gaaaaay | (no subject)

Entry tags:

haruka,
michiru

(no subject)

[ Monday afternoon. they've had enough time to recover from their latest training session -- Haruka's back is just a little sore -- and she supposes she did promise, or at least, allude to being willing to consider it.

so here she is in Michiru's apartment again, still unchanged from her school uniform, bag slung over her shoulder, about to have her portrait painted. she didn't really feel any particular need to do herself up for the occasion, and maybe she should have, but hey-- if Michiru expected that much of her, she should've gone ahead and said it.

Haruka glances around. not uncertain, of course, just unfamiliar with the workings of this whole thing. ]

So, how are we going to do this?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ It's nice, having an excuse to see Haruka that wouldn't end with them both bruised and heaving. If held at gunpoint, Michiru would admit that she had been the tiniest bit antsy about this - she had been careful to make sure that the apartment was extra tidy.

She can see the unease in Haruka's stance that she's uncomfortable, and it's hard to keep from smiling at that. ]

If you'd just relax in the window seat over there.

[ Michiru tips her head over to the cushioned seat, a gentle smile on her face. ]

I'd appreciate it.

Sure. [ Michiru's apartment looked flawless enough the last time she'd seen it, so any and all differences escape Haruka's notice. she strides over to the seat, sets her bag down besides it, and assumes the same sitting position she normally would: back straight, but not rigidly so, one leg crossed over the other, hands resting loosely over her thighs. ] This okay?

[ Michiru's movements are light, breezy, as she starts to work on her paints. ]

As long as you're in a position that's comfortable. You're going to have to hold it for a while.

Right, then. [ Haruka settles further into her seat, letting out a breath. she can feel herself getting preemptively impatient. ] How long will it take?

A few hours, probably. Do you have somewhere to be?

[ She leans to the side to peer around the easel at Haruka. ]

Nah, I made sure to keep the whole day free. [ the corner of her lips quirks up, lightly teasing. ] Will you make me dinner?

[ She can't help but smile at that, twisting to look at her canvas in an attempt to hide it. ]

Would that be alright? I was planning on it, actually.

What? [ a laugh ] When you put it like that, you make it sound like I'm doing you a favor.

You are doing me a favor. Now, are you comfortable? I'm going to start painting now.

[ she shakes her head through a small sigh, but knows better than to argue over things like this, by now. ] Yeah, go ahead.

[ Michiru just smiles, then, starting to paint. She can't help it: she's playing a little game with Haruka, seeing how long she can stay absolutely quiet before Haruka moves or talks or something. ]

[ Haruka watches Michiru as she paints, the movements of her hands: graceful and fluid and natural, like the brush is an extension of her arm. even without being able to see what she's drawing, it's already impressive, though she doesn't voice that thought.

silence fills the air between them, but not uncomfortably so. the afternoon sun pouring in from the window behind her dyes the room a warm orange. it's... nice, but somehow makes Haruka feel a little restless. (no, definitely not nervous.) she never had a problem keeping still and quiet when she needed to, during long formal meals and tea ceremonies, but with Michiru, she finds that it suddenly becomes difficult.

because it feels like she knows her. she knows her warmth against her side, the force behind her fist when it connects with her stomach, the shadow her lashes cast over her eyes when she wants to say something but is stopping herself. but it feels like she still doesn't know anything about her, beyond the very outline of who she is. and while they're still able to take the time to relax like this, while it's still not too late, she wants to learn.

so yeah, Haruka's losing that game. ]

-- Hey.

[ she's making an effort not to move much beyond her mouth, at least. ]

[ This little painting session is more comfortable than she realized it would be. Natural, maybe, even; Haruka is the perfect subject, and Michiru is able to paint out the lines of her face and her body as if she's known them her whole life.

She pauses at Haruka's words, not answering immediately. Instead, she lowers her brush and lightly rubs her hands against the front of her skirt, before ducking around to look curiously at the other girl. ]

What is it?

[ a small frown tugs on Haruka's lips. she is, admittedly, a bit embarrassed at having Michiru's attention on her like that. she doesn't really have anything important to say -- it certainly doesn't require Michiru stopping. ]

... It's fine if I talk, right?

Of course.

[ She's left smiling in the face of the frown, wondering what has her wanting to talk. ]

Is something wrong? Are you uncomfortable?

No, it's fine. [ though she is feeling kind of awkward now. ] You didn't have to stop.

[ Michiru just giggles to herself, though it's a guarded, shuttered sort of sound. And then she's ducking back behind the easel, starting to paint again. ]

My apologies.

[ Haruka lets out a silent breath of relief, and after a moment's pause, has evidently collected herself enough to ask: ] When's your birthday?

[ she makes it sound perfectly casual, of course, but she's honestly glad Michiru's focus is on the painting as she says it. ]

[ And that is the absolute last question she was expecting Haruka to ask. Maybe 'where's your washroom' or 'do you mind if I stretch my legs,' but not 'when's your birthday.' She feels a little odd sharing that information.. but she's painting her, isn't she? This is more than just a strictly business partnership now. ]

March sixth. [ She doesn't look up at her, focuses instead on her paint. ] And yours?

[ well, that went over without incident -- 'incident' in which case referring to Michiru stopping to look up at her from her drawing with a quizzically raised brow, or laughing again. Haruka can feel her usual confidence returning. that was a stupid thing to get worked up about, anyway. ] January twenty-seventh.

[ a beat. ] Favorite food?

[ She pauses, then laughs softly, her tone clearly amused. ]

Sashimi. Why do you ask?

[ Haruka huffs, though it's lighthearted. guess it was too soon to be relieved, she thinks, but somehow hearing Michiru laugh doesn't bother her as much as she thought it would. ]

Because I want to know. Is that bad?

Not at all. They just seemed like odd questions to ask.

[ There's a content hum in her voice, though, all of her attentions on the painting. ]

Your favorite car?

If you don't like them, you're welcome to tell me whatever you think would be better. [ she raises her eyebrows in a mock-challenge. ]

The Ferrari 512M. [ though she'd be surprised if that meant much to Michiru at all. ]

[ She hasn't the faintest clue. Then again, she wouldn't expect Haruka to know the difference between types of paintbrushes, either. ]

It sounds nice. And it's not that I dislike them! They're just very.. curious to me.