apathy's like a wound in salt. [torrence]

Write the recipe down? He frowned at the thought, immediately disliking the idea that she was going to be making it at some distant point in the future at her own place, without him, perhaps for some other guy. Nope, he didn't like that idea at all so he just grunted a noise in response that was both noncommittal and condescending.

The party continued as she pointed at his busted face, smirking as she claimed no fault in this. He gritted his teeth and fumed silently, trying not to recall too much of the anger that had propelled him to Grimli otherwise he would get all worked up again. Or maybe, he thought, she was trying to rile him on purpose as she brought up White again. He could only guess exactly what she meant by 'not a great conversationalist' and Torr did not want to think about all the things they could have done while not talking.  "Quit trying to rile me," Torr said quietly with a glare as he crossed his arms in front of him and then winced as both his shoulder screamed in pain and his ribs complained with the movement. He hastily gave up that stance before they made it into the bathroom.

"Don't," he said as he caught her reaching for the other bottle and he sighed as she obviously didn't listen to him. He was ready to deny anything she assumed right away, but he kept quiet, wondering, hoping she wouldn't put it together. He wasn't even sure himself why he made it, that bottle of essential oils that he added to baths or with a diffusion charm as he showered that was modeled after her perfume. His skin felt tight on his bones, exposed, at the thought that she might put two and two together.

He was grateful that she didn't say anything and he silently undressed, catching her gaze as he shucked off his pants. Torr slapped her hand away lightly with a hard look. He wasn't an invalid, he thought mulishly, sucking in a hard breath as he sank into the hot water, groaning as he got settled as he brought a hand to his ribs as if that would quell the sharp pain. He shook his head at her as he gingerly leaned back against the slope of the tub, his neck resting on the lip as he closed his eyes for a moment. Silence cropped up between them, only the stream of water still filling the tub and distant noise from the city out the window hanging in the room.

Turning his head to look at her sitting next to the tub, Torr paused. He hated asking for help and yet for things like this he usually stopped by Nessa's to ask for her assistance. Why was it different with Perdy though. He wasn't sure, it was just gut instinct. "I will if you get in with me," he offered quietly as he met her gaze, wondering if she would, after everything that had happened between them tonight.

He let out a noise and Perdita arched her brows in question. What a strange response. "No?" She asked, just to make sure, before she rolled her eyes. "Fine," she huffed, arms folded, taking pleasure in the fact that she could cross her arms but Torrence was struggling to do the same. Anyway, it was basically a roast dinner. She could put a chicken in the oven and boil some potatoes. She couldn't believe it. First, he'd annoyed her into getting a tattoo and now he was annoying her into becoming domesticated. Outrageous.

Her eyebrows rose even further as Torrence continued his tirade. "Why do you care?" Perdy threw back at him. It wasn't tit-for-tat, Torrence had some sort of issue with her. He'd made it very clear that he didn't want her at his home but she was too stubborn to leave. It wasn't like he hadn't been out and fucked half of London (and Dublin) so the fact that he had his nose pushed out of joint by an event that happened years ago was just silly to her.

"Don't be so sensitive," Perdita tutted, echoing the words he'd used against her some weeks before. Out of spite (and curiosity) she sniffed the little vial again. It did smell very familiar. She held the bottle up to the light to see the pale pink colour as she gave it a little shake, admiring the way it seemed to shimmer.

"I like this," she stated, almost in a compliment. Her bright eyes looked around to see if there were any duplicates that she could steal. She sniffed it again before the penny dropped. Putting the bottle down, she then sniffed the inside of her wrist and frowned in confusion. Without saying anything, her eyes slid to Torrence, her eyes narrowed slightly. She hoped he was being cute and was making her some sort of complimentary bath foam and not being a complete creeper. "Ah," she concluded before she put the bottle down and scratched the back of her neck.
 
She simply sighed as he rebuffed her help and she resigned to watch him moan and groan as he got into the bath. He should really have gone to the hospital, like a normal person. The sound of the city drifted in on the breeze as they settled, only for his comment to catch her off guard and it caused her to laugh.

"Sorry, what?" Perdy asked in disbelief. "Did you get the sense knocked out of you as well?" She smirked, raking a hand through her hair. She hesitated. Baths were romantic, this was not. Torrence was also a fucking mess so the chances of them doing anything were pretty slim.

Eventually, she stood, slipping out of her silk shirt as she hung it on the back of the bathroom door. "Why do I have to be naked before you listen to me?" Perdita muttered as she stepped out of her trousers, underwear left on the floor before she decided to finally step into the other end of the bath. She sank under the water, her legs pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped around them as she rested her chin on her knees before she blinked.

