( quinn ends up falling partly on gideon but he can't be mad –– firstly, he deserves it, and secondly, she's light as a feather so it hardly matters. all he can do is laugh, lay halfway trapped beneath her but not quite minding it, his free arm reaching up so he can rub the watery remains of her snow arsenal from his eyes and along his jaw. his hat and the hood of his sweatshirt are soaked, the wetness beginning to seep down towards his back underneath his leather jacket. )
So I've been told. ( gideon says through laughter, struggling to catch his breath. he's not exactly as agile as he was fifteen years ago, though he'd be hard pressed to admit it. laying in the snow like this with her, he feels practically like a kid again. not that he was ever one for simple pleasures like this back then. better late than never, right?
( it's a long few seconds before quinn manages to recover her own breath; from the fall, from her apparent inability to stop laughing. for as much as she complained about the title when he first hung it on her, quinn does actually realize that she has the tendency to be a little uptight. a little controlling. she knows now who she is, point a, and has an evolving but still fairly set idea of point b, or where she wants to be. it's the line between them she can't figure out, but it doesn't involve things like this. acting like an oversized kid with a (somewhat) charming irish guy she doesn't actually know all that well.
maybe it ought to tell her something, that she hasn't laughed this much in ages. not genuinely, at least. instead she figures maybe a little pitstop on the road to success isn't such a bad thing. ) Good.
( the word is muffled faintly by her coat as she shifts to the side. partially so he can actually breathe (light as a feather my ass), but mostly so she can actually tip her head back enough to look at him. possibly a mistake, she nearly breaks into a fresh round of laughter at the partially melted snow dripping off his cheeks and clinging to his lashes. ) You look like you got jumped by Frosty.
( not that she probably looks much better. her hat lies a foot or so away, lost in their little tumble and wet platinum strands cling to cheeks flushed as much from their battle as from the cold. reaching out a hand, armed only with the best of intentions to help him clean himself up, she instead tugs his hood down over his face with a wicked grin, before pushing herself into a sitting position. no other move is made to get up just yet, though.
whatever this is, she isn't quite ready to leave this moment in time. ) That was pretty sneaky, though. I'll have to remember to keep an eye on you. ( the words are a little clipped at the end, as if she wasn't quite finished there, but cut herself short. next time. she almost said 'next time'. )
Frosty wouldn't know how to handle me, love. ( gideon says with a breath of laughter, self-consciously wiping his face against the arm of his leather jacket.
it's true that quinn doesn't quite look as perfectly primped as she tends to look, blonde locks mussed and a bit wet, but gideon finds it to be pretty endearing, actually. finds it to be a lot of things that he probably shouldn't say. the way a few flakes of snow seem to drift through the air, even still, the sky a stark grey, give the girl who leans above him a regal type of air. he did refer her as a saint in a text once (he thinks, anyways; he was quite knackered that night), which isn't too far off from the visual of her in the snow in this moment.
... except now she's tugged his hood down over his face, left him in the dark and only quietly mumbling a single profanity under his breath. when the hood is at last removed to reveal her oh so pleased looking face, he quirks an amused eyebrow at her, propping himself up on his elbow. ) Good luck with that one. I've got a lot more tricks up me sleeves.
( at some point, she probably ought to stand up. they both ought to, but as per usual, quinn is her own primary concern. if her jeans were damp from hurried snow angels, they're not soaked almost entirely through, and the longer she sits unmoving, the easier the cold is able to sink in, making her teeth chatter faintly. a sound quickly stopped when she glances back at him, chin resting on her shoulder and genuinely pleased grin still firmly in place.
so this is what fun feels like. she had almost forgotten. )
When you say it like that, it makes it sound like you're going to pull a rabbit out of a hat. ( and honestly, at this point, she wouldn't be surprised if that was his next move. it seems like he's done a little bit of everything, tried everything. why not that too?
with a muffled groan, she stretches for her fallen hat, squealing faintly when her coat rides up just enough for a fresh drift of snow to hit her back. probably should have seen that coming though.
shoving the hat into her coat pocket (because HA what's the point now?) she shifts onto her knees in the snowbank, holding one mittened hand out to him. refraining from pulling his hood down again, even though it's tempting. just to see how he'd react this time. ) Come on. You don't think Frosty can handle you, but I want to see if you can handle Frosty.
