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[farcry]

"Grayson. Leave a message."

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[aurad]

( 12:14 am. )

hi
are you awake?

[farcry]

Yeah. Is something wrong?

[aurad]

no, i'm okay
just can't sleep

( nightmares is what she doesn't say, skin still glistening with a clammy sheen, pulse tumbling its way into something a bit calmer. )

did i wake you up?

[farcry]

Nah, I'm awake. Just finishing up some work. What's wrong? Have you tried counting sheep?

[aurad]

i think even the sheep have gotten tired of me.

i get nightmares once in awhile ( i.e., almost nightly. )
sometimes they aren't so bad
others make it difficult to really get much sleep at all

[theotherobin]

you doing ok?

[farcry]

What's up?

[ still not used to Jason vocalizing his care. ]

[theotherobin]

that's not really an answer to my question.

[by now he probably should be, or maybe they just haven't been spending enough time together lately.]

[farcry]

I'm fine. Did you need something? [ they haven't--and he feels horrible about it. ]

[theotherobin]

[he kinda just stares at that question cause it feels like Dick is trying to brush him off in the weirdest kinda way. like he's interrupting something Jason clearly knows nothing about.]

no. i don't need anything. sorry to bother you.

[aurad]

if you're not going to tell me where it is we're going, i think it's only fair you give me an idea of what to wear

( he's been considerably mysterious about it all — and while neither of them were entirely fond of surprises, she recognizes the softness it holds. the notion of grabbing at any semblance of normalcy they could, when they could.

not to mention her closet is mostly filled with warm cotton and lounge clothes. there can't be many places open at this hour those would be suitable for. )

[farcry]

[ he doesn't ever choose to be mysterious--it's something that just happens out of circumstance. in this case, when he said that he doesn't know where they're going, it wasn't out of secrecy, but rather, out of needing more time to do his research. it's not every day that he celebrates valentine's day, not even every year. rach and gar had giggled about it, conner was lost on the idea, and donna was as helpful as she usually was, with a healthy dose of irritating torment. but somehow, they were able to strike a balance--not extravagant, but a quiet sort of upscale, comfortably situated over the harbour.

he know she doesn't have much experience with this sort of dinner date. he doesn't either--maybe a handful when he's wanted a speckle of normalcy, when he's had to pretend by being normal. he wants to show her what it's like.

now, he's only keeping it a secret to follow the momentum the idea has already built up. ]

Something simple and nice. Don't fret. It's not a pretentious place.

[aurad]

kind of easy to say when your entire wardrobe is... well, yours

( simple for dick grayson still managed to gleam with elegance — she'd learned so much on the night she'd met him, a regal hum of a gala whose hush made it still manage to feel comfortable, despite the crowd. his reply doesn't really help her any, tossing another article to the side with a huff as she's left standing in front of an array of creams and blacks that practically glare back at her. )

Simple and nice. Not pretentious. ( she repeats the words back to herself in a mumble, chewing at the edge of her thumb before her gaze catches at a gleam of burgundy, shifting a few coats out of the way to tug out the dress. she'd never worn it — delivered to her along with countless others to choose by stark when an event had called for it. it's soft as a breath, satin gently shimmering as she holds it to her chest, propping a knee to survey where it'd fall. )

what time will you be here?

[farcry]

[ so maybe he doesn’t know how this part works either—the whole telling his date what to wear part. the phone buzzes on a shelf of the walk-in-closet as he does up the buttons on the dress shirt, leaving the top one casually undone as he turns to text her back. ]

Seriously, don’t overthink it. It’s just you and I and I’m already fully impressed.

[ the charcoal dress shirt gets matched with perfectly tailored black trousers and black leather shoes. he doesn’t dress up often, doesn’t enjoy the dressing up part of events, but when they both seem to be on the same page about these things, it feels a little better. ]

A half hour, but I can push it to 45min if you’re ok with speeding. Just no teleporting tonight.