The water was warm, comfortable for the pair of them as she shifted her body to give him more room. She wiggled her toes, one hand coming down to the water to scoop up a handful of bubbles before she blew them at him. "This is nice," she told Torrence sarcastically with a shake of her head. His bruises somehow looked even worse when they were wet but she bit on her tongue to stop herself from saying anything. This was a fragile truce. "So," she began, softly. "Can you pass me the soap?" She joked.

A muscle in his jaw ticked as she told him not to be so 'sensitive' but he watched her even as he tried to look like he wasn't. When she smelled the inside of her wrist, Torr knew she knew. His gaze met hers, unapologetic. He wondered if she would take back her compliment now. "I just like the smell," he said casually. Don't read too much into it. Another lie he told himself.

Torr just shrugged at her question and instantly regretted it. He really had to stop forgetting that his shoulder was all sorts of fucked up. The way she raised her brows at him almost made him smile though. Almost. "As if you don't prefer being naked with me," he retorted, watching her as she undressed, her clothes slithering to the floor, his eyes running up her legs as she stepped into the water with him. He parted his legs a little so she had room. The water level rising just a tad as she sank beneath, limbs all curled up in a neat little package. He reached out a hand without thought, running over her forearm and and across her fingers before sliding back into the water. She felt far away.

Nice? Torr rolled his eyes for her benefit. "Too bad we didn't bring the wine," he attempted at a joke, remembering the last time they were in a bath together, in her flat, with a rather large bottle of wine. His eyes darkened at the memories, but with the way he was feeling, he sadly didn't see that in the cards for tonight. At least not unless she healed him. Speaking of.

He laid a hand on her forearm again, his busted knuckles red and angry, stinging each time he gripped something or straightened his fingers. A familiar pain, but with all his other injuries tonight, it wasn't a reminder he needed to keep. "Start with this," he said, meeting her gaze, waiting for her to heal them.

Torrence said he liked the smell and Perdita nodded accordingly, a funny little expression on her face. "I would have just sprayed your tee shirt with perfume before you left," she offered absently. It would deter other women, a modern day equivalent of a cat peeing on a fence to mark their territory. She blinked. She supposed it was romantic, in a messed up kind of way.

She eyed the bottle, wondering if she should just take it with her? It must have been a lot of work. The scents weren't identical - Torr's was a bit more punchier, but to anyone who wasn't familiar with the smell, they were indistinguishable. He should think about being a perfumer, if he ever decided to stop fucking about with illegal things and creepy people.

Perdita scoffed. "Being naked at any point in time is optimal," she replied primly with a shrug. It was no use in denying it - she liked him a lot better when he wasn't wearing any clothing. As though suddenly aware of his state of undress, her eyes slid down his chest before she paused at the hand on her arm. Perdita stilled, all of the fight knocked out of her as her eyes dropped to his bruised hand. She swallowed nervously. They didn't do this. The soft touches. She had conveniently forgotten that she'd stroked Torrence's hair often as of late, but thankfully, he removed his hand and she offered him a quick smile.

"That would be nicer," she quipped with a playful shake of her head. Did he have a wine cellar? The flat was big enough but he preferred spirits. Avoiding his eye, she rested her chin on one of her knees as she watched him. This was a mess. She felt like she was getting whiplash from all the back of forth they were doing. Perdy had liked that bath and she blamed the temperature of the water she was sitting in for the blush on her cheeks.

He touched her again and she was forced to examine his hand. It looked terrible, the skin split and the blood felt tacky. Trying her best not to dislodge him, Perdita blindly reached for her wand that was on the bathroom floor. She waved her wand in a complicated twisting motion, watching with interest as his skin stretched to close the wounds and the bruises slowly began to disappear.

She took his hand in hers. "Make a fist," she said to Torrence, her fingers wrapping around his wrist to support his arm. "Flex," she went on, asking him to straighten out his fingers and nodded in satisfaction. "How's the pain?" The tall witch enquired as she slid her fingers along the underside of his wrist to his palm, holding it up to her face for closer inspection. "Looks alright," she stated vaguely. After all, she wasn't a Healer. All Perdy had really ever done was fix herself up after her childhood horse - Napoleon Ponyparte - had kicked out at her when she was braiding his mane when she was eight.

Perdita placed a chaste kiss on the back of his now-healed hand before she left it resting on her knee, wordlessly reaching out to take his other. "What's next?" She added after she'd cleared her throat. "Face or shoulder? Same time? Like pulling off a plaster?" She joked.

