her. It's just how they look after each other. Max doesn't owe him anything, though, no apologies. He'd hate it, if he knew she felt that way. )
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She finishes up the touches on her make up, then heads back into the apartment to put on her shoes and grab her purse. She's dressed a little nicer than she normally would be, but she hopes Donny won't think too much of it.]
I'll see you tonight?
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And of course he's noticed. Between living together for close to three months, maybe more, and just her being Max, he's familiar with habits, the kind of levels she dresses to, even without having known her so long at home. His expression is just a little more controlled than it used to be. Atlas has to be stoic, has to be in control, and he's becoming Atlas soon.
She doesn't need to see Adonis being stupid. )
Sounds uh, l-like a p-plan.
( Or something. ) B-be careful.
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[Although the point of Atlas is that he shouldn't be careful, if he's helping people, but she's sure he'll understand what she means.
And carefully, she walks over to him, rests a hand on his arm and kisses his cheek, leaving an imprint of her dark pink lipstick. When she pulls back, her smile is just a little cheeky, as if she can pretend there isn't any tention between them, that she doesn't know how uncomfortable her work makes him.]
Have fun.
[After a quick goodbye to Maurice, she's gone.]
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Yup.
( Have fun.
For long moments after she's left, he just lingers at the door, before he's grabbing up his bag and going to one of the safehouses. Atlas can't go in and out of this building.
Have fun. )