Path of the Vampire forum

OOC: Backdated to 25th October, 2015

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

<Jersey> Adjusting the gift bag in front of her, Jersey debated about removing the black, velvet rabbit ear headband that she’d been wearing in the Halloween spirit as each footstep brought her closer to the animal shelter. But, she decided against it as it would be too much of a hassle for the moment with the bobby pins holding the piece in place. Her hair was pulled back in a neat, damp French braid, although she suspected there was still a few splashes of dried paints of various colors lingering in the lower strands; her clothes consisting of a simple pair of blue jeans and heeled boots, although they only gave her an inch of height. A simple green tunic, to bring out the color of her eyes, had tied it all together after she'd put a simple gold chain on her hips.

The previous few nights had been just what she needed from Clover, friendship, distractions and laughter, but now she needed to do something for herself. Stop running or awkward turtling, or whatever the hell Nakia called it. Upon reaching the shelter, she felt a chill of nerves shoot down her spine as her fingers curled around the handle before she opened it and stepped inside. “You can do it, Jers.” She told herself encouragingly before stepping inside and looking around to see what had changed. In her pocket, she felt her phone vibrate only to be pointedly ignored as she called out, “Hello?” curiously.

Had she missed him?

<Peter Parkman> The nights blended one into the other. Time was consistent, fluent, and it never skipped a beat. Peter kept to its rhythm, each step, each second accounted for. Once upon a time his weeks had been split - certain nights he would be free to do what he wanted. Different nights designated to different things. Although that still applied to the washing, it didn’t apply to anything else.

Every night, he woke up. He fed the dogs. He showered. He dressed. He put the leads on the dogs, and he took them for their walk - he took them to the shelter, where he went at the end of each day to check to make sure everything was in order. He always closed when he got there, making sure to make sure all the animals were fed, all the stock re-ordered, all the pens clean. He didn’t lock the doors until he left. After sunset, it was rare that he had anyone visit. Many people didn’t know he was here, let alone that the shelter might be open.

As soon as he heard the voice, he knew who it was. So did the dogs - from all corners of the shelter there was the sound of scrabbling paws, even a bark or two. Lady, KD, Jack and Ellie, and Hunter - all of them recognised Jersey’s voice, and they rushed for it. Peter himself took a little longer to react. Straightening up, he backed out of the nearest room, securely closing the door behind him. He held a large bag of dog biscuits in his hands.

“Jersey,” he said, his voice deep and surprised. He frowned, canting his head to the side. “Why are you wearing ears?”

<Jersey> She briefly considered that perhaps he had stepped outside, or that he hadn’t heard her before the barks and scrabbling paws caused a smile to break out across her lips. Setting the bag on the counter as the five dogs came into view, Jersey knelt down and greeted them without hesitating. Her hands scratched behind ears, rubbed bellies and stroked backs. A laugh escaped as a tongue brushed across her face and she hugged KD in return. One of Jack’s paws went on her knee, Jersey pressing a kiss to the top of his head while she gave both him and Ellie attention, followed by doing the same to Lady and Hunter.

The flurry of tails around her made the woman grin, never getting over their reactions.

It was refreshing, calming.

She heard Peter’s footsteps and pressed a kiss to Ellie’s head before standing up, the same smile playing across her lips as she heard his voice. The question didn’t surprise her, as she had expected it from him at some point through the evening, but it hadn’t been the first she thought she’d hear. “I’ve been dressing up a bit for Halloween at work. I had a large cotton ball attached to my butt, earlier, too.” She had taken it off after the first ten comments, but it had looked nice. “Plus, I’ve been summoned lately by a friend for social activities so it never hurts to be prepared.”

Reaching up, she readjusted the headband in case one of the dogs had knocked it off center. A bobby pin had come undone and carefully, she slid it back in place before her hands lowered. She picked up the bag and held it out to him, “There’s something in there for you, and one of Lucas’ coworkers had given him a lot of baked goods, so I thought perhaps some of the humans on staff would like them?”

<Peter Parkman> Peter visibly shuddered at the idea of being randomly summoned, without warning, to attend social activities. The entire notion was enough to give him some kind of panic attack; he couldn’t even think about it without wanting to argue why it wasn’t a good idea. If he could somehow bar himself from being summoned anywhere, ever, by anyone, he would. Keara had done it one too many times - but not for a while. He hadn’t seen or spoken to Keara in a while. Maybe she had finally accepted that he wasn’t going to change.

As Jersey held out the bag, Peter nearly cringed. Something in there for him? Wasn’t this a conversation they’d had a lot of in the past? Peter didn’t like surprises. He didn’t like gifts given that weren’t on the specific designated days. He shook his head as he gestured for Jersey to come with him - he hadn’t finished feeding all the animals, and he was on a schedule. He didn’t take the bag yet - he was busy. But he could at least talk while he was working.

“We’ve talked about this,” he said, matter-of-factly. “Thank you for the cupcakes - I’ll leave a note on them in the kitchen,” he said. If it wasn’t a gift for him, then it didn’t matter. He hoped that he had heard wrong - that there was just the one thing in the bag. The cupcakes. That weren’t for him. “But you know I don’t like you buying me presents when I have nothing to give to you in return…” he said. “And for no reason…”

<Jersey> She saw him shudder and stepped forward, carefully avoiding any tails before she set her hand on his forearm and gave a soft squeeze. Afterwards, she stepped back to give him space and reached down to scratch behind dog ears and chins before looking up at him under her lashes. “We’ve talked about it,” She spoke in confirmation, before adding, “however, as I’ve told you before, I don’t care.” Jersey shared the same tone that he had before following after Peter as he had gestured.

Holding onto the bag, she gave a soft nod of her head, “Lucas said he didn’t mind taking them, but I was headed out this way anyway.” The blonde hummed briefly, her green eyes sweeping over the tall man’s form. “I think they’re chocolate and vanilla.” Her boots clicked on the tile as she followed after him, listening to him speaking and shaking her head. “I didn’t buy this for you.” Which, was the truth, she had bought the materials to create the gift, and then put her time and effort into creating the designs, “I made it.”

Jersey picked up her pace so that she’d fall into step beside Peter, looking up at him, “And you don’t have to give me anything in return. It’s a gift, Peter. Not a favor.” Gently, she elbowed him in the hip, “I also don’t see why you think I have to have a reason to give you anything. You a-were,” She corrected herself smoothy, “my boyfriend and you still are a very good friend of mine and someone I hold close to my heart. I can dote if I please, and so, I please.”

<Peter Parkman> Peter stopped, all of a sudden, not realising how close Jersey was; his body collided with hers, and he awkwardly held a hand out to steady her, clearing his throat. There was a thrumming in his chest that he hadn’t felt for a long while. It was a special kind of anxiety that only Jersey had really managed to inspire. There was something sweet about it; something thrilling, which he supposed was the reason why he had so often been able to bend a little for her. Though, she hadn’t asked it of him too much. She’d always been too willing to accommodate his strange whims. Which, he assumed, was the reason why she had left. It was too stifling for her. And he understood. It was stifling for him, too, but it wasn’t something that he could do without.

His life had changed, and he supposed Jersey had something to do with it. After she left he had told himself that he was okay. And he had moved in certain ways, but in other ways he had become stuck. Frozen. Jacey and Sean had been brought into the folds of Vedarian but they were not around much. Which was not their fault - they had a recluse for a sire, so why should they hang around? it was understandable, if they chose to live more exciting lives and discover more than what their sire had offered to them. Because he only left his apartment to come to the shelter. In reality, he had not moved on at all.