Her offer to spray his shirt was met stonily. Shit. Of course she had figured it out. She was infinitely smarter than him in many ways, he just wished this hadn't been one of them. He thought she was going to say something else as her gaze slid to the bottle, maybe call him out on it or something, but she seemed quieter than usual. More reserved even as she got naked and joined him in the bath. Her actions were at odds with each other and Torr wasn't quite sure how to decipher it. Not that he had the energy to do that.

"Agreed," he said with a small quirk of his brows before he grimaced as it sent a stinging pain across his forehead because of his cuts. He really was a dumbass waiting this long to heal the little cuts, especially with all the suggestive or sarcastic expressions he wanted to give her.

Torr watched her as she watched him. Taking her in with an unrepentant appraisal as the warmth of the water worked at his sore muscles. Steam from the bath made her hair wilt but she had this softness to her that he wasn't used to. Sharing a bath tub wasn't really new to them, except maybe that it was his bath instead of hers, but somehow it still felt like new territory. And while pushing the boundaries had always thrilled him, feeding on it like a wolf running under the moonlight, he also felt like he was walking a line and it was too fucking exhausting.

He was glad for the distraction when she reached for his wand and he felt the trickle and then the sting of her magic as she healed his knuckles. He sucked in a deep breath as he felt his skin stitching itself back together. But he kept his gaze more on her, watching as she studied his hands, doing as she said when she turned bossy with a heavy sigh. "Manageable," he said about the pain. His knuckles were the least of his concerns, all things considered and he had felt the zipping pain of healing more times than he could count.

He shouldn't have been impressed by her results, but he was. He was about to snark a comment about it, but he stilled as she kissed the back of his hand, his chest feeling tight, as he rested his healed hand on her knee and squeezed lightly. Giving her his other hand, this one a little worse being his dominant hand, he almost smiled at her joke. She would really be punishing him if she tried to do both at the same time. He probably deserved it, but he, for once, gave her a simple answer. "Maybe the shoulder," he told her. It wouldn't completely heal, he knew that, given he had a nagging pain there for years that would never vanish with magic, but at least she could probably magic away most of the pain.

Perdita wasn't offended that he'd recreated her perfume. Weirded out a little, sure, but not angry. The question begged why? but she daren't ask it. Torrence had said simply that he'd liked the smell. If it had been anyone else, she might have thought it sweet. Romantic. A really nice idea but when it came to him, there was always a calculated reason. She let it go, deciding instead to wave it off. She didn't want another fight. They couldn't have a casual conversation.

"Another time, maybe," she said swiftly with a smile. Now wasn't the time. He hadn't even apologised for storming out and annoying her earlier that day. Perdy had said sorry but she thought she was owed an apology, too. It was heavy, all this emotional stuff. She didn't want any of it.

"Sorry," Perdita whispered at Torrence's flinch. The spell was over in seconds but she couldn't imagine it was a pleasant experience. He did as he was told (for once) and she examined the motions carefully. He needed to go to the hospital or to see his sister. Why he hadn't done either, she'd never know. His pain was "manageable" and she cracked a smile. "Rave reviews," she joked. "I'll pop that on my business card and besides," she went on as she took his other hand as she began to repeat the same spell. "You'll be taking bliss, so you'll be right as rain in no time."

Perdita loathed that he took drugs but it was just the tip of the iceberg. The less she knew, the safer things would be. If she actually found out what Torrence did when unsupervised, she'd be guilty by association.

His hands were fixed and she gently ran the pad of her index finger over one of his knuckles, just to check. She looked up to catch Torrence's eye before it slid to his shoulders. It looked swollen. It didn't look quite right. Perdy didn't think her knowledge of spells would do much but maybe enough so that he'd be able to sleep on his side tonight without much complaint.

She took a quick breath to steady herself as she scooted closer, a hand running over his injured shoulder, her touch feather light. "I still hate that tattoo," she informed Torrence, gesturing to the skull on his chest, just below the shoulder she was about to fix. It was a bone of contention between them, it always had. She liked his tattoos, he'd even annoyed her into getting one of her own, but that wasn't the point. The point was that she really shouldn't be here.

Without warning, Perdita pressed the tip of her wand against his skin and watched as the spell sent a ripple over his shoulder, slowly, a turquoise blue colour. It spread down his arm and over his shoulder blade, the bruises disappearing in its wake, her eyes following the progress. It travelled across his ribs without her meaning to and she leaned back, careful not to get caught in the waves as it healed his joints. She was quiet for a moment, her eyes wide - it had actually worked.