Nah, I'm savin' that one for the next time I feel the need to impress you. ( he teases, tugging his own hat off his head and waving it around as though to shake out any spare bunny rabbits. rest assured, gideon's small mammal-free. animal cruelty isn't quite his style.
the beanie is shoved in his jacket pocket, hand lingering there as he catches a glimpse of the pale skin of her back -- immediately pelted with snow, bringing forth a full on belly laugh from gideon as he pushes himself into a sitting position. there's something so utterly undignified about the two of them laying here, the snow absolutely making them its bitch, and yet they don't really seem to do anything about it. gideon's certain that he likes this side of quinn just a tad more than the grace and poise she typically wears so well.
he glances up at her and her outstretched hand quite skeptically. tries to weigh his options. this could be another trap, after all. and even still, he's gideon fucking fletcher and he's not afraid of now't. certainly not a beautiful, snow-covered blonde.
with that, he takes that mittened hand of hers in his own bare one, allows her to help him to his feet. adds, as he brushes the loose snow off the back of his wet corduroys: ) Seems a bit unfair to Frosty, doesn't it? I've got a considerable size advantage here.
( it's this unrestrained or, at least, less restrained side of quinn that most people seem to prefer, including quinn herself. which just makes it that much more baffling that it's the side she most represses. traps behind the walls built to protect herself, the mask of perfection that's become so much a part of her life she's no longer sure how, or if it can be gotten rid of for good.
that she's choosing to reveal this side of herself now says more about her level of comfort with him than even giving him a place to stay does. it's no small feat for her to let her guard down this way. )
I must have missed the part where you were trying to impress me to begin with. ( unless it was the night they met, at which point he was far from subtle. an over-confident and only faintly charming irishman who refused to leave her alone for most of the night. it would have been simple to get him to go away, she had considered it even then. give him the dance he kept asking for and blow him off like so many others before. but it was so much more entertaining to refuse and watch him re-double his efforts.
watching him attempt to clean himself up somewhat, biting at her bottom lip, she crouches to scoop up another snowball. weighing it in one soaked mitten and debating. it would be so easy to...- and then he looks up and she's all innocence again. smiling brightly, and in no way suspicious. unless you've met her, in which case... ) I'm not sure size has any bearing when we're talking about a magical snowman.
( snowball still in hand -in a totally nonthreatening way!- she takes a shuffling half-step towards him. ) Or are you just trying to make excuses to go back inside because you can't handle the snow?
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Date: 2015-01-29 04:42 am (UTC)So I've been told. ( gideon says through laughter, struggling to catch his breath. he's not exactly as agile as he was fifteen years ago, though he'd be hard pressed to admit it. laying in the snow like this with her, he feels practically like a kid again. not that he was ever one for simple pleasures like this back then. better late than never, right?
quickly, he adds: ) Quite recently, actually.
no subject
Date: 2015-01-29 07:00 am (UTC)maybe it ought to tell her something, that she hasn't laughed this much in ages. not genuinely, at least. instead she figures maybe a little pitstop on the road to success isn't such a bad thing. ) Good.
( the word is muffled faintly by her coat as she shifts to the side. partially so he can actually breathe (light as a feather my ass), but mostly so she can actually tip her head back enough to look at him. possibly a mistake, she nearly breaks into a fresh round of laughter at the partially melted snow dripping off his cheeks and clinging to his lashes. ) You look like you got jumped by Frosty.
