insteadofwords | (no subject)

It's been a few days and Keys feel like he's at least sort of starting to settle in. His apartment is still pretty sparse, but he's bought a few things to make it feel cosier, more like his. He still misses his place in Seattle, misses how like him it had felt, but it's not like he can blame the apartment in Dimera for still feeling like it's someone else's, not when he's been in it for less than a week.

His wardrobe is also still feeling pretty basic. He'd bought a week's worth of plain t-shirts in black, white, navy, as well as a couple of pairs of jeans, a few sweaters, a hoodie, socks, boxers. His wardrobe in Seattle hadn't been anything to write home about, honestly, but there are a few things he'll miss. He found a decent pair of combat boots in an army surplus store, which helps with the weather.

He's met a few people so far but really the only person he can think of as a new friend is Rapunzel. She's been checking in regularly and he's thoroughly grateful every time his phone lights up with a text. They text a lot, not about anything in particular, and it's been pretty much the only thing that's stopped Keys from spiralling into just feeling desperately, completely alone.

When Rapunzel invited him over for dinner, Keys had a brief panic about what he should bring with him. His parents raised him to be polite, and he knows that it's good manners to not show up empty handed. So, when he shows up at her door, he's wearing the coat she helped him to buy, a hat pulled on over his hair, and he's got pie and he's got wine.

He's doing his best, anyway.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

fatesdesign

Pascal looks slightly mollified by this and nods at Keys before scurrying across the back of the sofa to jump over to the potted fern that he likes to sleep in, and Rapunzel laughs a little.

"It may not seem like it, but that was promising," Rapunzel tells him with a sly grin. If Pascal really didn't like Keys, he wouldn't leave Rapunzel's shoulder. Him disappearing into his plant means that he at least trusts that she isn't in immediate danger. "He can be kind of prickly, but he's just overprotective. It was just the two of us for so long."

From:

insteadofwords

Keys folds his arms across his chest and grins, ducking his head a little.

"Well, I guess I'll keep trying," he says. "Because you're kind of stuck with me, which I guess means me and him need ot make an effort to get along."

From:

fatesdesign

That visibly pleases Rapunzel, because people who treat Pascal like he's more than just some animal are always held in higher regard by her. He's more than a lizard-- he's her best friend, not to mention smarter and more capable than some humans she's met.

"Good." She smiles at him and then gestures for him to take a seat on the sofa. "Here, sit down. The chicken is still in the oven so we've got some time."

While he moves to sit, Rapunzel goes to the kitchen to retrieve the snack plate she put together, along with some glasses and a corkscrew, and carries it all out to the coffee table. After grabbing the wine, she hops onto the sofa next to Keys, tucking her feet underneath her as he white overshirt slips down over her shoulders.

"So," she says as she starts to twist the corkscrew into the wine bottle, shaking her hair out of her face. "How are things going?"

From:

insteadofwords

Keys sits down on the sofa, tucked into one corner with his back against the arm so that he can face her when she sits down. He pushes his sleeves up as she starts to open the wine, really letting himself settle.

"Okay, I guess?" he says. "I bought some stuff for the apartment, and I called the Computer Science Department at Barton. They might actually have a vacancy for me, if teaching is what I want to. And I could look at maybe getting my PhD, but I don't know about that."

It feels weirdly like admitting that he knows that he's going to be here for a while.

From:

fatesdesign

The information surprises Rapunzel a little and she lifts her eyebrows as he continues, nodding along as she leans forward to pour them each a glass of wine. After setting the bottle down on the table, she picks up both glasses and hands one over to hip, sweeping her hair over one shoulder as she shifts a little to better face him.

"Wow, you've been busy." She had mostly been trying to make sure that he was feeding himself and staying positive, because the first few days can be really rough, but it seems as if he isn't living in denial. He's accepted that he's stuck here, and he's making the best of it. "A teacher, huh? That sounds exciting! I've always been fascinated with school. Maybe because I've never been."

She used to be very self-conscious about that, back when she first came to the city. Everyone seemed so much smarter than her, and had so much formal education. All she had were her books. "I think I've gotten by okay, though."

From:

insteadofwords

Keys takes the wine and takes a sip, relieved it's not terrible. He'd stood in front of the shelf in the grocery store for what felt like hours, just looking at labels.

