[He may not be able to see it, but he can feel it. Not in the literal sense, but in the way that sometimes air feels heavy when certain things get said or when certain things don't get said. It makes him sit straighter, the muscles of his shoulders and arms taut]
Can I ask you something? You can say no...
[Obvious but he's now rambling because he's shy]
...could I, um...
[He gestures, bringing up a hand to touch his own face, carefully mapping it out with his fingers to show how he can learn how to read a face by touching it]
[In truth, she'd been about to ask him if he wanted to, but she didn't know if it would be rude or if it would even help anything when he'd been blind all his life anyway.
She nods without realising he can't see it, then makes a small sound of assent and gently takes his wrists, guiding his hands until his forefingers touch her cheekbones.]
[Whistler turns where he's sitting to make the movement more natural, chewing anxiously at the corner of his lip as his fingers settle. They follow the fine curve of her nose to the arch of her brows, and move from their over her forehead and back downward along her temples and drifting further down over her cheeks to her jawline
All the while he seems to be focusing, memorizing silently.]
I don't know how much it means coming from me [he murmurs] but I think you must be very pretty.
[He retracts his hands when he's done, shuffling a bit backwards on the couch to be sure that she feels like she has space.]
[She closes her eyes - just as a precaution - and stays still while he looks at her. Her nose scrunches slightly under his fingers, a smile tugging at her lips when he comes down to her cheeks and jawline.
It's a strange experience, not 'intimate' but 'close' and she holds a giggle in the back of her throat as she opens her eyes to watch him.]
No problem... and thanks. That could have been a real let-down, huh?
[She watches him move, following the motions of his hands and tilting her head to one side. A small smile settles on her face, half warm, half saddened, and the memories of words written in a familiar hand come into her mind.
'For Julie Cabernet, the only light left'.]
You remember when you asked me if I liked you? And that it was a rare thing? ... People are missing out.
[He stands, back straight, but his head lulled to one side, gaze off to one side in the direction of the far side of the room. He doesn't answer right away, but his chest rises and falls with a deep inhale in response to what she says.]
Am....I a jerk if I say I'm ok with them missing out?
[He stays stock still save for one hand that comes up to rub anxiously at a collarbone]
I'm ok with it just being you
[Quality, not quantity, right? But...at the same time he's now realizing something else: That he's scared of the idea that she might not be there tomorrow.
Shyly he clears his throat and finally turns in her direction]
You're not the boss of me. [She puffs back, but she stretches out on the couch and curls one arm under her head, shuffling to make herself comfortable.]
And... no, you're not a jerk. If you're okay with it being just me... I guess I can't argue with that.
Bleh, no. [Julie grumbles. There's a soft thud, then another as she toes off her sandals and lets them fall on the floor, followed by a short silence before she adds--]
[Sort of. When she's comfortable, at least, she can sleep through a lot. She watches what he's doing through half-closed eyes, not even aware of just when it is that she falls asleep.]
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Bright. Warm. But one of those lights that moves a lot. I've heard fireflies move like that.
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Yeah... yeah, they do. [Her voice is soft, and she shifts to tuck one side of her hair behind her ear.] That's really sweet, Irwin.
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Can I ask you something? You can say no...
[Obvious but he's now rambling because he's shy]
...could I, um...
[He gestures, bringing up a hand to touch his own face, carefully mapping it out with his fingers to show how he can learn how to read a face by touching it]
...Could I?
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She nods without realising he can't see it, then makes a small sound of assent and gently takes his wrists, guiding his hands until his forefingers touch her cheekbones.]
... Knock yourself out.
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All the while he seems to be focusing, memorizing silently.]
I don't know how much it means coming from me [he murmurs] but I think you must be very pretty.
[He retracts his hands when he's done, shuffling a bit backwards on the couch to be sure that she feels like she has space.]
Thanks.
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It's a strange experience, not 'intimate' but 'close' and she holds a giggle in the back of her throat as she opens her eyes to watch him.]
No problem... and thanks. That could have been a real let-down, huh?
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[He shakes his head]
You couldn't have let me down. Not like that.
[Then in his usual awkward way he starts moving to get off the couch, feeling his way with his hands]
Like I said, you're a firefly.
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'For Julie Cabernet, the only light left'.]
You remember when you asked me if I liked you? And that it was a rare thing? ... People are missing out.
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Am....I a jerk if I say I'm ok with them missing out?
[He stays stock still save for one hand that comes up to rub anxiously at a collarbone]
I'm ok with it just being you
[Quality, not quantity, right? But...at the same time he's now realizing something else: That he's scared of the idea that she might not be there tomorrow.
Shyly he clears his throat and finally turns in her direction]
You should sleep
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And... no, you're not a jerk. If you're okay with it being just me... I guess I can't argue with that.
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You want a blanket?
[Normally he'd just give her one without asking, but given the heat he's not sure that that wouldn't be more of a cruelty than a kindness]
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My shoes are on the floor. Just so you know.
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I'm going to be right here if you need anything. Just tell me if I'm being too loud.
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[Sort of. When she's comfortable, at least, she can sleep through a lot. She watches what he's doing through half-closed eyes, not even aware of just when it is that she falls asleep.]