( not that she probably looks much better. her hat lies a foot or so away, lost in their little tumble and wet platinum strands cling to cheeks flushed as much from their battle as from the cold. reaching out a hand, armed only with the best of intentions to help him clean himself up, she instead tugs his hood down over his face with a wicked grin, before pushing herself into a sitting position. no other move is made to get up just yet, though.
whatever this is, she isn't quite ready to leave this moment in time. ) That was pretty sneaky, though. I'll have to remember to keep an eye on you. ( the words are a little clipped at the end, as if she wasn't quite finished there, but cut herself short. next time. she almost said 'next time'. )
LMAO this one got lost in my inbox somehow... whoops
Date: 2015-03-01 07:13 am (UTC)it's true that quinn doesn't quite look as perfectly primped as she tends to look, blonde locks mussed and a bit wet, but gideon finds it to be pretty endearing, actually. finds it to be a lot of things that he probably shouldn't say. the way a few flakes of snow seem to drift through the air, even still, the sky a stark grey, give the girl who leans above him a regal type of air. he did refer her as a saint in a text once (he thinks, anyways; he was quite knackered that night), which isn't too far off from the visual of her in the snow in this moment.
... except now she's tugged his hood down over his face, left him in the dark and only quietly mumbling a single profanity under his breath. when the hood is at last removed to reveal her oh so pleased looking face, he quirks an amused eyebrow at her, propping himself up on his elbow. ) Good luck with that one. I've got a lot more tricks up me sleeves.
buried in the tagvalanche
Date: 2015-03-02 06:25 am (UTC)so this is what fun feels like. she had almost forgotten. )
When you say it like that, it makes it sound like you're going to pull a rabbit out of a hat. ( and honestly, at this point, she wouldn't be surprised if that was his next move. it seems like he's done a little bit of everything, tried everything. why not that too?
with a muffled groan, she stretches for her fallen hat, squealing faintly when her coat rides up just enough for a fresh drift of snow to hit her back. probably should have seen that coming though.
shoving the hat into her coat pocket (because HA what's the point now?) she shifts onto her knees in the snowbank, holding one mittened hand out to him. refraining from pulling his hood down again, even though it's tempting. just to see how he'd react this time. ) Come on. You don't think Frosty can handle you, but I want to see if you can handle Frosty.
no subject
Date: 2015-03-02 07:15 am (UTC)the beanie is shoved in his jacket pocket, hand lingering there as he catches a glimpse of the pale skin of her back -- immediately pelted with snow, bringing forth a full on belly laugh from gideon as he pushes himself into a sitting position. there's something so utterly undignified about the two of them laying here, the snow absolutely making them its bitch, and yet they don't really seem to do anything about it. gideon's certain that he likes this side of quinn just a tad more than the grace and poise she typically wears so well.
he glances up at her and her outstretched hand quite skeptically. tries to weigh his options. this could be another trap, after all. and even still, he's gideon fucking fletcher and he's not afraid of now't. certainly not a beautiful, snow-covered blonde.
with that, he takes that mittened hand of hers in his own bare one, allows her to help him to his feet. adds, as he brushes the loose snow off the back of his wet corduroys: ) Seems a bit unfair to Frosty, doesn't it? I've got a considerable size advantage here.
no subject
Date: 2015-03-04 04:55 am (UTC)that she's choosing to reveal this side of herself now says more about her level of comfort with him than even giving him a place to stay does. it's no small feat for her to let her guard down this way. )
I must have missed the part where you were trying to impress me to begin with. ( unless it was the night they met, at which point he was far from subtle. an over-confident and only faintly charming irishman who refused to leave her alone for most of the night. it would have been simple to get him to go away, she had considered it even then. give him the dance he kept asking for and blow him off like so many others before. but it was so much more entertaining to refuse and watch him re-double his efforts.
watching him attempt to clean himself up somewhat, biting at her bottom lip, she crouches to scoop up another snowball. weighing it in one soaked mitten and debating. it would be so easy to...- and then he looks up and she's all innocence again. smiling brightly, and in no way suspicious. unless you've met her, in which case... ) I'm not sure size has any bearing when we're talking about a magical snowman.
( snowball still in hand -in a totally nonthreatening way!- she takes a shuffling half-step towards him. ) Or are you just trying to make excuses to go back inside because you can't handle the snow?