"Yeah, I mean. I've got a couple of degrees from MIT..." It occurs to him that that probably doesn't mean anything to her and he flushes - way to sound like a total asshole, Keys. "That's a pretty good school, and I know what I'm doing, so I think I could be good with undergrads, and there doesn't seem to be a game studio in town, so..." He shrugs. "I just love it, you know? I miss coding. I haven't...done that for a while, so."

From:

fatesdesign

A lot of what he’s saying admittedly goes over Rapunzel’s head, but what’s clear is his passion for what he’s talking about. It’s similar to how she sounds when talking about art or fashion, and she props her chin up on her palm to watch him with a smile.

“Well, maybe you could start a game studio,” Rapunzel suggests, though she doesn’t really know what that entails. “Sounds like there’s a hole that needs to be filled.”

From:

insteadofwords

"I'd need way more money at my disposal that I've got for that, so..." He shrugs, shaking his head. "And I don't have all the work I'd need to put out a game any time soon. So if I can get some funding for research then I can work on a game and teach and maybe find someone to back me and..." He realises that he's rambling and catches himself, taking a sip of his wine. "Sorry. This is...Yeah. I love it. So."

From:

fatesdesign

“I can see that,” Rapunzel says with a fond smirk, watching him as she lifts her glass to her mouth to take a delicate sip. “It’s good to have something that you’re passionate about.”

She lifts her head and reaches across the back of the sofa to pat his arm, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“You’ve got time to figure it out.” She smiles a little, nose scrunching as she looks over at the dress form in the corner, wrapped in scraps of purple silk. “I never thought I’d have my own business, but somehow it’s happened.”

From:

insteadofwords

She squeezes his bare forearm under the bunched sleeve of his sweater and there's that flutter in the pit of his stomach again. He glances at the dress form. "What I do is mostly numbers. Zeroes and ones. But I kind of like to think it it as creative. Like, ultimately? I'm just trying to tell stories."

From:

fatesdesign

“There are plenty of different ways to be creative,” Rapunzel assures him, squeezing his arm again before shifting her wine to her other hand so she can fix her shirt, tugging it up over her shoulder.

“I wish you luck in whatever you decide to do.”

From:

insteadofwords

Keys can't help it; his eyes are drawn to her shoulder as she tugs her shirt back into place. He looks back to her face quickly.

"Well, unless this is a goodbye dinner, I hope I can keep you posted?"

From:

fatesdesign

“Of course it’s not, silly.” Rapunzel smiles at him and then takes a big sip from her wine before leaning forward and grabbing a carrot stick instead, looking over at him as she takes a bite, slowly sinking her teeth into it so the snap isn’t so loud.

For a moment, she feels a little self-conscious. Keys isn’t asking her many questions, even when she offers up information about herself, and she worries that maybe she isn’t interesting. It’s so frustrating when she gets stuck in her head like this, battling against years of mental abuse that, at the time, she had no idea was even happening.

It makes her feel shy, and she tugs down her knitted crop top a little before reaching for her wine again.

“I’m sure you’ll make lots of interesting friends at Barton,” she says with a smile. “Just don’t forget about me, and there will be more dinners.”

From:

insteadofwords

"You make it sound like you're not interesting," he says, and he leans forward, grabbing a stick of cucumber and biting into it. They're sitting close on the couch and it's easy to shift so that his knee brushes against her.

"Like the paintings," he says, tipping his head back to look at the ceiling again. "Where did you get the ideas from? They're...I've never seen anything like them, honestly."

From:

fatesdesign

“Am I interesting?” She asks, half teasing as Keys moves closer to her. He smells good, feels warm against her side, and in that moment she realizes how long it’s been since she’s been held.

She’s gotten used to not being touched like that again, since Peter, and for some reason the realization is almost devastating. Yes, she hugs her friends, but it isn’t quite the same.

The question surprises her a little, lost in her own troubling thoughts as she was, and she blinks as she tilts her head back to look up with him. Her over shirt falls again, leaving her pale shoulders bare, and her tattoo peeks out from behind the strap of her shirt as she leans forward. There’s a similar design on the ceiling, a golden sun surrounded by swirls of purple, and Rapunzel smiles a little.