“I still feel like I should give you something,” he said. He knew that Jersey didn’t like it - that she wanted to give him something for the sake of giving it to him, but he didn’t like feeling like there was something outstanding - some kindness that he had not reciprocated in some way. His back was up against a door, and his hand groped for the handle; the door opened and he slipped inside; there was an instant meow - a high-pitched sound. A cat, just under a year old, black and white and hungry. He turned away from Jersey and bent down to pet the circling cat, and scoop some biscuits into her dish. “This is Quentin…” he said, glancing over his shoulder. It was almost a hint…

<Jersey> The hand that didn’t take his went to his bicep as she managed to not trip before she smiled and gave his arm a small squeeze, letting go afterwards. She took a step back, remembering what he had said about space previously. “Sorry about that.” Although, it wasn’t a secret that she enjoyed being near him. Despite his OCD and different lifestyle, Peter had always been a soothing presence for Jersey - although, and she admitted it easier, that he could get on her nerves at times. But, she didn’t suffer as much as some probably thought. The blonde looked down afterwards, studying the carefully wrapped gift sitting on top of the container of treats from Lucas.

“Don’t chicken out.” The words echoed through her mind and she gripped the bag handle lightly on her lap.

It wasn’t particularly Peter that she wanted to run from, but the situation, that she wasn’t entirely sure how to handle the fact she’d hurt him. And, she had promised him that she wouldn’t. Biting down on her bottom lip lightly, she listened to him and resisted the urge to sigh. “You shouldn’t feel that way. Really, Peter, I want you to have it.” From habit, she stepped forward while he was against the door, but the door opened and the distance fell away as he slipped into the room. She hadn’t been expecting the meow, however, as she followed after him and smiled at the cat with a chuckle escaping past her lips.

“She’s very pretty.” Jersey stated softly, although she caught the near hint as she stepped forward and set her hand on his shoulder gently.

<Peter Parkman> Peter opened his mouth to respond; to tell Jersey all about Quentin and why she was here. They always had sad stories, the animals that ended up in the shelter. But Peter knew every single one of them. He knew exactly how to tell them, too, to try to encourage people to adopt. Not that he dealt with many customers, himself. But there were the odd few. He encouraged his staff to know all the stories, too. Their goal was to find as many good homes for the animals as possible. Because if they didn’t, Peter would end up just taking them home with him.

The touch on his shoulder distracted him, however. Where the first word was uttered, it was garbled as it was barely formed by his tongue. His gaze which had settled adoringly upon Quentin - now purring impatiently in his grasp - drifted to Jersey’s arm, then up the length of it to her hand. It disarmed him in a way that he could not describe. It caught him off guard. It was not expected, the kind of intimacy they once had but which he thought was over.

Although he recalled Jersey’s sentiments from the last time they met - that she regretted leaving him - Peter still did not know what to do. He did not know what was expected of him. Just as he could not decipher what he was feeling when Jersey left, and it was Keara who had to point out to him that he was depressed, and grieving in his own strange way, he could not figure out what it was he was feeling now. Emotions were a foreign language to Peter - they always had been. They were flighty and uncontrollable, so most of the time he pretended like they didn’t exist. He had to lick his lips and remind himself what he’d been about to do.

“She… she was found beneath the tire of a car, hiding from the rain. The girl who brought her in was so upset, but she couldn’t keep her. The collar … the collar was so tight around her neck we had to cut it off. The clasp had rusted…” he said. Even as he said it, his fingers absently ruffled the fur at Quentin’s un-collared neck. The skin was still raw and healing. He swallowed, staring at Jersey. Somehow frozen in place.

<Jersey> She looked at the raw wound on the cat's neck and found a frown playing across her lips as she imagined what the poor thing had gone through until she heard Peter make a noise. Her emerald green eyes moved from the animal he was petting back to him, her eyebrow lifting softly at the garbled word before she smiled a bit and resisted the urge to chuckle. She gave his shoulder a repeated soft squeeze and then lightly set the bag down beside them, lowering herself to crouch afterwards before her hand reluctantly was moved from his shoulder.

Reaching up, she removed the headband and tucked it away in the bag for the time being as she watched Quentin with a smile lifting on her lips. “It’s so sweet how all every animal I’ve seen you come in contact with loves you.” Gently, Jersey reached out to allow the cat to sniff her fingers before she began to scratch the animal behind her ears. As she did, she felt Peter’s gaze and looked at him out of the corner of her eyes. She watched him lick his lips, remembering too easily how they had always felt on hers and scolded herself mentally to push the thought aside before looking down at the purring animal.

Mindful of the rawness of Quentin’s neck, Jersey scratched underneath her chin and then traveled along her fur to scratch a couple of inches away from Peter’s hand. Her fingertips occasionally and purposely brushing his before moving elsewhere. The frown returned as she heard him speak, listening to the cat's story before Jersey’s knee touched the ground. “What do you think, Quentin?” She asked softly as she trailed her hand softly to trace along the animals back, feeling her arch against her touch, “Would you like to be adopted tonight?” She thought about Bear and Mew, figuring neither animal would mind.

Her head inclined to Peter as she met his stare, a smile dancing across her lips, “That is if you don't think she'll get any takers, soon.” Her green eyes dropped from his to his lips, gently biting hers before she turned her attention back to the purring Quentin as she considered what to say next. “You know, I was wondering if you happened to know of any good fostering animal programs. Maybe I can stop by sometime, if so?”

<Peter Parkman> As soon as Jersey’s hand was removed, the moment passed. The odd, anxious discomfort abated and Peter reclaimed some of his confidence - if he could be said to have any confidence to begin with. If he had any confidence, it was probably due only to his ignorance. It could be claimed from the world around him; from the numbers and the logic.

He had no idea why animals seemed to like him so much. Maybe they were drawn to his oddities. Maybe they realised they were his cure, his calm. Maybe they knew he was alone, somehow, even when he wasn’t; they could sense it, and they strove to fill the spaces. Or maybe Peter was projecting those thoughts - a subconscious hope. Or maybe it was just some unexplained mystery; something that a few are born with. An animal affinity. He cleared his throat.

“She has been here two weeks. The animals that are wounded or recovering get looked over, sometimes. The cute ones are taken first,” he said, matter-of-fact. It was the way of life. Most people wanted cute animals. Animals they could love. The animals that looked like they had been loved less were always the last to go - if they went at all. He blinked at Jersey, then, and considered her question. He shook his head.

“You want to stop by if I do know of fostering programs? Or if I don’t? Do you think I should set one up?” he asked, confused by the question. Was it a question or a suggestion? “Do you want to foster?”

<Jersey> She didn’t understand how people could just give up or hurt their animals. Even if she stepped on a tail, Jersey immediately felt horrible and began to apologize profusely. Softly, she continued to pet Quentin as the cat purred loudly and she smiled softly. In the months she'd been away from Peter and back home, she had learned that she was very fond of cats even though she loved dogs and there was no preference. Her gaze drifted back to Peter as he cleared his throat again.

“Something in your throat, handsome?” She asked, curious.

Her green eyes went back to the cat as she listened, looking over the wound. It was healing nicely. “Sometimes the wounded ones are the ones that need the most love, people need to stop being superficial.” A sigh followed her words and she traced her fingertips along the cat’s spine before repeating the action. A giggle escaped her lips as the purring grew louder.

At his question, Jersey shrugged. “Well, admittedly I intend to stop by another night anyway.” An excuse would have just been easier, or at least given her a reason not to end up asking Clover to lock her out of her apartment so she wouldn't chicken out. “But I had been giving thought to the idea of fostering animals lately, yes. And was wondering if there had been one here, or if you knew of any and would prefer time to gather information on them for me so that I could pick them up later.”

Jersey thought about how often she'd always run into him randomly when she was human, and now, she had to coax herself to plan seeing him. It bothered her, but it wouldn't be when he expected it. He might hate surprises, but they amused her - mostly. “One way or another you’ll end up seeing me again, soon.” Her green eyes sparkled at that.

<Peter Parkman> Peter could only blink. It wasn’t the first time she’d called him handsome after their breakup, but it was a slip into familiarity, into a kind of normalcy that he didn’t realise he missed. Every time she touched him, every time she did something that she used to do, it gave him a glimpse through a tiny crack in the walls he’d very steadily built up around him; walls that he’d built without even realising what he was doing.