"How's that?" She asked him, her body nestled between his thighs as she tilted her head. Quickly, she offered him a sunny smile. "Cool," she announced, allowing herself time to bask in the glory of a job well done. Her hand was still on Torrence's shoulder before she realised what she was doing and she quickly removed it, clearing her throat. "So," Perdy said briskly as she attempted to scoot backwards to give him some room. "You're all good now?"

Another time? No, hell no. He wouldn't be leaving that bottle out again, just in case she stopped over. But hell he hated having to hide things in his own flat. Fuck. This was exhausting. He scrubbed his healed hand over his face, belatedly realizing his cuts were still there and feeling the sting of them as he touched them and then dropped his hand back to the water. Whatever, she already knew. What did it matter now.

"It's fine," he said just as lowly at her apology and that was mostly the truth. He didn't mind the pain so much as the prickle of awareness that she was the only one to heal him other than Ness in.. what felt like forever. Perdy, at least, didn't bitch at him about how stupid he was while she healed him like Ness did. Although, the edge he heard in her voice as she mentioned bliss made him think she was just holding back. "You can have some too, you know," he said speaking of the party potion he made himself, even though he could already guess at her answer. Even though he didn't really like the idea of her glassy eyed and looking like he did. She was better than that, he knew it.

Her touch felt feather light against his hand and he gazed at her as she came closer, his hands slipping under the water to run up her calves. Her hands on his injured shoulder were light and made him wary, but didn't stop the crooked smirk from appearing as she mentioned her 'favorite' tattoo. "Thought he was your favorite, Red," he murmured, knowing exactly which one she was complaining about like she always did. He had threatened a time or two to ink an exact replica of the art on her, had even dragged her to a tattoo shop once with a few dastardly ideas of designs she would most definitely hate and one she wouldn't, but she had backed out before he could decide.

He had something on the tip of his tongue, a witty, sarcastic comment, but at the press of her wand, his eyes widened in alarm as a ripple of magic fell over him in sharp crashing waves. He cursed loudly, his palm slapping the water before he shackled one of her wrists for something to hold on to, his shoulder feeling like it was being ripped apart for an awful few moments before it started to come back together. He wasn't sure which sensation was worse. He sucked in a breath, panting hard before he realized what she had done. Fucking hell, the ribs at the same time? It was excruciating and he could feel the pain everywhere before it all left him in a wave and he felt a coolness in his body, exhaustion really dogging him now that the pain had left as well. Torr swallowed thickly, once, twice as he sat up, his cobalt blue eyes hard as he gazed at her. "What the fuck, Perdita. A little warning next time," he grumbled, peeling his hands off her wrist as he realized he might have held on a bit too tight.

He grabbed her before she could move away too much and while he didn't mind the outline of his grip there, he knew it might have caused her some pain too. Which was not what he intended. This time, at least. He easily slid her wand from her fingers and spelled a small healing charm, the tip of her alder wand touching her wrist before he gave it back to her wordlessly.

Was he all good now? He brought his hand across his chest to touch his ribs, realizing they weren't aching and maybe, just maybe, she had done almost as well as Ness would have. "Bedside manner needs a little work," he offered. "But good enough," he added after a beat. It was the closest he came to a thank you.

Perdita laughed. "Oh, I don't think so," she told Torrence with a shake of her head. "Party drugs aren't really my thing." Ironic, really. Half of the young heiresses in London were either drunk, high or both. The idea of drugs hadn't ever appealed to her. She'd seen what they did to people - to Torrence, to Charlie - it was awful. It was a wonder how their bodies hadn't given out yet. She was sure his stuff was expensive and a lot more pure than the stuff on the streets but no. "Thank you for the offer," she added with a smile.

As her hand stopped at Torrence's collarbone, she pulled a face. "I fucking hate it," she went on to drive the point home. She glanced at the tattoo again. "What on Earth possessed you to get it?" Perdy asked as she wrinkled her nose. From her limited experience with body art, she understood that inkings were meant to mean something to the person getting them. She would have liked to know the stories behind all of them but there were more pressing matters.

His exclamation made her wince but she stood her ground, forging on with the healing magic. "Sorry," she said softly as Torrence thrashed in the water. "Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry," she repeated, over and over again like a mantra, sounding more insistent with each apology. She didn't know many healing spells, it wasn't often she got herself hurt, but the ones she did know were particularly powerful.

She sucked in air through her teeth as she hissed in pain as Torrence's fingers held her wrist in a vice-like grip. It was a knee-jerk reaction, like when women went through childbirth and accidentally broke their partner's hands. It was brief but effective but if he'd gone to St. Mungo's, she assumed it'd be much better than this. Her initial reaction was to kiss him, to distract him, to give him something else to focus on but they were still in a fight...sort of.

