[ Being close to Aberdeen comes with some very basic, simple rules. You don't ask her for privacy; you don't call her Hallah. You don't touch her, not unless she's told you to (and when she wants you to touch her, she will tell you). In the end, it's a case of 'nothing happens unless Aberdeen wants it to' and it's a method that's worked pretty flawlessly up until now. (There are no conflicts of interest because she doesn't allow them; those variables are removed before they become problematic.)
Needless to say, no one ever hugs Aberdeen. It's an expression of intimacy that she doesn't understand anymore, though she still has memories of them from when she was still a teenager. Micah had been too old and too distant to ever embrace her but Elijah — sometimes there were times when he'd barely let her go and she'd have to worm away, complaining the entire time. (It's painful to think about; worse than a piercer's needle. So she doesn't. She doesn't think of it at all.)
Barcelona has been known to come close on occasion, but it's not part of the unspoken lexicon she shares with Ian Malone. Too intimate, maybe, too much like sex without the actual fucking. Aberdeen's not sure that it's the sort of thing Ian wants but that possibility is quickly dispelled as his arms come up around her, drawing her in and against him. (His pulse quickens, his breath shallows; Aberdeen hears it but doesn't allow herself to try and figure out what it means.)
They stay like that for a little while, the silence stretching; only it's not silent on Aberdeen's end. The ship is still churning away and Dundee's body sounds very much alive as she lifts her face to look up at him. Her expression isn't soft or in anyway yielding, but it would be strange if it was. ]
action; /drinks own tears for breakfast lunch and dinner
Needless to say, no one ever hugs Aberdeen. It's an expression of intimacy that she doesn't understand anymore, though she still has memories of them from when she was still a teenager. Micah had been too old and too distant to ever embrace her but Elijah — sometimes there were times when he'd barely let her go and she'd have to worm away, complaining the entire time. (It's painful to think about; worse than a piercer's needle. So she doesn't. She doesn't think of it at all.)
Barcelona has been known to come close on occasion, but it's not part of the unspoken lexicon she shares with Ian Malone. Too intimate, maybe, too much like sex without the actual fucking. Aberdeen's not sure that it's the sort of thing Ian wants but that possibility is quickly dispelled as his arms come up around her, drawing her in and against him. (His pulse quickens, his breath shallows; Aberdeen hears it but doesn't allow herself to try and figure out what it means.)
They stay like that for a little while, the silence stretching; only it's not silent on Aberdeen's end. The ship is still churning away and Dundee's body sounds very much alive as she lifts her face to look up at him. Her expression isn't soft or in anyway yielding, but it would be strange if it was. ]
You should have stopped.