There was a lot in what she said. A lot that his brain had to compute. Not only a sentence which she had applied to animals but which he thought could apply to humans, too, but the promise of future unplanned drop-ins. That, as well as a further business venture that he himself had not yet thought of.

“I…” he paused. “We can set up a night. A particular time,” he said. Yes, a particular time would be best. One that he could plan for, and around. Shuffle his duties a little bit. Thinking about it reminded him that he had other animals to feed; he turned toward the door, but was unsure whether Jersey actually wanted to take Quentin or not. Unsure whether he should stay. This was what she did to him, wasn’t it? What she had always done.

“You can help me with it. If… you aren’t busy, that is. You could… organise it for me?” he said. She could contact the right people and organise the meetings that Peter himself was too structured to commit to. Jersey would be around more often, too, if she were to take up that part of the business; become something like a partner in this endeavour. It pleased Peter to think of it, but he didn’t realise what it was he was feeling. Mostly, the feeling was eclipsed by his anxiety to continue with the feeding.

<Jersey> A particular time. Jersey considered this as she continued to scratch behind the ears of the purring cat, smiling as her fingers were sniffed a few times before she was rubbed against. “Well, how about after your shower when you wake, I’ll stop by the apartment.” She looked away from Quentin up to Peter, still crouched down as she pet the animal, “And bring breakfast.” By now, it was done just to annoy him and she enjoyed it thoroughly before finally, she stood. The smirk on her lips was a clear indication.

“And, adoption papers will be needed for this one, before I leave here.”

Jersey gestured towards Quentin, who headed towards the biscuits to eat, deciding it’d be good to mention them before picking the bag back up. His offer for her to help, however, surprised her and a smile played across her lips. “I’d like that.” It would give her something to do when she wasn’t working, “And I’m not busy.” The blonde gave a shake of her head. Occasionally, she found herself being summoned by Clover at random, but she could always just give the woman a heads up beforehand.

She adjusted the bag in her hold as she wandered towards the man, “I’ve found a lot of time on my hands to the point I took up painting, like you suggested at one point.” As she said it, Jersey was reminded of the fact she was definitely not a good artist aside from when she threw darts at the canvas, but it was normally done out of frustration and to make a contained mess. “But first, why don’t I help you feed some of these animals?” She offered, “That way we can get it done faster and talk a bit, and so you can open your gift.”

<Peter Parkman> At first, when she said she would ‘bring breakfast’ Peter was confused. He imagined eggs and bacon. Or a bagel. Muesli in a take-away container, even. Though he realised she was probably talking about blood - still in a take-away container. It caused an internal twitch, but it wasn’t so much the mention of ‘breakfast’ as the time she had suggested. She was throwing too many things at him at once and he felt the urge to leave the room and close the door, leaving Jersey inside. Just for a little while. Just so he could gather his thoughts and respond when they were all in order.

Except Jersey wasn’t a thing or an animal that he could lock in the room. The rooms had no locks, and she was a thinking, logical person who could just open the door again and follow him, while he was trying to order his thoughts. Instead, he was forced to order them while she was watching, which resulted in him staring rather anxiously. At first he nodded as he led Jersey back out to the counter area; he grabbed the container with the dog biscuits in it, and handed it over. If she could feed the dogs while he fed the rest of the cats and changed the seed in the bird cages, then some time would be saved. But then, he had to shake his head.

“I wake up and I shower and I have my blood delivered,” he said. Blood. Not breakfast. There was no point being coy, or trying to deny what it was that they had to eat. “I then have to come here immediately to relieve the last person. I close up. Always. Every night, now, since…” he shuddered. The one employee who had closed up for Peter had been mauled and killed by a wild animal. Since then, Peter had done it himself. He shook his head to relieve himself of the imagery. It was almost as if he could still smell the blood. There’d been so much of it. And he’d been unable to save the boy.

“They finish at a particular time. I have to be here,” he said. Meaning he couldn’t linger at home. He backed away, heading toward the next cat enclosure - hoping that Jersey would head toward the side of the building that housed the dogs. Not because he wanted to be rid of her, but because he was wary of the time passing.

<Jersey> This was frustrating. Jersey wouldn't admit it, but as she listened to Peter actually say blood, it made her realize that she hadn’t been the only one to change a bit. He hadn’t corrected her as he normally would have and she wasn't sure what to say next. Her concern for the man opposite of her peaked when he shuddered, what had happened? Part of her didn’t want to ask.

She took the container without any difficulty, narrowing her eyes at him in thought. Of course, she understood. And, she knew she didn't like to push. However, there were two little voices in the back of her head telling her to not give in. One sounded very similar to Clover, who often suggested things that Jersey would deny without any hesitation. “Fine, I’ll just meet you at the start of the path and we can walk together to the shelter the day that's decided on.”

The words were simple and she moved over to the man, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his lips without thinking about it and sauntered away towards the other side of the building. It only was until her hand touched the doorknob that she realized what she had done and the blonde paused. At first, Jersey thought “oops” even if it wasn't intentional. It had been from habit, a way to distract him from the clear anxiety, but was it really an oops?

Jersey turned slightly to look at him over her shoulder. She parted her lips to speak, and closed them. She'd told him she had still loved him previously and she understood that they weren't together, that she had hurt him. Her heart allowed her to act more before she thought about it, and she needed to change that. She didn’t do logic the way that Peter did. She started to apologize, but knew that she wouldn’t mean it. “I-I should probably go feed the dogs.”

She willed her feet to move, but they didn’t get the message.

<Peter Parkman> That made Peter feel better. The fact she had said she would meet him on the day that’s decided on. It meant the meeting would be organised in advance; that it wouldn’t take him out of his schedule, and he wouldn’t have to shift things around. It wasn’t as if Jersey sounded happy about it, but there was nothing much that Peter could do. There was nothing his logical mind would allow him to do.

Except, then, Jersey didn’t head to her side of the shelter. Instead, she advanced upon him. She did so without hesitation, without any seeming plot. She moved like someone who knew what they were doing, so much so that they didn’t have to think about it.

Peter didn’t have time to react. The kiss caught him off guard, but reminded him what it was like to be kissed. It was something he had missed without realising it, until now. But he couldn’t explore the feeling. It was as fleeting as Jersey’s kiss, and it was banished as soon as she pulled away. She moved to the other side of the building and Peter remained where he was.He heard her say something about feeding the dogs and he just nodded; his tongue felt thick and unwieldy. He was staring at the space Jersey had previously occupied; it took him a few moments to actually look up, and see her watching him from the other side of the room.

“The uhm… the …” he huffed, and stopped. He shook his head. “Aaah … one, four, and six are big dogs. They get three cups. Two and seven are uhm… they get two, and … the rest just one,” he nodded, his words both rushed and stumbled over. Only then did he turn back toward the cats, disappearing into one of the enclosures to do what he had first set out to do. He worked by habit, knowing this routine by heart. The cats got what they needed, regardless of the fact that he was completely frazzled.

<Jersey> She was excited that he didn’t seem to tense at the kiss, but she bit her bottom lip and gave a nod of her head as she took notes mentally. The bigger dogs got three, medium dogs got two, and the rest one. It was simple enough. A small smile played across her lips, keeping to herself that she thought he was cute when frazzled, even if she was a bit nervous herself. Jersey still liked kissing him, she wondered if it would ever fade. Her green eyes watched as he went to where the cats were before heading to where the dogs were waiting.

It caused her to chuckle a bit at the sound of excited barking, the woman beginning to scoop three cups into the first dog's bowl. Her fingers scratched behind the animal's ears before she moved along. She counted each cup, doing as what would be needed as her hair fell over her shoulder in its braid. It was only then that she noticed the paint in her hair, and Jersey gave a soft shake of her head. She’d take it out later. As she worked, she began to consider the project that would be on her mind for a while.

“I think it’ll be perfect.” She spoke out loud to a small dog and straightened up afterwards. She ran her tongue over her teeth lightly, moving to the next. What was she going to do, though? It was clear that her heart was controlling her actions more than her head were. Would it be awkward? Clover told her to keep pushing forward and a sigh escaped past her lips as she knelt down to turn a bowl back over of the seventh dog before giving the animal their meal. Jersey considered what she'd say next, what she could say next.