"I said I was sorry," she whispered, her cheeks pink, both from the hot bath and the exertion of the spells. Despite that, she smirked. "Like ripping off a plaster," she teased him, her eyes sliding to the grip on her. He released her quickly and she was alarmed to see the imprint of his hand on her skin. Opening her mouth to say she was leaving, she let Torrence fix her up. It happened so fluidly and quickly, she was left dumbstruck as he gave her her wand back.

She flexed her fingers and rotated her wrist; it felt fine. She left her wand balanced on the side of the bath before she tucked her damp hair behind her ear, easing her arm out of his hand. "Thanks," she smiled quickly but still hadn't moved away from him but she snorted with laughter.

"You were an uncooperative patient," she retorted smoothly, her eyes watching Torrence's hand as he surveyed his healed ribs. Perdy took a moment to bask in the smugness of a job well done. Sometimes, he didn't hold her to a very high regard but her desire to win often led her to enjoying proving him wrong.  She waited, eyebrows arched, for the thank you that never came. "Good enough," she echoed with a scoff and a roll of her eyes. "High praise indeed," she muttered, pausing to playfully splash some water at him. She stopped, looking at him for a moment as the realisation that she was feeling too comfortable began to creep in at the edges. "I won't touch your face," she announced. "I might leave that to the professionals."

Her laugh was light enough, without the sarcastic bite she sometimes took with him, her thank you unfettered, and yet he still felt a faintest hint of irritation. He scrubbed a hand at his forehead again, mostly exhausted with himself. He had literally just had the thought run through his mind that he hadn't wanted her to take any bliss but now when she turned him down, he was irritated? Shit, he fucked up. Maybe in more ways than she even knew so he just didn't say anything.

Her vehemence at his skull tattoo was amusing. A ghost of a smile turned up his lips. At her question, he shrugged lightly, the heat of the water seeping in to sore muscles. "I was drunk?" he offered her before he frowned a bit. That wasn't completely the truth. Well, he had been drunk the first time he had gone in with an idea of the art he had badly sketched himself. The tattoo artist had turned it into something much better, what was currently over his left pec, just over his heart. "I like it," he tried again, explaining himself for Merlin knew what reason. "Felt fitting."

Her litany of 'sorry's hadn't made him feel any better and that smirk she gave him made him throw her a hard look in response. "Let me decide to rip off the plaster next time," Torr told her. He did feel better though and somehow it made him feel worse. Maybe he shouldn't have given in to her healing him. Maybe he should've sucked it up. He was still fighting with himself as he watched her rotate her wrist. Even that small bit of healing made him sag more into the water. Emotional, physical, and now magical exhaustion biting at him even as his eyes roved over her as she sat half-hidden under water between his thighs.

"Thank you," he replied, speaking the words she was fishing for, but his tone was sarcastic. Turning his head away from her splash, he sighed as he wiped at his eyes with his thumb and index finger, giving her another shrug and not feeling the painful sharpness with the movement for the first time tonight. "Good, leave it," he said, not bothering to explain that he deserved a bit of a reminder of his loss tonight, and then nodded at her. "Turn round, I'll wash your back" he added grabbing some of his soap, smelling of coriander, teak wood, and musk, and rubbing it between his palms before he sat up a little straighter behind her. He slathered the soap across her shoulders and back, touching her was like its own soothing balm, his fingers gentle but firm. He brushed her dark hair out of the way as he kneaded the muscles of her shoulders and back.

A million things on his mind, but it felt like he didn't have enough energy to corral any of them into words. Their earlier fight still weighed on him, his loss at Grimli simply a symptom of that, and yet he couldn't find the words - for an apology, for an explanation, for a warning, any of it. "Will you--" he stopped as the words slipped out and he forced him lips into a straight line and then rephrased. "You should stay tonight, Red."

He'd been drunk. With a roll of her eyes, she smiled. "I can tell," Perdita offered, her lips pursed in disapproval. She squinted at the skull, her contempt for the tattoo clear. She wished Torrence would cover it up or turn it into something a bit less...intense? But then again, it was his body and if they just slept together in the dark, it wasn't like she'd have to look at it. "Fitting?" She asked sharply, her head jerking upwards to blink at him. "How so?" She fished, fully ready to be rebuffed before she shrugged. "I suppose that's all that matters."

At least he hadn't died. Torrence was grumpy but all of his limbs were still attached. All in all, she hadn't done a bad job. "That sounds fair," she smiled quickly, her wrist now also feeling better. He still looked awful, though. What he needed was a good sleep and a good meal. He also needed some sense knocked into him but now wasn't the time.