[aurad]

( maybe if the two of them heeded that advice more often — don't overthink it — they'd be much better off, but it's not exactly par for either of their personalities. there's always a flurry of thoughts that follows her, worries glooming overhead. she hadn't always been that way. she likes to think he's made her a little lighter, over time. irregardless, it isn't missed to her that this wasn't something she needed to fret over.

it was something simple. intimate, just for the two of them. they didn't get those evenings very often, and so with a huff of a breath she lets her tension dissolve, lingering a little in the entryway to her closet with a blooming smirk. )

why do i get the feeling you want me to push it just so you have the excuse? ( she can make a half hour work, laying the dress at the foot of her bed and thumbing off one last message before she's peeling layers off— )

i'll be ready. ( purposefully vague — to speed or not to speed, she'll let him decide. )

ooc: hope this is okay

[dawn_is_breaking]

I need to ask you a really big favor.

totes!! ive been mia im sorry

[farcry]

What is it?
Everything ok?

no apology necessary <3

[dawn_is_breaking]

Yes, for the most part everything is great. Being with you again feels wonderful.

[a small pause.]

But there's something I need to do in order to gain closure on what happened to Hank. I need to talk to Jason.

oh its a phone call ok

[farcry]

[ there's a matching pause on his end, and he feels pulled in two opposite directions. ]

What do you need to talk to him about?

sorry! I should have specified.

[dawn_is_breaking]

All of it I guess.
You said that in the end he helped you and the Titans, right?

[aurad]

sprinkling in a little inspiration. + 🎵

( the hearth billows and glowers something inviting in the dining hall, reflecting across used flutes and garland strung between the chairs, painting a familiar, blurred version of a holiday that hasn't been warm in and of itself in quite some time. the lights are dimmed and the chatter is something intimate, boasting of all sorts of things that would encourage most to linger, to stay inside— and yet, throughout the evening she finds her gaze stolen toward the french, double-paned doors that lead to the courtyard, strung neatly with golden light, highlighting the silent snow that'd begun to fall as the night drew in.

wanda understood the need to make appearances, even if it wasn't her strength, too content to whittle away into the background, unheard and with all the more ease to slip away. she isn't missed to the attempt-to-be-hidden glances and the murmurings, though they don't feel unkind— and almost as if on cue to steady her, to reel her back in to herself, the hand at the small of her waist pulls her in the slightest bit more, smooth against maroon satin.

slowly, his voice comes in to focus, as if trying to catch the wisps of what he'd asked, and when she looks up to him he'll know she's a little lost— the gentle bloom of a grateful smile hints at the edge of her lips, still. only for you, she'd agreed, arms folded around his neck the night before.

outside, she thinks he'd said, and the slight lift of his chin toward those grand doors that yawn to the outdoors confirms it. she nods in agreement, a silent plea that isn't born of desperation, but a yearning to be away from prying eyes, to let the crisp winter air bite at their skin. )

[farcry]

[ it's not hard to see her retreating back into herself. the glitter still catches in her eyes, but her gaze drifts to the courtyard longingly. they've been weaving through the scattered groupings of his coworkers and their families for the better part of the dessert hour now, and he's introduced her dozens of times. this is Wanda, he'd say, my girlfriend. and when they'd seem curious, happy for him, and surprised, he'd say I know, I don't usually mix business and work but tonight's so nice, I thought I'd bring her.

the only reason it could be so nice is because of a generous holiday gift from Nightwing, and to avoid the donation from being pocketed somewhere along the way, he'd made it out in the form of a gift card to the harbour club for a SFPD party specifically. it warms his heart to see his co-officers enjoying the night.

and though he knows Wanda enjoys this on some level too, he knows she's here for him. neither of them like being in the public eye like this, and though she seemed present enough for the first part of the evening, he knows the night wears on her. he sees her turning away from the curious glances, and responding to prodding questions a beat too late, so he finds her waist and steps in front of her with a steadying smile, tipping his head outward in the direction of her gaze. ]

Let's go outside. Get some air. [ she nods before he takes her hand and leads them to the doors, a little removed from the larger dining hall. he feels the weight of the brass door handle as he unlatches the door. before pulling it in, he looks up to check that the door would clear the decorations, then notices the little bundle of greenery hung over the threshold of the doorway. the little white berries stand out against the green. he pauses and looks at her, a hand lifting to point up, a smile curling on his mouth. ]

Mistletoe.