Or what she would say, rather. After a few moments, as she reached the last few kennels, Jersey focused and reached out to Peter’s mind before speaking. Soft, mindful of the volume and the fact she didn't want to startle him. “That wasn’t… well, I guess I could say it was on purpose because I didn’t stop myself. It wasn’t planned.” She wet her lips, remembering the way that his had felt on hers even if brief.

<Peter Parkman> The cats had no idea about Peter’s plight. They offered no suggestions. He had no voices in his head bar his own - he could probably talk to Keara about things, but he wasn’t too aware of anything to be able to vocalise what may or may not be wrong. If there was anything wrong at all. He had not seen or heard from Keara in a while - he tried to distract himself with thoughts of his sire, and where she might be, and whether he should try to contact her. He did not doubt that she was around and that she would come to him if he asked - but he had no idea what he would ask.

Peter was also well aware that the spanner in the cogs, as far as he and Jersey were concerned, was him. She had told him she regretted leaving him. She continued to visit. She had kissed him - a small kiss, but a kiss nonetheless. It would be so easy to fall into habit, to go back to the way things were. But he was his own worst enemy. Logic was his own worst enemy. A selfless kind of logic that told him that Jersey must have forgotten what he was like to live with. And he was worse, now. Much, much worse - or so he surmised.

He’d gotten through the cats and was feeding the birds when Jersey spoke to him. He had cleaned out all of the dishes, removing all the old seeds, and was now preparing to replace them all with new seed. When he heard Jersey’s voice, at first he assumed she must be in the doorway; he turned to face her, surprised that he had not heard her coming. Unprepared, he knocked one of the cages and the bird inside started screeching - he’d woken it up. The screeching startled Peter, who dropped the seed; the container crashed to the floor and the seed spread like a wave, creating a larger mess than Peter had anticipated. The noise also woke the other birds, who all joined in the chorus. He imagined this was what they might sound like during the day, when they weren’t asleep.

It wasn’t exactly cacophonous, but there were enough of them for it to be far noisier than Peter thought he could handle. He pressed the heels of his palms against his ears and closed his eyes, standing stock still and silent as he waited for it to pass. His lips were pressed tightly together even though he wanted to shout at Jersey across the building.

<Jersey> When the dogs were fed, she checked to make sure each dog had clean water and that their kennels weren’t dirty before leaving. Jersey then returned the food from where Peter had brought it out. She hummed quietly to herself, picking up the gift bag from where she had left it before she debated on where to go. Should she wait for him? She scoffed the tip of her boot against the floor, peering down into the bag.

After a few minutes, she decided to continue on and traced his footsteps through the cat enclosure. A small smile fell across her lips and she lightly scratched at a spot inside of her elbow before slipping out. When she heard the ruckus, Jersey grimaced a bit. The sound wasn’t her favorite, but she carefully opened the door and blinked at the sight in front of her. She was surprised to see the bird seed on the floor and a frown played across her lips as her green eyes lifted from Peter’s feet, up to the man's features.

It hadn't crossed her mind that she might have startled him. Setting the bag down by the door, Jersey walked over to Peter as the birds began to quiet down. Moving around in buildings as a thief had made it easier for her to be stealthier, even if she did still have her clumsy moments. Her hand lifted, gently grasping one of his hands. “I’m sorry.” She apologized often and she knew it, so Jersey was mindful of her volume when she spoke out loud, her voice only for his ears, “Why don't you go find somewhere quiet? I can finish up in here. I didn’t mean to startle you, if I had.”

Jersey looked up at Peter, her fingertips softly tracing over the back of his hand. Concern played across her features. Had she pushed him over? Was he going to end up in a panic? The questions flooded through her mind as she fell quiet and simply waited.

<Peter Parkman> It wasn’t planned, she had said. Those words were the ones that echoed around his skull while his hands tried to dim the noise of the birds around him. He was as calm as he could be, standing there like an incompetent ***; it was the relative quiet that he needed to sort through the events of the night. And the night HAD been eventful, in comparison to any other. Nothing ever happened. He’d come to work and he’d feed the animals and he’d close up and he’d go home again. Every time he left he’d want to take every single one of them with him, but it wasn’t logistical. It wasn’t reasonable. They wouldn’t all fit in his apartment. They had all the comforts they required, here - even humans hired as volunteers during the day to play with them, to cuddle them, to make them all feel loved.

But he wasn’t think about that now. He was thinking about Jersey’s words. It wasn’t planned. He’d wanted to shout at her first to get her attention - mainly to ask her why she had to talk to him like that. How many times had he told her he couldn’t respond? It was only that which bothered him, mainly. The fact that he could not respond. When she entered the room and apologised, and suggested cleaning up the mess he made, he just shook his head. He could hear her just fine, even though the heels of his palms as they pressed tight against his ears. When he felt her fingers against his hand, the soothing touch, he shivered. It wasn’t altogether a bad shiver. But he still didn’t open his eyes. He didn’t want to look at her as he asked his question - the one that now seemed more important than asking her why she chose to speak into his head to begin with.

“Does that mean you take it back?” he asked. “Because you didn’t plan it. Was that an apology? Was it a mistake?” he asked. It confused him. He wasn’t sure what was happening. He wasn’t sure why Jersey would do things that she didn’t plan. How could she not plan things? How could she live like that? Peter had to remind himself that not everyone was like him. Not everyone had to have everything planned. Other people liked to do things on a whim.

He finally opened his eyes and loosened his hands against his ears. His eyes were wide and questioning. “What are you doing?” he asked. What did she plan - or not plan - to do now? That’s all he needed to know.

<Jersey> She ran her tongue over her teeth as she listened to the birds calming, her fingers continued to trace over his skin. It bothered her often that they weren't the way they used to, that the intimacy had left because she hadn’t listened to what she felt was right. Even if Peter’s OCD got on her nerves, it had never been bad enough for her to leave him. It frustrated her, but she did things that had frustrated him - she was sure of it. His question caught her off guard and for a moment, the blonde was confused.

Did she take it back? She understood just after.

“No.” The words left her lips without having to think about it. She never wanted to take back any kiss she'd given him. Her hand fell to rest over the curve of his jaw, her thumb staying put as she lifted her gaze to his features. “I enjoy kissing you, I miss it. I miss us too much to ever want to take it back.” She admitted, shifting her weight. Her thumb moved along his jaw down to his chin, a smile playing across her lips as she watched his eyes open. “Even unplanned, I couldn’t call it a mistake.” And she knew she couldn’t, because she didn't regret it.

Her lips twitched in amusement. Wasn’t that the question of the minute? What was she going to do? Jersey shrugged. She looked down, at the bird seed before lifting her gaze to his. His question echoed through her mind and she slid her thumb up to trace over his bottom lip as her gaze dropped briefly before returning to his gaze. “I’d like,” Jersey paused and gave a sheepish smile, “to kiss you again. And then eventually get this seed cleaned up before asking you if we could give us another try.” It was out and she felt better saying it.

And after she had, Jersey leaned up and pressed another kiss to his lips, but she let it linger for a few moments before she pulled back without running away.

<Peter Parkman> The question had been broad. What are you doing? he had asked. Why was she here? Was it all due to some subconscious need? That was the kind of thing that Peter was not accustomed to. He didn’t act on subconscious needs. What he needed was formality and stability in numbers. He wanted to be organised, and he wanted to know what was going to come next.

And he wasn’t disappointed. There were no more surprises. Jersey answered his questions without hesitation, and with honesty. And she told him what she wanted - and gave him no choice but to follow through.

When she kissed him, at the exact moment that her lips connected with his, he knew it was what he had been hoping for. Although the realisation flooded him with fear and doubt, there was also that familiar excitement. His hand dropped to take Jersey’s, his fingers twining with hers. When she pulled away, Peter didn’t say anything. Whatever words may have been stuck in his throat were swallowed as he merely nodded.

