#theredtcwer

[deu5exmach1na]

Happy Team Machine et al.

A nice day is always a reason for a picnic in the park. 

A Halloween treat for @fatherofmachine, @zokliitsos// @theredtcwer, @digimmortality, @anurbanlcgend (that no one asked for but... shrugs we are too mean to em, and Jason I don't know who your FC is for miles but if you let me know I’ll fix that if I can find a pic x)

[fatherofmachine-a]

@theredtcwer | CONT.

He’d been musing over NATHAN & the strange way he’d been acting, the odd DISTANCE between them that Harold hadn’t set in place, both his & Nathan’s feelings about The Machine. What would he DO if his friend were doing something DANGEROUS, for all of them—–or, what if he’d ALREADY started doing something dangerous ??—–a FAMILIAR, gentle touch, followed by a SQUEEZE, brings tangled & RACING thoughts to an abrupt halt & TROUBLED blue eyes flicker to meet Grace’s own.

❝ —–… Hmm ?  Oh,  I’m sorry, ❞

Harold’s hand shifts within her grasp, his fingers INTERTWINING with hers & a QUICK smile blooms across his features ;  albeit it contains a touch of sadness to it & his gaze sweeps downward. FONDNESS for her nearly engulfs him, the reminder of how well she knew him … of how well they knew EACH OTHER ( despite his avoidance of certain truths to protect her ) threatening to swipe the AIR from his lungs.

❝ It’s nothing,  it’s just—–some … DIFFICULTY with work. ❞

[fatherofmachine-a]

[ IDENTIFIED AS: GRACE HENDRICKS ]:

@theredtcwer

              NOT A WORD passes between us : not because we have nothing to say, but because we don’t NEED to say anything. 

     she could feel him move to her the moment the thought laced in through and along the edges of her mind, like ribbon ; almost as if harold had found a way to REACH inside and place it there himself.. had it been a work of art, she would have given him all the credit  ( but it was a mutual creation, as all things were between them. it simply didn’t WORK any other way, )      && the sensation of digits within slick, silken locks brings her lashes to flutter as the eyes shall again drift closed – she remembers the days when she would bite her lip at the thought of something so.. comfortable, with only her PARENTS in all their misery and turmoil to observe. was that really what LOVE was supposed to be like–? no, it couldn’t be ; if that was love she didn’t want it, she didn’t want to see it, to hear it, to –          ( make dad stop yelling, make him stop, PLEASE MAKE HIM STOP–! )      she  i n h a l e s ,  easing a movement from the ball of her neck to ( nuzzle ) her way closer onto the suited support she had so unapologetically HELPED HERSELF to.. until his scent melts away the heaviness ‘pon her shoulders and makes her thoughts whirl away.

       and she EXHALES, thumb moistened – though not yet pruned – delicate in tracing idly, back and forth, back and forth… but a moment of pause crosses over the room at his question, as though for a moment she was LOST ; and his voice was the guide back into the light. swallowing, grace snorts very softly, if only to   l e a n  her skull into his caress. 

 ❛         STOP IT, HAROLD – i’m no great artist, not REALLY.. i just, do it, you know–? and if no one else gets anything out of it then, well, at least it was something LEARNED. ❜ she retorts, almost EXASPERATED – though it was all in a flash of embarrassed tease.

              ❛ they chose the one of the BIRDS, the one i made for you. .. can you believe it–? ❜

It’s ALMOST as if he can sense the unease that settles within her mind & he gently, reassuringly, squeezes her fingers, which are intertwined with his own—–Harold had never thought he’d be able to UNDERSTAND other person so easily, without any real effort. It NEVER ceased to surprise him how having such insight into Grace’s thoughts, her FEELINGS, was as NATURAL to him as breathing. QUIET stretches between them & he awaits patiently, the fingers of his other hand now finding a slow, absentminded rhythm with their movement throughout damp strands. The NOISE she makes, albeit, elicits an amused upward quirk of thin lips—–Harold had embarrassed her a little, it seems & he found it nothing short of ENDEARING.

 ❝ I mean it,  truly.  They wouldn’t  be CALLING if they didn’t enjoy your work—–don’t you think ? ❞

His SIMPLE reply drifts between them quietly, but it’s the TRUTH ;  the main reason he’d taken a far more KEEN interest in art as a whole was not only because of Grace’s passion for it, but because of what she created with that passion. In truth, Harold NEVER tired of watching her paint ... it was true that Harold gave her a HELPING hand, but—–the paintings did the convincing ALL by themselves.

Dark brows LIFT & his smile expands somewhat, the mention of the PAINTING they’d chosen eliciting another pang of pride for her. Harold MAY be a little bias, but that one in particular was one of his very favorites ... he wonders what they’ll USE it for ?  A cover, perhaps, or for a specific article ?  Perhaps it’s BEST to keep the surprise of it alive.

 ❝ It’d make an INCREDIBLE magazine cover ... but,  I suppose we’ll have to wait  &  SEE what they do with it.  ❞