[ It's more of a command than a plea, that's for sure. Harry isn't the type to beg, after all. Certainly, he'll swagger in and limp out, but he doesn't beg. Pressing his fingertips to the countertop, he balances his weight on elbows and hands, hunching his shoulders towards his ears as he leans across the island. It's honestly not that hard, everything is weighted and measured for human beings that were not particularly his height. It puts him that much closer to John when it's his turn to speak, and dark eyes flick from the man's mouth to his eyes, to his chest (ah still breathing that's good) and back. ]
You meant to put me in a cage, John? [ He practically purrs the words, frighteningly intent on that idea alone. His anger simmers, snapping through the air like static. ] The last time I was ever put in a cage, I was sixteen and helpless and swore to myself that I would never end up like that ever again. I am now an adult and decidedly not helpless. So, I highly suggest you dismantle and destroy it, and by that I mean: do not make me do it myself. Clear?
[ Harry falls silent for a measure, watching the man. Making his point with the severity of his gaze, the sudden way he's drawn himself up - before he shakes his head. Wouldn't do it well, or like others? ] You know, I never expected you to. Remember? We did that thing with the eyes and the soul-baring? And - despite the hangover in the morning, that was the best night's sleep I'd had in a month. I hesitate to use the word "safe" in relation to you, but. It'd been a while.
What I'm trying to say is: I don't think we ever fit convention, John. I've never -- you know. Am I getting this right?
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2012-11-14 03:44 am (UTC)You meant to put me in a cage, John? [ He practically purrs the words, frighteningly intent on that idea alone. His anger simmers, snapping through the air like static. ] The last time I was ever put in a cage, I was sixteen and helpless and swore to myself that I would never end up like that ever again. I am now an adult and decidedly not helpless. So, I highly suggest you dismantle and destroy it, and by that I mean: do not make me do it myself. Clear?
[ Harry falls silent for a measure, watching the man. Making his point with the severity of his gaze, the sudden way he's drawn himself up - before he shakes his head. Wouldn't do it well, or like others? ] You know, I never expected you to. Remember? We did that thing with the eyes and the soul-baring? And - despite the hangover in the morning, that was the best night's sleep I'd had in a month. I hesitate to use the word "safe" in relation to you, but. It'd been a while.
What I'm trying to say is: I don't think we ever fit convention, John. I've never -- you know. Am I getting this right?