When she kissed him, it was like the seed didn’t exist. The twittering of the birds became an ordinary background noise rather than something to be concerned with. Time slipped away, and it didn’t matter. Peter pulled his lower lip into his mouth, his tongue flicking over the surface before he leaned down for another kiss. Yes, he realised. This one was long enough for him to discern - yes, he had missed kissing Jersey. It was obvious. And he wanted to do it again. Not hasty or fleeting or like habit - but like they used to, when relaxing at home on the couch. He was such a different person, then.

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--
<Jersey> Part of her had thought that he would have tried to leave, saying that he needed to continue with his tasks for the evening. She had expected for him to stutter, or tense up and step away now that the words had left her lips. It scared her, the idea of him running away or leaving her there. Going to the shelter, her intentions had just been to give him the gift and ask him about a fostering system, she had wanted to see if he’d want to spend time together. She hadn’t expected to kiss him, to want to kiss him again. Things happened for a reason, and it made her wonder what this reason was.

She smiled at his touch, squeezing his hand as she relaxed and looked down at them. Her thumb traced over one of his long fingers before she lifted her chin and looked back up at him. The smile grew when she noticed the nod. Jersey wanted to cheer, to giggle and she could feel the happiness spreading through her. But, she didn’t as she tried to think of something to say. There weren’t many times where she found herself speechless, but as Jersey continued to think, she found it was better to keep it that way as he leaned in.

Automatically, she leaned up once more and met him halfway. Her free hand lifted to rest against the side of his neck, stepping closer to lessen the distance between them before squeezing the other once more. A soft sigh of contentment was muffled by the kiss, the sounds of the birds fading as her attention was focused solely on the man in front of her; the way his lips felt on hers, the smell of his soap familiar and the smoothness of his skin, it only strengthened her thought that she'd made the wrong choice.

Longing. It was one word to describe how she'd been feeling since she’d gotten back. She’d longed for things to go back to normal, for a moment like this to remind her that she didn't need to know much about Marilee. “If only that epiphany hadn’t come with the cost of dying, again.” Jersey thought before pushing it aside and gently nipping at his bottom lip as she liked to.

<Peter Parkman> Peter remembered how to be this. How to be a man in love. That was what he realised as he stood there with Jersey; even as he heard a couple of the dogs push their way into the room. Some of the birds were upset by the intrusion of the four-legged mammals, but Peter knew they wouldn’t harm the birds. Jack and Ellie, weird as they were, started eating the bird seed. They probably shouldn’t. But Peter wasn’t too distracted to do anything about it.

He was still in love with Jersey. He had never stopped. He hadn’t stopped to think about it; to realise that he missed her, or that he should try to move on. Moving on had never been an option. Despite Keara’s pep talks, he’d remained solitary. He’d retreated so far into his shell, and was only now tasting the outside world. When Jersey nipped at his lip, he jerked - just a tiny bit. He’d forgotten she liked to do that. Kissing her now was like a rediscovery. But in rediscovering the ways in which he liked to kiss, he remembered all his worries, too. The reasons why he had become solitary.

He pulled away and took a breath that he did not need. The first thing he noticed was all that seed, spread out over the ground, and the dogs happily eating it. He felt his heart lurch in his chest - or something that felt vaguely like like that - as his anxieties rushed back in. He took a step back.

“I’m … I have been alone. I’m worse now. You left and part of the reason was me and I’m worse now. I haven’t had anyone to…” he shook his head. “Are you sure it’s what you want? Are you sure you…?” he stopped. He was talking too much and he didn’t quite know what he wanted to say. Except that he was worried, that it would happen all over again. All of it. Even the part where he lost control and became someone that he did not recognise - someone he wanted so much to forget, but couldn’t.

<Jersey> She felt the jerk and softly pressed her lips to the spot from habit. When the kiss was broken, Jersey didn’t bother to hide the disappointment that played across her features. She didn’t feel the need to, why should she hide any of it from him? She'd never done it before and she didn't want to start now. She wasn't disappointed in him, but the fact it had ended. Her thumb traced over his knuckles before she looked up at him, watching.

Peter mentioned the reason she'd left was partly him and she let go of his hand reluctantly before folding her arms in front of her chest. She didn’t say anything, wanting him to get it all out. She glanced down at Jack and Ellie, her eyebrow lifting at the two before looking back up at Peter and when he stopped, the blonde stepped forward and lowered her arms. One of her hands lifted to cup his cheek and she frowned.

Jersey’s features softened, and she gently stroked her thumb over his cheekbone. “Stop. Alright? I know I can say it every way from Sunday and you will still think it, but you are not the reason I left, Peter. At all.” She wet her lips as she paused, her gaze searching his, “I made a mistake, one I never should have made because in the end, I hurt the man I love.” She swallowed, “I’ll get frustrated with you occasionally, but all women get frustrated with the one they love. It happens.”

Inclining her head softly, she lifted her lips into a gentle smile and she leaned up once more to brush her lips to his. “I know what I want. I want you, I have from the moment I realized I had feelings for you.” And Jersey glanced down before looking up at him, “What do you want?” She asked, cautiously, but curious.

<Peter Parkman> It was such a loaded question. You could ask any person what they wanted, and the responses would be varied. Some would give silly answers. Some wanted only frivolous things, which was probably a good thing. It probably meant that those people were fulfilled in their lives; they had the important things. Some answers would be profound, and as the question slammed into Peter’s brain he had to blink as if he had been hit over the head.

What did he want? For a moment, his eyes glazed. How many years ago was it, now? How much had happened, since? But, once upon a time he had been settled. He’d been engaged, and he’d been happy. He’d been one of those people who’d give frivolous answers to such seemingly profound questions. It had all been ripped away from him, however; his life had crumbled like a stack of cards, or a precarious game of pick-up sticks. Lily’s death was the first misplaced stick, and the rest had been falling ever since.

“I want to be normal,” he said, finally realising that’s what his memories were bringing him to. He wanted the normalcy that he’d experienced for the briefest moment of his life. He knew that it was not entirely possible, given that they were vampires that had to drink blood to survive. There was nothing normal in that. But, within that, surely some compromise could be found? He had begun to feel at home with Jersey. There was something… something that they had not yet reached, but they had been close.

“I missed you,” he said, finally, his head bowing so that his forehead could rest against Jersey’s. “I didn’t realise it until you kissed me. I’ve missed you so much…”

<Jersey> She waited for his answer, swallowing her nerves as she considered the wide range that she could receive. The blonde wondered if she should go, but she didn't voice it as the thought was banished - no, it wouldn't serve any purpose but giving him the wrong idea. She looked into his eyes as they glazed and brushed her thumb lovingly against the man’s skin. His mind had always interested her, the way he thought and their earlier conversations stuck with her.

He had once called her strong, and Jersey couldn’t help but think the same about him, knowing he’d been through hell, as he spoke. The word ‘normal’ was something simple, but complicated. He’d been through more than she had and she couldn't blame him for wanting it. Lowering her hand to rest against his collarbone, Jersey’s green eyes studied his handsome features and she nodded. “We can work towards that, I’m sure of it.” It would take a while, but normal could be reached on some level, for them as vampires.

Their kind of normal.

Closing her eyes as she felt his forehead on hers, Jersey took his hands and laced their fingers back together. His words caused her smile to grow. “Maybe I should have kissed you sooner.” She murmured, thinking about it. “I should have never left you.” Jersey reopened her eyes, “I’ve missed you, too.” Softly, the blonde bumped her forehead against his and she wet her lips.

“I haven't liked being without you.” She bit her bottom lip, “It felt wrong.” Jersey lifted her head to press a kiss to his jaw before returning her forehead to his. “I love you, Peter.”

<Peter Parkman> There were so many things that seemed to fit, now. So many explanations for the way he had felt. Wrong, Jersey had said. She felt wrong to be without him, and Peter supposed he had felt the same. Everything felt wrong and so his life had undergone massive upheaval so that he could try to make himself feel right again. Except he hadn’t known that was what he was doing. He hadn’t known what he was trying to fix. And even though he had discovered his new routine and it had led to no trouble, he still hadn’t felt quite right.

