Searching for Escapes

Hazel has spent her life running from her past and herself. Nowadays, she's trying hard to fix her path. But sometimes, the easy route is easier. Stealing comes naturally, after all... ((Independent roleplaying blog for a FMA OC. But I'm open to roleplaying with everyone! Just send me an ask.))

[darkernotes-blog]

“I never plan the route,” he told her, crossing the street. She followed. “I just walk around, and go where I feel like going. When something catches my attention, I turn in that direction.” He took off his hat and placed it over hers, eyes sparkling amusement. “Sometimes it’s better to follow our instincts.”

[spiralsinmyhead-blog]

"You're ridiculous," she said, grinning foolishly as his hat shadowed her eyes from the glaring sun. It was sweet of him, really; a bold move she felt inclined to accept with a little smile. Around them, Central City was waking up. A passerby walked a pair of dogs and a couple's lively declarations colored the air. John turned the corner; she followed, matching him step for step. "Charmin', but ridiculous."

It was more than she had meant to say, the words slipping past her lips before her brain agreed with the thought. Sometimes it's better to follow our instincts, Hazel mused, repeating his words in her heard. A frown, however briefly, crisscrossed her brow. "Your way of thinkin' sounds so very adventurous," she continued, "but I like plannin' things, John. Can we go to the park?"

[darkernotes-blog]

“Of course.” He beamed, the smile edgy and prideful. Hazel was no longer as careful as she had been. Maybe, and he hoped that was the case, she was getting used to the idea of having him around. “I’ll wait outside.”  

[spiralsinmyhead-blog]

After showering, her skin no longer sticky with a coat of sweat, Hazel glared at her choice of wardrobe. She was going to take a walk with John, a man that wore expensive, well-tailored suits most days. In contrast, her clothes were plain and... unremarkable. Always the same. Putting on her gloves, she refused to look at the scars that trailed her fingers, but a sigh escaped her lips. 

"Hey," she said, meeting him outside. "What route, sir?"

[darkernotes-blog]

“We could take a walk after you shower?” Phrased as a question, he sounded hopeful and a little nervous. John was enchanted. “If you want.”

[spiralsinmyhead-blog]

She almost said no--scared of the friendship that was growing between them. But then she saw his eyes and found herself nodding. A natural reaction, a decision no longer in her control. "Wait for me. I won't take long, okay?" 

[spiralsinmyhead-blog]

dakrnotes:

“I hope so too.” He picked one of the boxes, ignored her pointed look, and followed Hazel into the kitchen. “If the weather stays so hellish, we’ll melt.”

The kitchen was empty, soft sunlight streaming through the windows. Too early. "I'm afraid you're right." She placed the boxes on the floor and pointed for him to do the same. "...I need to shower."

[spiralsinmyhead-blog]

"Do you think it'll rain soon?"

"Hey," she greeted without turning, no longer surprised to know his presence close. Hazel maneuvered the stack of boxes she carried in one hand, and swiped her sweaty brow with the other. "...I hope so."

[darkernotes-blog]

—You are brillaint, Zay.

[spiralsinmyhead-blog]

((Shut up. I'm posting what you tell me to say through a phone. Of course I'll confuse the accounts. >.> I'm going to change your password.))

[darkernotes-blog]

—And Farewell? The meaning doesn't really work, pero…

“Yo no lo quiero, Amada.”

;)

[spiralsinmyhead-blog]

((Ha! XD The real meaning of that poem doesn't work at all, silly. 

Pero...

"Para que nada nos amarre  que no nos una nada.

Ni la palabra que aromò tu boca,  ni lo que no dijeron las palabras."

At least that part fits! ;P))

[darkernotes-blog]

—Don’t pretend, my dear. We both know you love Neruda! ;)

[spiralsinmyhead-blog]

((You are... irksome. And charming. :P But go do something else. I don't need you sending me love poems.))

[spiralsinmyhead-blog]

((J, I see you there! What on earth have you done in my ask-box! :P))

[darkernotes-blog]

Conversations -- @spiralsinmyhead

[darkernotes-blog]

“I know.” Two words. Nothing more. “I know I don’t know you, Hazel.” But he was there: bold, careful and nervous. Something about her (the gloves she wore and the guarded look camouflaging her eyes) intrigued him. Had him interested. Very interested. Like she was a new melody stuck in his head, John couldn’t stop thinking that Hazel was a mystery for him to crack. But the strong attraction, to be honest, was becoming a nuisance he would rather do without. He wanted to be the gentleman. Become her friend. Desire was putting a damper on such plans. “I play the guitar, have three cats, and my favorite color is…”

John halted. Different stairs, different rail, but there he was, leaning against it. Again. It might become an habit around her. Crossing his arms, he regarded her, observed the small reactions. Hazel was hesitating, as if wondering what to do with him. But as far as he knew, walking into her room screamed trouble. He would stay outside and save them the mess. “What was I saying? Ah, right! Black. My favorite color is black.”

[spiralsinmyhead-blog]

"What on earth are you..." A little shift of her feet and she twirled towards him, a graceful movement that betrayed how agile she really was. So accustomed to jumping and running, always ready to confront the forces of gravity and change directions at a moment's notice; with the right partner, there was no doubt Hazel could become a brilliant dancer. But she wasn't thinking about dancing. Her eyes were wide and she shook her head, fighting the foolish grin tugging at the corner of her lips and the urge to throw her head back and laugh. Whatever god stood above her, watching and judging from afar, granted John a little too much charm. And to top it all, she thought, he's ridiculously sweet. "Why are you tellin' me all that?"