“My head, I guess.” She shrugs a little and then bites her lip before glancing over at him. “That sad story I mentioned before— part of it was that I was kept in a tower for eighteen years. All I ever really had was my imagination. I tried to think of bright and sunny things to keep my spirits lifted.”

From:

insteadofwords

"I think so," he says, fidgeting with his wine glass for a moment. "More interesting than me, anyway." His eyes are drawn to her bare skin, the design on her shoulder and the one on the ceiling that it echoes. "That's...I'm sorry that that happened to you." He nudges her gently with his knuckles. "Is here better?" He laughs at himself. "Jesus. I'm sorry. That was a stupid question."

From:

fatesdesign

Rapunzel can’t help it— she laughs. It’s a warm sound, not at his expense. She finds herself inexplicably charmed.

“There are no stupid questions,” she tells him, leaning in against his side a little. “If there were, I never would have settled in here. I had to ask about everything. Stuff everyone else thought was commonplace was completely foreign to me.”

Her transition to Darrow was a rough one, but she also had so much freedom. Even trapped in a weird alternate dimension, she had never felt anything like it.

“But yes, it’s better here,” she assures him, smiling ruefully as she pours herself some more wine. “The day I escaped my tower for the first time was the same day that I was brought to Darrow. I only found out later about the princess stuff.”

She turns her head to look at him, smiling shyly. “I was taken from the palace when I was a baby. That’s why I never got to know my parents.”

From:

insteadofwords

She feels good against his side, and Keys tries really hard not to think about how lonely he is, how lonely he was even back in Seattle.

"Like the story," he says, drinking another swallow of his drink. "It took me ages to get that, by the way." He ducks his head, laughing at himself. "So I know you like to sew. What else?"

From:

fatesdesign

“Yes, like the story,” she admits with a wry smirk, and then wrinkles her nose. “That’s so weird, and I’m not sure I’ll ever understand it.”

They’re sitting close together and Rapunzel stays where she is, finally slipping out of the button down shirt and tossing it aside since it won’t stay up. She only had it on to cook in, anyway.

“Well, I had time to come up with lots of hobbies growing up, and I carried some over with me,” she tells him. “I make clothes, paint, draw. I write and sing songs sometimes. I love to bake, and make candles, and play chess. Pascal’s a good partner.”

From:

insteadofwords

"Says the girl who was worried she was boring five minutes ago," says Keys, gently teasing as she shifts to strip off a layer. It's warm in the apartment, and he considers taking his sweater off, but leaves it for now. He's something approaching relieved when she settles back.

"How long have you been here?"

From:

fatesdesign

“Well, I had to keep myself busy,” she admits with a laugh, though she winces a little at the question.

“I kind of avoided telling you that before because I didn’t want to freak you out,” she says gently. “But I got here on my eighteenth birthday. Almost eight years ago.”

From:

insteadofwords

It does freak him out, just a little bit. For all of his talk about teaching and studying, part of him had thought he'd snap out of...whatever this is. To hear Rapunzel talk about nearly a decade here puts that into perspective. Eight years ago, he'd still been at MIT.

He puffs out his cheeks with a long, slow exhale.

"I heard people leave sometimes?"

From:

fatesdesign

His reaction makes Rapunzel frown sympathetically and she reaches up to rub between his shoulder blades, expecting something like this. What takes her by surprise is what he says next, even though it probably shouldn’t.

Her breath catches and she goes still, eyes stinging as her lower lip wobbles.

“They don’t leave,” she admits with a trembling voice. “Sometimes people just disappear without any warning. I—“ She pauses and swallows hard. “We don’t know where they go.”

From:

insteadofwords

He leans into her touch without really realising he's doing it. He's upset her, he can see that, and his eyebrows draw together as he studies her face.

"You lost someone," he says. "God. I'm an idiot. I'm sorry for bringing it up, Rapunzel. I..."

From:

fatesdesign

“No, no. It’s okay. You couldn’t have known,” Rapunzel assures him, sniffling a bit and wrinkling her nose. No tears fall, thankfully, and she takes a slow breath.

“My boyfriend. About nine months ago,” she tells him. She’s lost more than just Peter, but that was the one that hit her hardest, and the one she isn’t sure that she’ll ever really get over. “I feel like I’m just sort of getting back into the swing of things. Being a person again.”