Like he had experienced something outside the squares that he had built for himself, and so going back into those squares was never going to work. It was never going to quite fit. Now, although there remained that anxious knot in his stomach due to the spilled seed and the assumption that the future wasn’t going to be quite as routine as he had planned, he couldn’t help but feel relief. He recognised the emotion, and it took him by surprise. He laughed.

“I love you, too. I don’t think I ever stopped,” he said. He had put a box around his heart and nailed it shut; only now the nails were pried loose, and he was free to love again. Free to admit to it. To give in. He kissed her, swift and quick, upon the lips before he sighed. The dogs were still eating the seed.

“But we really need to clean this up. I need to... “ he said, and laughed again. “I need to finish feeding the birds,” he said. It was easier to focus on what to do next, rather than on what was going to happen afterwards. They had each told the other that they missed and loved each other. But Peter had a new apartment. The cabin they had shared was in disuse. He didn’t ask those questions. Not just yet.

<Jersey> “It’s actually real.” Deep down, she had been afraid that he wouldn’t have returned her sentiments because he didn’t love her any more and he didn’t miss her. It wasn’t something that she had been to terms with, but as Jersey heard the words, there was a weight that disappeared from her heart that she hadn’t paid mind to. In some ways, she wanted to cry from joy and the blonde lifted her hands to lightly wipe underneath her eyes in case she already was before she hooked her pointer fingers on his belt loops.

He laughed and the sound washed over her. “I don’t think I can tell you how happy that makes me.” Jersey admitted. She thought about pinching herself, to make sure that she wouldn’t be waking up on Kallista’s floor soon and end up crying to Clover who had problems of her own. She didn’t like to think that it could possibly be a dream that her subconscious was playing on her to punish her for some reason.

She let go of him gently and gave a nod of her head. “We can do that.” Looking down, Jersey lifted her eyebrow at Jack and Ellie before she, too, laughed. “The broom is where?” She knelt down to scratch behind their ears and softly nudged their muzzles away from the bird seed. The blonde stood up again and looked up at Peter while she thought about the future.

“And do you need another container, or did you just spill it?” Jersey asked as she tore her gaze away from the man, back to the mess. A lazy smile fell on her lips as she knew that she didn't care what happened next as long as things were good between them.

<Peter Parkman> Peter was a practical man; a logical one. When Jersey pulled away to wipe at her eyes, he could have sworn that she was crying. His mouth dropped open, a frown forming between his brows; the question was on the tip of his tongue - what was wrong? What had he said? Before he could utter the question, however, she told him how happy she was. These, it would seem, were those contradictory ‘happy tears’. Peter found himself reaching up to wipe at the wetness, anyway - even if there was none there. Maybe living so long alone with the dogs had Peter starting to act like them - quick to comfort at the slightest sign of distress. There had been times of distress, in the past few months - times that Peter had forgotten about, now. That he didn’t think were important enough to mention.

He also bit his tongue - he refrained from telling her that she had told him that she was happy. She said she didn’t think she could, but she had. But there was no point arguing semantics. Instead, he focused on the job at hand - the seed. The dogs eating the seed. And cleaning up.

“I have spare bags of seed,” he said. Most of the seed had spilled from the container, and he kicked at it with his foot to spill the rest of it out. It might have been a waste, but that didn’t factor in with Peter - the seed had touched the floor. It didn’t matter how clean he kept the floor, he didn’t want the birds to eat the spilled seed. There was no way he would eat food that he had dropped on the floor, so he wouldn’t subject the animals to it, either.

“I’ll get the broom. The extra seed is out front,” he said, reaching down to pick up the container. He handed it to Jersey. “Can you please fill it up and finish changing the seed in the cages? I’ll clean up the spill…” he said. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her… no, it was exactly that. Peter was pedantic. And he didn’t trust anyone but himself to clean up the mess properly.

<Jersey> She had been expecting that he'd clean up the spill, he had his way of having things done in a particular manner and she knew it. It wasn’t something she minded. Where Jersey wasn’t a messy person by far, and she had realized during her period of living alone that she had picked up some of his cleaning habits, she wasn't fond of cleaning. She did it when she was bored, or upset as a distraction, often going over things that had already been clean.

Taking the container, she lifted her gaze to the man's features and felt her lips twitch softly in amusement before she leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek while he was still reaching down. “Yes, I can do that. But, you do know it won't hurt you to let me clean something up every now and then, right?” Jersey spoke before she went to collect the bird seed from the front. Holding the container in front of her, she quietly sang to herself with a bounce in her step as she felt better than she had for a while.

“What happens after this?” The question snuck up on her as she reached the bird seed and knelt down, lightly using her hand to wipe out the container before filling it back up. “He’s got his apartment, I have mine.” She puffed out air and then straightened back up, her eyebrows furrowing. In the back of her mind, Jersey was glad to know that Peter would want to figure things out as unlike her, he planned things. It gave her stability and it was one of the things that she liked about him, one of the things she had missed.

“I’m sure we'll come to some conclusion.” Jersey carefully folded up the bag and then began walking back to the bird enclosure. All the while, she thought about Quentin - yes, she would be adopting the cat after Peter’s tasks were through. At the same time, she let out a soft chuckle as she thought about the events of the night.

<Peter Parkman> Before he could respond, Jersey had already left the room.

No, it wouldn’t hurt to let her clean up every once and a while. Not physically. Mentally, though? He wouldn’t be able to explain it to her, the way it made him feel. He could trust that Jersey might be able to clean to his specifications, but it wasn’t worth the possible anguish if she didn’t. The possibility that he might have to do it all over again. Which might, in turn, might irritate Jersey. And that was the last thing he wanted. He had to try to keep his peculiar psychoses to himself. It was better for everyone involved.

By the time Jersey returned, Peter had swept the majority of the seed into one pile in the middle of the room. There was a pathway to all of the cages, which lined the edges of the room - it was a room that was in turn surrounded by large outdoor cages. The birds were free to come and go, and it was more like an aviary than an enclosure. Some of the birds were kept inside at night, to keep them from the cold. Others were nocturnal, and they stayed out.

When Jersey returned, she looked as if she had been laughing about something. Peter looked over her shoulder, wondering if something out front had amused her. It wasn’t in Peter’s nature to guess, however.

“Is something funny?” he asked. He did not think that Jersey was laughing at him. Even if she were, though, he wouldn’t take it personal. Peter had been laughed at so much over the span of his lifetime, he had become accustomed to it. He had to learn to try to laugh at himself, too, sometimes, otherwise he’d be a depressed, agitated wreck. Logically, he knew that he was not normal, and that others might think him strange. That was normal behaviour.

He didn’t stop what he was doing as he asked the question. He continued to sweep, his movements mathematical.

<Jersey> His question made her give a soft shake of her head before she smiled, her teeth visible briefly and she ran her tongue over her teeth as she tried to figure out a way to explain it. “Not really,” She said after a few moments, “well, maybe.” She shook her head once more and began to head towards the seed dishes, checking to make sure it was empty before she started on her task. Jersey considered that her plans never went the way that she’d intended, not that she had an issue with the way things ever turned out.

“I was just thinking about how things went tonight” Jersey went to the next dish, carefully making sure she didn’t startle a sleeping parakeet that had it’s face hidden under its wing, “and how I really can’t plan anything to save my life.” The blonde looked over her shoulder at him, “But any time I do try to plan something, something good always happens with you.” She shrugged a shoulder and fell quiet for a few minutes as she worked. One of the awake birds watched her and she smiled gently, saying, “Hello” to the creature. She didn’t think it was a bad thing and decided to elaborate, “I planned to take a short walk, met you the night I did and I returned my books at the library the same night you were there.”