But she asked for the sake of asking--a rhetorical query that needed no answer. Hazel knew the why. More importantly, she understood what he said without saying it. "Black, really? Goes with your name, doesn't it? John Dark loves the color black," she teased, pondering the rest of his confessions and what to tell him in return. After a long moment, she gave up. There was nothing interesting to tell. "I love books," she said, either way, to compensate.

[spiralsinmyhead-blog]

dakrnotes replied to your post: —Go to bed! :P

—Exxxxxxcuuuuusas! ;)

((Well, aprendí de ti! ^^))

[spiralsinmyhead-blog]

--Go to bed! :P

((Again with this? >.>'' It's early, darling. Además, no puedo. Tengo bastantes cosas que hacer, al igual que tú! XD Besides, you are the one who should go to bed! :P))

[darkernotes-blog]

Conversations -- @spiralsinmyhead

[darkernotes-blog]

“You sound so confident,” he murmured, voice low. John moved closer. He moved even closer. His body never touched hers but he was close enough he invaded her personal space while keeping a semblance of distance between them. “Don’t be,” he continued. “I have a few tricks of my own. Who knows. You could find yourself trapped before you started running.” 

There was a dangerous edge to his words. A promise of sorts. His eyes caressed her body. The attraction was back, stronger than before. A renewed force. A need he couldn’t control. John gulped and pulled back. “Perhaps I’m deluding myself.” Now he smiled a nervous smile. “You seem like someone that knows how to run away.” 

[spiralsinmyhead-blog]

You have no idea, she thought. Running away. Hiding... She was an expert at all that. But she wasn't running away yet, enthralled by the sound of his voice. More, she liked the proximity, that he was close enough she could imagine his touch. Hazel unlocked the door and, glancing over her shoulders, responded to his words with a pointed look and a wry smile.

His eyes shone with confidence and fear at the same time. A warning, then, sirens blaring inside her head--when she met him a few day ago, she thought there was something dangerous about John. Now she realized the joke was on her: The danger was in her own body, flushing with need under his cool gaze. Hazel shivered.

This was new and different and she didn't like it one bit. "You don't know me, John." In that moment, heart racing, she wanted him gone. After all, the desire to know him, to really know him, grew stronger with each passing second, for some illogical reason she couldn't pinpoint. Hazel was in no mood to deal with it. Pushing open the door, her eyes raked the scarcely furnished room. What to do with the man that stood behind her? "If you want coffee," she said, mostly to distract herself, "you are lookin' for it in the wrong place."

[spiralsinmyhead-blog]

--Go to beeeeeed! ;)

((Don't tell me what to do. :P Besides, I'm in bed already! ...Just not sleeping yet.))

[darkernotes-blog]

Conversations -- @spiralsinmyhead

[darkernotes-blog]

“Yes,” he agreed, “I’m the one following you.” John paused. He observed the stair in front of her and how poor it all looked. She lived here? Alone? The thought made him uncomfortable. He knew it could be worse, but she deserved better. ”One could say we’re playing tag. I’m the officer and you’re the thief that doesn't want to be found.”  

[spiralsinmyhead-blog]

Hazel froze, hand grasping the doorknob in an effort to steady herself. You're the thief that doesn't want to be found. The wave of dizziness passed as soon as it came, though, and she regained her usual composure. Smooth, careful, only showing the emotions she wanted to show--this was the control that made her exceptionally good at what she did. But even then, shame pulsed in tune with the adrenaline.

"I'll love to see you try," she said. Logic told her John meant his words in jest. That they were playing tag. That she had nothing to worry about. Little did he know, he was hitting the nail in the head. "You'll never catch me."

[darkernotes-blog]

Conversations -- @spiralsinmyhead

[darkernotes-blog]

“Oh. I understand, my dear.” He followed after her and heard what she didn’t say. Hazel had no house to call her home. Noticing her hesitation, he kept their conversation casual. “But are you sure stalkers aren’t attractive? I caught you staring the other day.”

[spiralsinmyhead-blog]

Something told her he didn't, in fact, understand, but humans spoke in funny ways. Hazel was thankful he didn't press for more. They were nowhere near ready for heartfelt confessions. "I wasn't starin'," she lied smoothly, while walking into the lonely alleyway to her right. Behind the restaurant, and hidden from view, was the outside stair that led to her little room. "You're the one followin' me."

[darkernotes-blog]

Conversations -- @spiralsinmyhead

[darkernotes-blog]

Pride filled him at the sound of her laughter. Such a pretty sound, lovely against his ears. “Yes, but nothing else feels as interesting as stalking you.” John winked. “Anyway…” He crossed his arms and a curious expression fell over his face. “You don’t really work here?”

[spiralsinmyhead-blog]

"It seems you're mistaken, John," she teased, skipping past him two steps at a time. "Stalkers aren't attractive." But he was, and she feared her pupils dilated in his presence. "I, well, you see..." Hazel hesitated. "Lizzie let's me use her guest room. I help around as payment."