She blinked. "My pleasure," Perdy replied smoothly. "Honestly," she smirked, rather enjoying causing him pain for five minutes. When instructed not to touch his face, she simply lifted her hands, palms towards him, in the universal symbol of surrender. She paused, her eyebrows arched suggestively. Usually after the motion, some rope was tied around her wrists but she simply smiled. "Smart choice," she agreed. Besides, the wounds looked superficial enough for him to leave them alone.

"Hm?" Perdita asked in mild surprise at Torrence's command before she found herself turning around anyway. She sat in silence, a thoughtful frown on her face before Torr's hands were on her back and her eyes slipped to a close. She let out a gentle sigh of approval as his fingers slid up her spine to her shoulders and she relaxed, her body going soft and pliant as she let her head loll backwards.

"Quick question," she began softly, sounding sleepy as the scent of his soap enveloped her. "Have you ever thought about doing this professionally?" Perdita joked. Sort of. His thumbs were pressing into the knots in her muscles with pinpoint accuracy and goosebumps spread across the skin of her forearms, her toes curling in pleasure. He liked her perfume, she liked his soap but the idea of smelling like him was bumping around her brain. "A little lower," she directed Torrence before she gasped softly. "Oh yeah, that's it," she shivered.

She, however, was broken out of her reverie quickly. You should stay tonight. She absolutely should not. Her eyes opened as she hesitated. It wasn't that she didn't want to (she really did) but they were in a weird, uncomfortable headspace. It would only make things more complicated.

"I--" she began before she paused. A few weeks ago, after that funny turn she'd had in Edinburgh, Torrence had looked after her. Well, he'd made her drink a potion that had knocked her out for ten hours but she had needed someone to keep an eye on her and she should at least repay the favour. She turned her head to glance at him out of her peripheral vision before she made her choice.

"Alright," she finally agreed after what felt like an eternity. "Just to make sure you don't have a concussion," she went on, as though that was the only reason she'd spend the night but they both knew that was not the case. Torrence was making it horrifically difficult to cut him loose. Whenever she thought she'd found the strength, he did something she liked that reminded her that while he wasn't good, he definitely wasn't bad. "But finish my massage first," she added, a hint of a smile in her tone.

He saw her gaze land on him in a sharp movement and sighed. Torr shouldn't have said anything, but what the hell. Not like he could take it back now. He rubbed a hand over his pec absently, covering the ink of the grim reaper just over his heart. He knew that he should warn her, had done it many times before, but after their fight earlier, he was reluctant to scare her away, especially right now so he said instead, "Just liked the design," and left it at that.

The fact that she seemed to have enjoyed the painful process of healing him didn't make his mood any better, but he supposed to deserved it. That and much more so he just sighed and then almost smirked as she held up her hands defensively, the memory of that movement sparking something in him. But he was helping he turn around, giving him her back, in the next second, squeaking sounds against the tub as she moved before they stilled, the water leveling out as his hands moved over her back. He gave her a little humming noise as she began with quick question, almost not wanting to know what she was after.

His hands stilled at her question and he brought his thighs up on either side of her and squeezed her as he huffed a laugh. "I'll add it to my to do list if the Potions thing falls through," he told her, sarcasm on his tone even as he moved his hands a little lower as she requested. Her whisper of approval soothed something in him, the graceful line of her spine and her waist nipping in catching his eye again and again.

Torr tried not to let her hesitation eat at him when he asked her to stay. Well, not asked, but close enough. Irritation prickled across his shoulders as she didn't respond and he bit his tongue, wanting to take back the offer immediately. He felt her moving before he saw her turn her head back towards him and he met her gaze before dropping to her back, his hands running up her sides. Her agreement, however, made the tension in his shoulders ease and he nodded. "I'm not concussed," he grumbled even though he didn't want her to leave and he wasn't above playing into the whole concussion issue if he needed to just to get her to stay.

He put some more of his soap onto his hands, his thumbs making small circles as his hands traveled up her back, his fingertips brushing against her breasts before he massaged her shoulders and neck again too. Then he brought up handfuls of warm water and let it wash the soap down her back. Without thought, he leaned in to kiss her shoulder blade.

Perdita was unimpressed. Of course, it wasn't any of her business and she was sure that whomever else he was sleeping with just loved the bad boy vibe, but she was new to the realm of tattoos. She knew she liked them and she knew she enjoyed the sensation when she'd gotten one herself but that was about it. Perhaps tattoo addiction was a real thing. She blinked. "If you promise that you won't choose that," she pointed at his chest, "I'll let you pick one for me. With some caveats," she warned, holding up an index finger in case Torrence tried to interject.

