I could scale up. Put a little more elbow grease into it.
( both of them are speaking about it so breezily, like it's just a matter of a particularly bad roach infestation or something. but there's a ghost of a smile on his face at the fact that she's able to joke about it. most people would recoil in horror at the realities of frank's life.
but she had kept coming back, and coming back, and coming back, and frank hadn't let himself think too closely on that just yet.
they set off in the night, heading towards her car and walking side-by-side. frank castle isn't actually a tall man — he's all compact muscle rather than height, and karen's heels bring her just about to eye-level, but something in him always radiates more personal space. taking up a wide berth where people unconsciously give way on the sidewalk, step aside when he's barreling forward with his shoulders hunched in his jacket.
and yet, here, with her, it's his shoulder bumping just as companionably back against hers, like a wild animal de-clawed. and then it's him standing beside her car, head ducked down, scuffing at some pebbles in the parking lot while karen's unlocking the driver's door. )
Can't remember the last time I just hung out at someone's place.
( it's a quiet, thoughtful admission, murmured more to the night air than directly to karen. most of the time, the things that brought him to her door or curtis' or lieberman's lately meant something had gone dreadfully wrong and he needed help or a favour. heading to her place just for the sake of spending time together, with no other underlying emergency? that's new. that's precious. )
HOW DID TWO WEEKS GO BY
( both of them are speaking about it so breezily, like it's just a matter of a particularly bad roach infestation or something. but there's a ghost of a smile on his face at the fact that she's able to joke about it. most people would recoil in horror at the realities of frank's life.
but she had kept coming back, and coming back, and coming back, and frank hadn't let himself think too closely on that just yet.
they set off in the night, heading towards her car and walking side-by-side. frank castle isn't actually a tall man — he's all compact muscle rather than height, and karen's heels bring her just about to eye-level, but something in him always radiates more personal space. taking up a wide berth where people unconsciously give way on the sidewalk, step aside when he's barreling forward with his shoulders hunched in his jacket.
and yet, here, with her, it's his shoulder bumping just as companionably back against hers, like a wild animal de-clawed. and then it's him standing beside her car, head ducked down, scuffing at some pebbles in the parking lot while karen's unlocking the driver's door. )
Can't remember the last time I just hung out at someone's place.
( it's a quiet, thoughtful admission, murmured more to the night air than directly to karen. most of the time, the things that brought him to her door or curtis' or lieberman's lately meant something had gone dreadfully wrong and he needed help or a favour. heading to her place just for the sake of spending time together, with no other underlying emergency? that's new. that's precious. )