teaspectre | IC CONTACT

[ CRIES INTO HANDS-- No, she's not doing that ~~I AM~~. She's watching him hold her own hands until coaxed upward. She's never been shy of eye contact, but it was still somehow stomach twisting. In a way that wasn't entirely awful.

And yet his confession leaves her almost sympathetic, tsking in that gentle way of hers and giving his chilled fingers a squeeze in return. Had it really been so awful? Not that she didn't think being shoved into Purgatory against her will was anything to be glad about, but having him feel it... It was almost worse than her own issues. So she smiles a little instead, moving just enough to lace fingers with one of his hands. ]

Maybe not Nina. But. [ She takes a breath, not entirely steadying. ] You don't have to worry about it now, alright? I don't want to go anywhere- trust me. I've got you- and a few blooming friends here. And gods, it's Florida. What's not to like?

[ Plus the whole. You know. Being alive, thing. ]

[No, definitely better than Nina. But Mitchell keeps that opinion to himself (for now). It's easy to do when she's got her fingers wound through his. That familiar comforting presence, the press of her hand--even if it lacks its usual chill--that's nearly better than her promise to stay.]

Yeah. I know.

[The whole being alive thing puts a kibbosh on any crossing-over anyways, but, still. He drops his eyes to where their fingers are twisted together.]

Just-- if you start thinking like that. You tell me, all right? [Wryly, he bunches his mouth at the corner, in something very much like a smirk.] I mean, it's only Florida. It's not that great.

I promise.

[ She nods along with it; because honestly, she'd only wanted to leave for fear of being alone again. With Mitchell here ... There was no fear. Not of that. ]

Florida is plenty great. It isn't my fault you can't go out to the beach and tan like the rest of us. Even if you weren't a vampire, I'm sure your Irish skin would burn in an instant, anyway.

[Serious topic sorted (for now, until he's got to sort it again with her, until he talks to Tom McNair and figures out just what the hell is going on around here), Mitchell is more than happy to move on, straight into indignation.]

Wha-at.

[One hand still clasped in hers, he rubs his freer forearm against the table, rucking up his sleeve a little and exposing a patch of skin between the cuff of his glove and the cuff of his shirt.]

Excuse me, does that look like pasty skin t' you? I'd do just fine on a beach. It's George that would turn all red and crispy. I could probably do just fine on a beach here too. It's not like the stories, all that-- hissing, and recoiling.

[ She looks so entirely nonplussed. But in an amused sort of way, even looking down to give a skeptical eye to his 'pasty' skin. Definitely much nicer of a topic to focus on than the poor tasting one of moments prior.

Not that she believes his stance on this new topic, of course. ]

Oh I've no doubt that George would be a tomato within minutes- but you, you are just as white as him. You'd have a red nose and cheeks before we even made it there, mister coat, jacket, gloves and sunglasses in summer.

That's not 'cause of sun burns, Annie, that's--

[With great indignation, still, he shoves his sleeve back down by rubbing his forearm against the edge of the table again.]

Well, I mean, it is. Sort of. It's a vampire thing. Better not t' take the risk, even in the summer. But just to prove you wrong, I will.

[ Oh she knows full well what it's for. She knows vampires don't burst into flames in the sun, but she knows they don't particularly like it, either. ]

Mhm.

... Maybe we should find somewhere to live that isn't in Florida. I mean we've got the whole of America to choose from, don't we? Oh-- What about Washington D.C.?

What's in Washington D.C.?

[Not that he's opposed, just. Seems random. He picks up his mug and swirls around the mostly-cold tea before he takes a sip.]

Really. I'm surprised you didn't suggest-- oh, what's the name of the town. In Twilight.

I dunno... The president? Isn't it the big Capitol or something? There's California- although that's sunny and hot all the time, too, or--

[ Wow, excuse you. ]

... It would be Forks, Washington- and yes, alright I read the first book, but we are not moving there. I like the rain as much as the next Londoner, but a bit of variety can't hurt.

Forks, yeah, that's right-- stupid name for a town-- and California is definitely out, we're not doing that.

[Loads of sun, loads of people. Mitchell chips his thumbnail against the edge of the mug, avoiding Annie's eye for a second.]

Don't you think Washington D.C.'s going t' be a bit-- There's a lot of people there.

There's lots of people everywhere. [ Huff ] But ... No, you're right. It's a bit over populated, last I heard.

I don't know, where would you pick?

I don't know.

[He chips at the edge of his mug again, thoughtfully.]

Somewhere that's more quiet, I guess. Ah, I don't know that much about America, Annie--we could just-- look around. But seriously, just living together would be enough.

[ You know what's really annoying? Having the proper blood flow to actually blush. Not that she does much, considering her skin tone, but it's there nonetheless. Ahem. ]

Well, yeah. I mean obviously we'd find somewhere for the both of us no matter where it is. But I don't really see anything wrong with finding somewhere less populated and a bit cooler. I dunno. We can think about it later. It's not so bad for now- We're at each other's places enough as it is.

I'm surprised our roommates don't think we live together.

They probably do.

[Not that he cares, or even really sees his roommates. Ever since Nick left, there's not been much of a point. Living in the house is just a part of the routine, easier than seeking out someplace new, but Annie's suggestion--

--He knows that he ought to be more wary, that he ought to be thinking of Annie and her suffocating guardian angel routine. Bad for her, and bad for him, too--but that had been in Wales. That had been different. Mitchell had been different there, but here--here, he's not been so bad. Yet is not a word that he thinks, even if he knows that he ought to.

The rationalization is easy to generate, placating and reassuring himself all at once. It's enough that he can smile her, at that slight blush on her cheeks--she's pretty cute--]

So I guess we'd better just move house as soon as we can and save ourselves the trouble of paying two rents, yeah? Less populated and a bit cooler. And cooler, too. Florida's nearly as bad as Wales.

[But not... too cool. That sounds risky. He's already done super-cool rockstar living, and Annie doesn't need any of that anyways, newly alive or not.]

[ She sounds vaguely affronted. Florida is cool, damnit. And although she has yet to reach that stage of Guardian Angel shtick with Mitchell, it isn't like it won't come thundering into the picture should they move in together. ... Possibly. ]

I dunno where we'd move to, but. Yeah, we can find somewhere less hot. I'd say we could move back to England but ... I dunno. I sort of like living in America. For now, at least.

[ok but Florida is not cool]

Yeah? America's not so bad. [That's a fair statement to make. Mitchell gives his tea a swirl and then, finally, sets the mug down. It's gone cold anyways.] And it wouldn't be-- right, living there.

[He doesn't offer a defensive shrug, like he might to someone else. He doesn't have to play at being defensive, because Annie, of all people, will get it. Like he doesn't miss George enough. Like the whole country could be haunted by the ghost of what they'd had there.]

Staying here's all right with me.

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