She did regret running out of that Dublin tattoo studio some months before. She didn't think Torrence hated her so much that he'd choose something for her that was horrid...or did he? With her back to him, Perdita frowned in thought. She liked unpredictability as much as the next person but when did it stop being cute and start becoming dangerous?

Swiftly, she chuckled. "Seriously," she told him as she arched her back into his hands. "I'd pay you hourly," she joked but in fact, the masseuse that she saw regularly, didn't feel half as good as Torrence did. Perdy found herself relaxing, part from the warm water but mostly from his touch. She liked to argue but she loathed fighting with him. She very rarely got the last word and whenever she did, it didn't feel good. She often left feeling sad and drained and confused and even more angry. It drained her. The phrase it's complicated didn't cover it.

Absently, she stretched her spine as she pitched forward slightly, her chin resting on one of her knees as she wiggled her toes in the water. "I know," she replied gently. "You're far too on the ball," she offered, sounding both annoyed and relieved. Torrence didn't know what he'd been putting her through but it was her own fault - she was letting it manifest. Besides, what kind of woman frets over a man that she wasn't even dating?

"You should have something to eat, though," Perdy offered, despite realising that he'd likely turn her down. She understood the subtext. If he let her help him, he'd get comfortable. Being comfortable led to letting down walls. Letting down walls led to trust and trust led to feelings, which Torrence obviously could not express.

The water running down her spine felt nice and her eyes closed. Deep in thought and thankful for the lapse in conversation, the kiss on her shoulder made her blink. The touch was tender, more tender than they were used to. As much as she liked it (and wanted it), she stayed still, scared in case she spooked him. Instead, she wiggled back a little more towards him, to show her interest. Sitting up, she crossed her arms over her chest, the tips of her fingers gently touching his knees either side of her.

"How are you feeling now?" Perdita voiced her question, wondering how well the potion had worked for him. Turning her head, she rested her chin on her collarbone as she looked at him with a small smile. "Come on," she said gently. "Let's get you some clean clothes and you can sleep it off."

Her offer was tempting. Very tempting, actually, but Torr found himself shaking his head at her anyway with a knowing look. "I don't think so, Red," he told her, his voice tired but his words a little more clipped than they had been a moment ago. "We already had that deal once and you backed out." She had run out of that tattoo parlour actually and then apparated right after he bought her lunch and clearly wasn't done with her. What a fucking tease.

Torr could feel her relaxing under his hands though and while he said, "I'm not sure you can afford my hourly rate," he still couldn't help the lightness of how it felt when she reveled in what he was doing to her. He hadn't really given her massages before, or at least, not without the specific intent of fucking, but it was almost nice to know that he could do something else other than that to affect her in a good way. He would keep this in mind for the future when he wasn't so bone-dead tired.

He hummed a confirming answer (no, he wasn't concussed) and then hummed another noise at her recommendation of eating something (perhaps, he was a bit hungry), but he drifted towards less spoken words as he usually did when he was this tired. He brought up more handfuls of warm water, letting the soap suds wash away from her gentle curves, unable to take his gaze off her as she scooted closer and he felt the kiss of her fingertips against his knees as she crossed her arms in front of her.

It occurred to him rather suddenly that he was really glad she had shown up at his door, even if her intent had been to rail at him for his behavior earlier. He let his hands drift up and over her shoulder and then down her arms. "A bit better," he admitted, avoiding her gaze before he thought over her suggestion and finally nodded. Listening for once, he agreed and stood up behind her, stepping out and snapping a towel from a hook to wrap around his waist. He grabbed another towel and held it out to her before he padded into his bedroom to get some clothes. More for her than for him since he usually slept in the nude, but since he was still considering food, he put on a pair of dark heather grey joggers and then gestured toward his closet. "You can pick," he told her.

Perdita scowled. She loathed being told no. Admittedly, she could normally wangle her way into getting people to change her mind but Torrence remained resolutely stubborn. Casually, she shrugged. "That's fine," she grumbled as she blew at a lock of her hair. "I'll just get my own, then," she huffed, despite not really knowing where to start. Maybe she could get something mundane and run of the mill. That'd annoy him.

Her annoyance, however, was short lived. Perdy laughed as she shook her head. They fell back into an easy rhythm of flirting and joking and while she wanted to dive right in, she was acutely aware of their current standings. God, why was this so difficult at times? She adored it when Torrence was playful but he had a dark side to him that frightened her. One wrong move and it could all come crumbling down.