After making sure that the bird was comfortable with her being near, Jersey worked and spoke again, “And the night I asked you about your shadow, I honestly expected you to ask me to leave.” She paused to watch him work, her green eyes moving along his form, “Instead after we talked, we ended up kissing and falling asleep together. Tonight? I wanted to bring you the gift and cupcakes… and I got more than that.” The admission was sheepish and she was happy, turning back to what she was doing to give it her full attention for the time being.

“And now I feel better about a lot.” She added silently as she would occasionally stop to see how one of the birds were reacting to her. It was on instinct, really, from something she didn't remember learning and the blonde bit her bottom lip softly. “You know, I’ve walked out here a few times in the past week to see you but ended up hurrying, well no running, away.” Jersey admitted, “Because after the last time we were alone, I was afraid I’d lose you entirely. If I did something wrong.”

<Peter Parkman> Peter nodded. This conversation resonated; it reminded him of a conversation he had had with Keara a couple of months back. When Keara twigged to the fact that Peter was grieving, in his own way, and tried to help him when he didn’t want to be helped. It wasn’t that he had purposefully pulled himself out of the world. Not consciously. Subconsciously he had, however. Keara had tried, and she had succeeded, minimally--he had ended up with two childer, whom he now never saw. But, the truth that Peter only now realised was that he had missed Jersey. And it was his melancholic loneliness that had driven him away from the world.

On that night with Keara, she had asked that he be more open. That he try not to plan every single little thing. That he be open to trouble, because trouble could sometimes be fun. What Jersey said, however, only made Peter realise that he wasn’t wrong to shake his head - to tell Keara that he couldn’t completely give up on his plans.

“I know it,” he said. “See? Plans are good. They aren’t bad. Keeping to my plans didn’t keep me from you,” he said. And then he blinked, straightening as he had swept the last of the stray seed into a pile in the corner.

“I keep to a strict schedule. I think it would be very hard to lose me,” he said, clearly confused about her wording. He was a grown human being, not an object that could roll down a drain and be lost. He turned away to drop to his haunches, to scoop the seed into a dustpan. He’d need to do a few trips to the bin. “In future…I think, just tell me what you’re thinking,” he said, brows still furrowed. She had run from him, and Peter had only ever been confused. Whereas if she had just been open, and laid everything out on the table, he might have been able to deal with it better. They might have got to this point sooner.

“I’m looking forward to falling asleep with you,” he said, equally as sheepish as he stood and wandered toward the bin, a silly smile on his face. He knew, then, in regards to his own reaction to the memory, that he wanted Jersey to come home with him.

<Jersey> He was better at planning things out and it worked for him, but Jersey didn’t mind the unplanned things. She liked to guess at times, enjoy life as it came at her. It was probably something that came with having nothing at some point, really. Holding the container of bird seed, she reached up as a small bird landed on its tray and tilted its head at her before hopping forward a few times. A whistle was given and once it was given food, she chuckled when it began to eat.

When she finished, Jersey walked the container back to the door before she leaned back against the wall to watch Peter. “Well, it doesn't really help that I know your schedule pretty well.” She blinked at him, “Unless you had freed it up or changed it up, it would have been the same.” It didn’t help that they had been together for a year, really. “But… I’m glad they didn’t keep us apart.” Jersey smiled crookedly from her spot and folded her arms behind her back.

His statement caused Jersey to blink at him. Her lips parted and then she gave a shake of her head. “I didn’t mean lose you literally… if I managed to lose you in that manner then I’d probably have to get my head checked again.” She bit her bottom lip. “I met emotionally, relationship wise.” Jersey shifted her weight and inclined her head. “As in, I was afraid you had pulled away too far and you wouldn't want to get back with me.” Her hands lightly fiddled with the chain around her waist, picking at it.

Even though she knew things were fine now between them, talking about it made her nervous. “But now that I know it's not like that, how you actually felt, I feel better.” She lowered her hands and then smoothed them out over her jean clad thighs as she waited. “I’ll try to remember that.” Although Jersey knew that she would remember it now. “Though, distracting you is still free game?” She smirked at him and looked him over again. She pushed herself off the wall once more.

The idea of being able to fall asleep with him again caused her smile to widen. “I don’t suppose you still have one of the shirts I like to sleep in?” Jersey had never been picky, as long as it smelled like him. She had her own, and even pajamas. “Because I’m looking forward to it, too, handsome.”

<Peter Parkman> There were a lot of suggestions that Jersey threw at Peter that had him momentarily glued to the spot, staring at the bin that he’d just tipped the seed into. The bin was emptied at the same time every day - or so Peter hoped it was. It wasn’t his responsibility to do it right now, someone else would do it on their shift during the day. The shifts that he could never be there for. There was nothing more to be said about his schedule, or his plans, or the fact that he hadn’t been running from Jersey, emotionally. He’d just been keeping to the pace he’d created for himself - he wasn’t looking in his rear view mirrors, or paying any attention to who was coming up along beside him. With that kiss earlier, Jersey may as well have veered in front of him and put her hands up, forcing him to stop. To look. To realise someone else might want to join the same road that he was driving along.

Now, she was introducing a whole lot of different corners in that road, which had beforehand been straight and unwinding. But that didn’t mean that Peter wasn’t capable of turning corners. SO long as he knew they were there, he would be fine. He did, however, shake his head. It wasn’t a terrified shake of the head, nor could it look at all adamant or demanding. He was still smiling far too much.

“No. I mean… no. I’d prefer not to be distracted… too much,” he said, then he frowned just lightly. That sounded wrong. Even he knew that sounded wrong. He huffed a sigh and just nodded. “Obviously just… the same amount as before? If you didn’t distract me at all it would be like you weren’t even there and that wouldn’t be fair,” he said. Fair, in regards to equity. Relationships required equal amounts of give and take so that both sides of the partnership felt satisfied. As it was, it was as if Peter could see the colours slowly creeping back into his psyche.

“Like I might tell you that men’s shirts are made for men and you wouldn’t be using the garment right to be wearing it to bed. And it should bother me but it makes you happy. And I like the way it looks. So it’s… fair,” he said, babbling on until he finally forced himself to stop.

“I still have to walk the dogs back to the Asylum and get some work done there. I’m home - at West Towers - two hours before sunrise,” he said. “You can… I mean. If you want to meet me there I can give you the key?”

<Jersey> Looking down at her tunic, she noticed that the chain that had drawn the cloth in closer to her waist wasn’t the way she liked it. Her hands automatically moving to bring it so that clasp was resting against her back. As she did this, the blonde lifted her head slightly to look back at Peter and watch him. Sometimes, she wondered what was going on in his head. Other times she didn't. Now, however, as he grew quiet it was one of those times she was able to find out.

She smiled softly at the sight of the smile still on his lips and crossed her arms idly behind her back as she walked closer towards the man. “Well, to be entirely fair, I’m sure you would still notice me even if I weren't distracting you purposely.” A soft lift and drop of her shoulders were given as her green eyes showed her amusement. “I can do the same amount as before.” And, depending on her mood and a gauging of how focused he was, more or less if she could get away with it.

Peter was babbling and she heard herself chuckle as she curled her arms around his shoulders. The smile widened softly and she leaned up, pressing another kiss to his lips when he had stopped to show that she knew what he was going on about. “I like that you like the way they look, because it makes me happy knowing you like do.” She brushed her nails against his neck briefly.

Home. Knowing he was talking about an apartment versus the cabin where he had been living in sounded strange, especially given the five dogs that lived with him were all varying in sizes.

Jersey nodded her head and slid her arms away from around his neck. “Alright, I’ll meet you there.” And then as she realized it was likely close for him to leave. “But, I’d like to adopt Quentin first so I can get settled in the meantime and you are not getting out of opening the gift I made you, Peter Parkman.”

<Peter Parkman> Peter nodded. When he recalled the times that he had spent with Jersey - when he had lived with her before - he remembered them fondly. The way that she had pushed his buttons that one time in the kitchen, until they had found themselves in the bedroom and all concern for perfection and the passing of time was lost. He recalled the conversation he’d had with Keara - she’d tried to convince him that trouble could not be controlled or stopped, and Peter had argued that he could at least limit the possibility. Jersey was trouble, Peter knew that. But she was a good kind of trouble. He knew that he could trust her to stay by his side; to calm him when his nerves got to be too much. And to play with those nerves just enough to make it exciting.

