seveninchmotto | Room 301, Saturday Evening

"Okay," Flick said, nodding and pulling his hand back and away from her. He tucked it underneath his cheek and stayed like that for the moment. "Maybe I'll even give you something I'm gonna keep secret until I decide whether I wanna do it or not."

He smiled easily and pushed himself up onto his hands and knees. "I get to do things in the order I want to do them in."

"Of course, babe," Isabelle replied sweetly, with an amused smirk as she watched him. She brushed her hair back with her free hand. "I'm okay with giving you control like that."

"Trust me at least that much, huh?" Flick quipped, getting to his feet and stepping away from the bed. Figured he had to find something to use for a blindfold and she had to have a scarf or something around, right?

There were some hanging on the mirror. If he dared to brave the glitter again.

"Mm hmm," she confirmed, rolling onto her back and stretching out for a second. "I trust you at least that much. Yes."

"But not much further," he guessed, giving the scarves on the mirror a look. There was a lot of glitter there but he figured he could just shower it off if he got any on him.

"Eh."

That light, noncommittal sound came complete with a vague shrug he probably didn't see since he was looking at the scarves. Oh well, his loss.

Well, the sound was enough for him. Enough for some quick tension to slip across his shoulders that got pushed down quickly. But, he did make a slightly sharp grab for one of the scarves and then took a moment to look it over to see if it'd work as a blindfold or not.

Seemed dark enough and not made of any see through material but who knew with her since her eyesight was better than his. He turned back around and dropped it on the bed near her.

She'd been mostly joking, anyway, in lieu of getting into any actual facts about her level of trust. She might've surprised him, if she had.

She reached out lazily to pick up the scarf and give it a look. "Nice choice," she complimented. "This'll work."

"Yeah, it looked all right," he said, shrugging. "Do you wanna put it on or do you want me to do that?"

He hadn't re-joined her on the bed just yet.

"Oh, I think you should do the honors," Isabelle told him, pushing herself up to sitting and smoothing her hem over her thighs. "Although if you get my hair caught in a knot I will have to hurt you."

"Won't be the first time you've done that," he said offhandedly, reaching for the scarf and giving it a tug. "Turn around, please. Face away from me."

Isabelle let that one slip by without further comment, just like she let go of the scarf when he tugged on it.

Just shifted so she could do as asked, and turn.

Hey, she wasn't the only one who could make cutting comments at inappropriate times. Oops. Or something.

After watching her move, Flick looped the scarf in front of her, finally getting one knee on the bed so he could see what he was doing. He draped the scarf over her eyes then pulled the ends back tight (but not too tight) so he could secure them sans her hair.

The scarf got knotted up and then he dropped his hands again, letting her acclimate.

Definitely 'or something'.

Isabelle let him go about it without interference. Only once he'd let go, she adjusted the blindfold from the front, pulling it a little further down over her eyes. They were closed, anyway.

"Seems nice and snug."

Well, they weren't nice people, were they? Matched set.

"Can you see through it?" Flick wondered, raising an eyebrow. "I know your eyesight's better than mine."

"Can't see through a bunch of fabric and my eyelids, Jon," she told him quietly. "This is more to help me keep my eyes closed. It's good."

"Got a little quiet there, Izzy," Flick replied, raising an eyebrow. "Nervous?"

He knew that wasn't it. Flick finally got back on her bed, staying behind her but not touching. Just close enough that she'd know he was there.

"Just don't have anything loud to say." Maybe she was taking a leaf from his book. You know, the book of getting a little sullen in inopportune moments. She wasn't going to let herself get too bogged down by that, though. "I'm sure you'll change that sooner or later."

And he knew that he did that too so it wasn't too hard recognize in someone else. He slid closer to hear, leaned his front against her back and said near her ear, "Are you mad at me?"

Things were never going to be easy, were they?

"No," she replied succinctly.

And maybe he'd drop the subject if she leaned back against him a bit. A girl could hope, right?

Flick smirked just a bit, glad that she couldn't see that. It was kind of strange to be the one who'd made her mad and not vice versa.

"You're mad at me," he said, ignoring her one word denial. "Why?"

So, apparently the leaning wasn't going to make him drop the subject. Too bad for her.

"I'm not mad at you," Isabelle reiterated.

Although her tone suggested she could get mad at him. In a way that she wouldn't bother hiding.

Flick sighed and didn't move away. He did slide his fingertips down her arm though lightly. Did that mean he was going to drop the subject?

"What's the matter, then?" No, it didn't. "Because I know something is."

By the Angel, he was an idiot.

"Nothing is the matter."

That was maybe a little bit too forceful to bee convincing. But then, she was really more about trying to make him drop the damn subject rather than convincing him he was wrong, anyway.

Flick pursed his lips and considered dropping the subject because he could tell she wanted him to do that versus doing what he wanted to do.

"You're not doing a great job at being convincing," he told her, shaking his head. "You know how I know something's up? Because I act like you're acting when I'm pissed off at something."

Sometimes it was her, sometimes it was his life, sometimes it was something else completely.

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