Malika
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Posts: 126
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Post by Malika on Oct 1, 2009 11:20:52 GMT -5
She let herself fall into step better and lifted a hand to brush it out of his eyes, tucking it behind his ear as well as she could. "Yes," she said, and smiled a bit, "with scissors."
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Post by Erin Harper on Oct 1, 2009 11:27:16 GMT -5
Erin glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes, then dropped them, smiling. "I have those."
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Malika
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Post by Malika on Oct 1, 2009 11:29:24 GMT -5
"Then yes," said Malika, putting her hand down, and slipping it into her pocket with a smile."
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Post by Erin Harper on Oct 1, 2009 11:36:36 GMT -5
When they reached Erin's trailer- which one could only get to through a maze of other various tents and trailers, back behind poles and abandoned equipment, past the part of the circus where the public usually wandered- Erin unlocked the door and then asked her to hang back for a minute, which he spent quickly shoving discarded cigarette cartons, abandoned clothing, and the like into either his lone trashcan, under the bed, or into corners. He took great care to pick a new shirt from his drawers rather than any of the ones on the floor, and then asked her to come in.
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Malika
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Post by Malika on Oct 1, 2009 11:40:52 GMT -5
This was amusing. Beyond amusing. Having so rarely attempted anything like this on a younger man of less means - beyond Mercutio, in fact, never, and Mercutio had so carefully cut his heart out of the equation - she knew what he was doing but had never needed to hang back before.
She stepped instead, carefully keeping on one side in a practiced and easy way that made it hard to know that she had any motives in that, making sure he couldn't see her bruised shoulder just yet.
The only place to sit was the bed. This figured, but there it was, not surprising, and she slipped onto it easily, legs dangling off to the side. If she kept turned, and her hair stayed over her shoulder, she could pretend for a while, she reasoned.
"Erin," she repeated. "Is an American name, isn't it?"
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Post by Erin Harper on Oct 1, 2009 13:57:17 GMT -5
"Irish, actually. I am American, though." Erin opened his window to let some air in, then went to the drawer of the table beside his bed for scissors.
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Malika
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Post by Malika on Oct 1, 2009 14:05:01 GMT -5
Malika hoped he was going for the scissors. She wanted to see him hand them to her, accepting the offer of a haircut that had seemed to make him so sensitive earlier.
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Post by Erin Harper on Oct 1, 2009 14:15:08 GMT -5
Erin handed the scissors to her, then turned to scoop a towel up off the floor. He sat on the bed, putting the towel down first to catch any hair; Erin was very used to haircuts, even if he usually performed them himself. Of course, there was always the off chance she'd use them to cut his throat, but Erin figured if that's what she was here for she'd have a knife of her own. (The double appearance of a particular Catwoman may have made Erin a little paranoid.)
He didn't have a problem with the idea of Malika cutting his hair, now or when she'd first offered. It had just surprised him, a great deal.
"D'you make a habit of this, grooming people's hair?"
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Malika
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Post by Malika on Oct 1, 2009 16:28:21 GMT -5
"No," said Malika, "but I figure that if yours is just going to grow out again tomorrow night, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, that if I do a terrible job on it you'll be less inclined to hate me."
Malika had an incredible gift to, even as she said a sentence any metrosexual would sweat to hear, and snipped at air with the scissors a couple of times, wear a smile that made everything sound nonthreatening and rather warm.
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Post by Tsuzuki on Oct 1, 2009 17:18:33 GMT -5
Erin considered this, holding completely still so that she wouldn't mess up. It wasn't hard. He was still tired, although the disorientation had long wore off. Not moving was rather nice. "Point, I guess."
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Malika
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Post by Malika on Oct 1, 2009 18:52:37 GMT -5
She snipped away, carefully trying to trim in a straight line.
Well, it could have been worse.
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Post by Erin Harper on Oct 1, 2009 19:25:25 GMT -5
Fortunately for her, Erin wasn't likely to complain. There was a reason he kept his hair short, and that was because it was harder to mess up, although not, as he'd found out over the years, impossible.
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Malika
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Post by Malika on Oct 1, 2009 19:40:19 GMT -5
"It's....well, it's done, for one thing."
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Post by Erin Harper on Oct 1, 2009 19:41:12 GMT -5
"Yeah?" There was amusement in Erin's voice. He was clearly grinning, even if she couldn't see it. "I recognize that tone. How bad did you mess it up?"
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Malika
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Post by Malika on Oct 1, 2009 19:44:42 GMT -5
"Promise not to kick me out?"
This was startlingly easy. And yet it was very different from what she'd have done with a rich old man.
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