When she curled her arms around his neck, his hands rested upon her hips. A warmth spread through his limbs and he knew he was home. Here with Jersey, that’s what home was. She mentioned the gift and Peter smiled, nodding. She was taking Quentin home. It would be an exchange.

“Okay,” he said. He turned toward the room within which Quentin stayed. The cat would be happy. Although he knew that the cat could not understand english, he was still excited to break the news. She was going to her new forever home! Of couse, he was happy that she would, in part, be his too. His to care for when Jersey was not home. Because they would be home together. It continued to bring him joy.

“I’ll meet you out the front? If you need any more food or toys, put them in a bag…” he said, wandering off to find a box before he collected Quentin from her enclosure.

<Jersey> “I’ll see you up there.”

She watched after Peter and the direction that he went with a soft expression playing across her features. Gone was any feeling that he didn’t care for her any more, or that he didn’t want her, replaced by her relief and happiness. She still felt bad for leaving him so that she could focus on herself, but the sensation was slowly fading as she picked up the bag once more. Jersey smiled to herself, pondering on what she would do for the next few hours while she waited for him. She could go see Nakia, Danton or Opal, or spend time with her sire, Kallista. Her cell phone in her pocket made her consider sending an excited text to Clover or Athena, but she couldn’t decide.

He had mentioned food and toys, but she knew there was enough in her Sanctuary apartment - another litter box would be purchased on her way to Peter’s. Mew had become a spoiled little creature in large part to Jersey’s thrall Lucas and Nakia, but she knew she played a significant part, too. As she headed towards the front of the shelter, she took a detour to the kitchen and set the cupcakes on the counter and dug a pen out, tearing a piece of paper from her journal afterwards. A note for the staff to enjoy them, as well as allergy info, was left and she turned out the light on her way out before she found where she would wait.

Leaning slightly against the countertop, Jersey crossed her ankles before removing the wrapped gift and set it where it would be in view. Afterwards, she hummed quietly to herself and stared at a calendar on the wall thoughtfully as her thoughts drifted.

<Peter Parkman> Normally there was a cost involved in adopting from Paws & Whiskers. A small fee, but it was enough to cover administrative costs. The Rescue didn’t make much from the establishment itself; he didn’t benefit from the sale of the animals. A small sum was garnered from the bits and pieces he sold to help care for the animals, but the majority of the funds were raised through charity and fundraising. There were plenty of people in this world that cared about the welfare of animals; it gave Peter hope that not everyone was prone to violence and heartlessness.

In Jersey, he had found a kindred spirit. Someone who cared for the animals as much as he did; who didn’t blink an eye at how many animals Peter wanted to rescue. He knew there were limits to how many dogs he could take home. But if Jersey didn’t understand him, she wouldn’t be taking Quentin with her now.

With the cat restless and pacing in the small box that Peter had constructed, he strode out to the front of the shop. Upon seeing Jersey, he smiled; upon seeing the present, he nodded. Quentin was not a gift that Peter had paid for, either. It was not something he had bought for Jersey. It was a gift, regardless. Normally, he had to give adopting customers a spiel about how to take care of the animals, and whether they needed any special needs. With Jersey, he knew he didn’t need to do that. He could trust her with Quentin. Besides which, he had a feeling he’d be seeing more of the cat, too.

Before he did anything with the gift, he leaned over to fill out the forms; something for the staff to file properly the next day. Only after the form was filled and put in the right place did he turn to the wrapped gift. He dragged it closer, fingers picking at the ribbon tentatively.

“Why are you always giving gifts?” he asked, curious. It was something he had noticed about Jersey. It wasn’t a flaw. Just a curiosity.

<Jersey> She considered the events that had lead up to this moment. This had gone a lot better than she thought it would, especially after when they’d spoken in August. But, they had kept in touch over email, too. When Jersey reached into her pocket, she dug her phone out and set it on the countertop beside the gift before skimming through her pictures. Finding the one she wanted, a photo of them as a couple, she set it to her wallpaper and then tucked it back away as she heard his footsteps.

KD’s muzzle pushed into her palm and absentmindedly as she turned her attention to Peter, she returned the smile.

The question was one that Jersey had wondered before, but the only answer that she could give immediately was a shrug of her shoulders. She didn’t know why she gave gifts. She liked to, really, because most would take them without a second thought. “Honestly? I do it because I like to see people I care about smile. Other than you, no one tends to mind.” She gave a laugh, “but you’ve never been very materialistic so I suppose I do it from habit with others to you. I do it to the pets because, well, they all deserve to be spoiled.”

Already, Jersey could think of the things that both Quentin and Mew would be receiving, in addition to Bear and Peter’s own pets now that the two were back together. “And!” She chuckled, “I can spoil them as I please without having to go broke in doing so.”

The gift wasn’t anything extravagant, but a simple sized pumpkin that had been painted white with black dots, an orange cat on one side. “You once suggested when I was alive that I try art, if it interested me. I still can't draw a straight line to save my life… but I wanted you to have one of my first tries at painting.” Jersey said sheepishly as she rubbed at the back of her neck and glanced away, embarrassed.

<Peter Parkman> Peter might have been a practical kind of man. He might have been logical, and mathematical; he didn’t like surprises, or doing things spontaneously. But that didn’t mean he was entirely dull, either. Especially when it came to the holidays. Christmas, in particular - he likes to light the house up like he were Santa Claus; back in Toronto, their house had been a must-see on the Christmas light tours that the city sometimes organised.

But that didn’t mean he’d get any less excited about Halloween. He might not party, he might not spend the time with anyone other than the dogs (at least, that’s what he had been planning until Jersey had waltzed back into his life). But he still liked to decorate.

“This will look perfect on the railing. Just by the stairs?” he said. Already, his mind had shifted gears. He was already thinking about the cabin, and how much better it would be to decorate there than at the apartment. The apartment couldn’t really be decorated on the outside. Only the inside. He grinned at Jersey and nodded his head, thinking it also rightly coincidental that she had painted a cat. When she had got a cat in return.

“Thank you,” he said, as he put the pumpkin beneath the counter where he kept his bag, ready to take with him when he locked the place up and went home for the night.

“So I will meet you at the apartment,” he said. “Later,” he added. He tried not to look at his watch, but it couldn’t be helped. Even with Jersey’s help, there’d been the spill to clean up, and Quentin’s adoption to organise. It was time to close up - he was being blunt, he knew. It was a hint that he needed to leave, so Jersey should, too. But when had he ever not been blunt?

<Jersey> As she heard him mention the stairs, she couldn't remember there being any by the apartment - the cabin? The blonde pushed the thought away and simply smiled, clearly pleased that he had liked it. With the effort put in it, really, Jersey was proud of the way the orange cat on the black and white pumpkin had turned out. She appreciated that grin.

“It sounds great to me, handsome.” Jersey chuckled and then looked down to the box where Quentin was contained. She smiled again as she heard the cat meow loudly, and she tried to think of the fastest way to get to her apartment where she could get her settled. After setting her there, she'd like run out and get a few toys and another litter box. The cats generally had the run of her apartment, Jersey let them and Bear sleep with her. It was comforting, really.

Although as Jersey looked at Peter, she knew some things would change as she walked over to the man as he mentioned he’d see her at the apartment, again.

“Yes, yes. I’ll be there. You’ll be punctual as usual, and then we’ll be able to spend some time together before we sleep.” One of those days, she was going to break that damn watch. The thought crawled through her mind and was pushed aside as she set her hand on his hip, leaning up for a quick kiss. “I’ll see you, soon, Peter.” Jersey squeezed his hip gently and winked before moving to pick up the box containing Quentin. “Let’s go get you all comfortable and introduce you to new just some of the family.”