[aurad]

( as much as he was that steadying, reverberating force for her, she wants nothing more than to be the same blanket of comfort for him. often times she wishes she were something whole for him, something that never lost that glimmer of energy. it's not that she isn't social, that she isn't able to exude warmth between strangers and those faces she's grown to recognize as being associated with him— it's that as the night draws on, she finds she has less and less of herself to give, stolen away and perhaps still reserved to those she's lost. pietro. vision. billy and tommy. most notably, herself.

his hand bundles her own within it, warm in the way he leads her towards the frost-ridden panes, the voices behind them dissolving to softer murmurings, a soothing thing in and of itself. but he pauses, and when she follows his gaze she spots that little bundle of sprigs and berries hung as if a childlike snare above them.

a slow smile grows across her lips. )

Mm. ( a thoughtful sound, a hint of amusement. she can feel the chill from the outdoors permeating through the door when she turns into him, bracing both palms at his chest, a hint of that spark she'd donned at the start of the evening returning. )

Is that why you've led me over here all alone, Mr. Grayson?

[farcry]

[ warmth soaks into his gaze when she looks at him like that, softening the deep brown of his eyes as he traces her features. he’s observative, always has been, and learning the subtle ways she emotes in different situations have been a pleasure in itself. sometimes, he watches her time-travel, dreaming of a past life he’s still slowly untangling. it’s not that she’s been closed-off, perse, but they’ve both been so careful, so protective of each other and their relationship. and in a setting like tonight, he finds himself wanting to do whatever he can to soothe away the discomfort that must be rearing its head. he’s bringing her into this, and as much as it means to him, to both of them, as much as he’s been truly enjoying it, he feels they’ve spent long enough blurring the pieces of his life he meticulously keeps sorted.

but this, the way she smiles, delicate mouth curled, that simple hummed tone laced with coyish playfulness, feels right. he shakes his head, a chuckle quietly tumbling into the narrowing space between them as he’s drawn in by her hands. ]

You got me. [ his smile widens as he shrugs off the perfectly fitted suit jacket, reaching around to encircle her in it, in him—his warmth, his cologne. he tugs her close by its lapels, then wraps his arms around her waist. his hands smooth against the buttery satin, and when he tips their foreheads together, his voice drops, lowering into intimacy just over the faraway music from the dining room. this conversation is meant for just the two of them, and he can feel the joy of showing her this part of him bleeding into his voice. ]

I’ve been introducing you to everyone all night. Can you blame me for wanting you all to myself now? [ and can she blame him for being impatient? for pressing his lips to her response, kissing away the words to taste her smile? ]

[aurad]

( there's something boyish about him, here and now— maybe it's the lightning, softening his edges and melting the chocolate hue of his gaze, maybe it's the season getting it's gentle teeth into him that way that it does to so many others, or perhaps it's nothing more than the way happiness looks on him, honest and kind. this— this is the version of himself he deserves to keep hold of, that she couldn't dare allow herself to be the reason it ever gets taken away. if she could bottle it, this moment, she would.

he chuckles, and within a beat she's shrouded in his jacket, enrobing her in a sudden balm of heat and that distinct scent she recognizes from burrowing into his chest time and time again. it all whirls around her, almost dizzying. she can't help but to wonder if this stirring, this teeming energy beneath her skin as he winds his hands about her waist, is something like that telltale feeling of coming home after a long day.

they melt into one another when foreheads graze, that smirk still written surely across her lips as she watches him from beneath her lashes, thumbs brushing at each side of his chest. can you blame me? he asks, only the part of her lips is stolen by his affections and the words are hushed to silence instead.

there's something promising to the kiss, in the knowing of their being alone, even if just tucked away from the bodies in the main dining hall. almost as if a tiny spark of a reminder that they would have the evening to themselves later, truly to themselves. her heart swells at the lingerie lying in wait in her bag back at the hotel— all of it, all of this, pulls a honeyed vibration of a hum from the bed of her throat. that very smile he wished to taste is what breaks the connection, but she doesn't stray too far, mouths still close enough that brims stumble when she finally speaks. )

Not even a little bit. ( punctuated by a sweet, brief kiss. ) The idea of you keeping me to yourself sounds much better, actually.