Torrence wasn't talkative, so she didn't push it. She sat in the tub as she replayed the day's events with a soft frown that creased her forehead. They needed to talk - properly. She swallowed as he washed away the soap from her skin, his touch soft and warm. She didn't want to sort things out. In fact, she'd rather stew in her own  misery than ever admit how this "relationship" was affecting her.

"That's good," she added quickly as Torrence said he was feeling better. "Told you a bath works wonders," she joked. If things got really bad, tea and toast also worked pretty well. As his fingers trailed over her arms, she let out a light and involuntary shiver as goosebumps rose on her flesh. Perdita didn't have this sort of visceral reaction when anyone else touched her.

But he was up and away before she could enjoy it and it took a couple of seconds before her brain kicked into gear. She stepped out and took the towel, wrapping it around her securely before she watched him go. Her bright eyes trailed down over his back, his skin glistening in the low light and she hung back. With a hand on her forehead, she let out a heavily laden sigh at her own stupidity.

Clearing her throat, she followed, but paused at the wardrobe. Perdy hesitated when she was given the choice of what to wear. The fact that he was even offering made her panic briefly. She didn't think she'd ever worn Torrence's clothes before, except for maybe once or twice when she'd strutted around in his leather jacket, making fun of him. This, however, felt infinitely more intimate.

Trying her best not to dissect Torr's kind offer, she reached out and selected a black tee shirt, dropping her towel to the floor so she could pull it over her head. Her hands pulled down the hem, the garment just skimming her thighs, before she slicked back her damp hair. "Thanks," she said with a quick smile. Annoyingly, the tee shirt was buttery soft and smelled wonderful.

With a hand on his back, Perdita neatly brushed past him and padded out into the hallway to the kitchen. Moving around with ease, she began to search for pots and pans, eventually finding a wok which she placed on the stove, emptying the bag of almost-thawed vegetables into it before she looked up. "Stir fry," she announced unhelpfully as she turned on the stove, keen to keep her hands busy so they didn't stray towards him. In went oil as she poked the veg around the pan with a wooden spoon, looking more domesticated than she ever thought she would before she peered at him. "Bloom special recipe," she continued as she added in some soy sauce she'd found. "Can't guarantee it won't kill you," she joked.

"You better not," he said immediately. Getting another tattoo on her own? She wasn't really considering that, was she. He narrowed his gaze at her back and pinched her side just to further emphasis his point. The quietness they lapsed into wasn't bad though. With his hands on her, her curled up between his thighs, he actually didn't hate it. Maybe even wondered why he didn't invite her over more often. He liked how she joked with him, how easy the lightness felt even after such a piss poor day. But he also knew it wouldn't last. And maybe that's why he leaned in to kiss her shoulder and then leave a little bite before he got up. One more kiss before it inevitably turned to shit. "Yeh, you're a real genius," he told her, his eyes tracing over her curves as she stepped into the towel he offered her.

He leaned against the doorjamb then winced as his shoulder was better but not perfect and leaned his back against it instead as he watched her hunt in his closet. He had known Perdy for a while, he wasn't sure how many years at this point, and yet it still felt a bit odd to see her surrounded by all of his stuff. He usually went to her place, not her coming here. He was too tired to decide how he felt about it as he took the towel and rubbed it against the nape of his neck, drying the ends of his hair that had gotten wet and then running it down his chest too.

But even with all of that, he liked that she was so comfortable with him, no hiding behind towels, no shyness. He didn't avert his gaze either as she pulled on a tshirt over her head. He suddenly couldn't decide if he liked her naked or wearing his tshirt more. He nodded at her thanks, but didn't move as she brushed past him, trying to sort out why he felt this tightness in his chest. Torr ran his fingers over his ribs that she had healed, searching for the reason, his thoughts jumbled. He found himself looking at his reflection in the full=length mirror, his skin still pale but at least with a little more color than before, his face still busted, but he could at least roll his shoulder without sharp shooting pains. He could inhale without feeling like his ribs were going to poke a hole in his lung. He eyed the tattoo that Perdy hated so much for a moment before he heard sounds of her in his kitchen. He sighed as he made his way out there.

His stomach grumbled at the sight and he realized he had really only eaten breakfast today. He swallowed as his mouth started to water, taking a seat on one of the barstools across from where she was cooking, one foot propped on the rung of the stool, the other out straight. "As long as you test it first, I'll eat it," he said with a tired smile, his cobalt blue eyes tracing out how his dark shirt swallowed her up. She looked annoyingly huggable. He resisted the temptation. "Thought you didn't like mushrooms," he noted, nodding towards the vegetable mix that included the one he thought she didn't like. Or was that someone else... shit.