[ It isn't a lot, just a name, but so much of himself is carried in that name even if it doesn't expose the truth of all of his scars just by speaking it. But somehow, all the same, once it slips from his lips, he feels a grand weight lifting from his shoulders for just that small step, despite not knowing why he shares it, why he ever feels a need to tell her, when she doesn't seek to bring it out of him.
She isn't even the first to hear it; Red knew who he was in an instant, plus there was the whackjob in red leather who knew much more than he should. Chloe knew something, though she was fairly convinced that he wasn't the same man that she knew, which name or not, was actual truth. Yet it's the first time he feels that instinctive need to share it, to have this be honest, because she deserves to know it, wherever this entanglement of theirs ends up leading.
(He won't regret it, but he'll still wonder if he should have spared her from it, from being taken in a step further towards the truth of his reality. Or if she'd seen more than enough of his scars that anything further would be entirely dangerous for them both.)
He isn't certain of what reaction will come, but it isn't quite that either, and with it comes a raise of his brow, an extended pause before the release of a soft held breath. ] Can't tell if that's an insult or a compliment. [ Whatever it is, he'll take it. ] Can't really change this one, so I hope you ain't too disappointed by it.
[ He doesn't need to say much of anything at all; she can tell by the way he lets that breath go that he'd been waiting for some kind of response, any response, to revealing that to her. The truth on her end is that she'll be mulling over this for a while afterward, long after they've parted ways and she's gone back to that rundown house they've made her responsibility here.
She'd assured him that he only has to go as far as he's willing in regards to his secrets, but she won't deny that she's curious, especially in regards to why he felt the need to use an alias in the first place. And she can't help but wonder how many people have been clued in on this secret of his, aside from her.
Still, she won't inquire further along those lines, not while his arms are still wrapped snug around her frame, but she does peer up at him, a faint narrowing of her eyes like she intends to study him further until her expression relaxes, shifts into a half-grin at his comment. ]
Frank. [ She tests it out first, quietly and almost to herself, before repeating it a little louder, for his hearing. ] Sorry, I don't have any replacement names to give you, though. Still Earp. [ Or Wynonna, or Judy, or whatever other names he feels like ascribing to her depending on the time of day; she lowers her head until her chin presses against his chest, all of her bobbing slightly when she talks. ] Nice to meet you, Frank.
[ It's strange to hear it on her lips, even more so considering he'd hesitated to give even his falsified name to her at all when they'd first met. There'd been so much resistance than to allow their conversations to proceed beyond a few exchanges of banter, to let it rest with just some mere confessions of useless trivia (which they've allowed to be constantly reminded with the survival of Harry and Judy).
Perhaps it's been since the way she'd been so open, so strangely comforting when he'd been faced with the reliving of his family's deaths, when an animalistic nature had pierced into dragging those memories fresh and almost rid him of any last shred of humanity. She hadn't shut him away then, and he wonders how much more before she finally reaches that limit, when she's seen too much of the monster and is ready to turn her back on whatever they've begun to kindle here in this bed. He has the wonder, but he isn't certain of how much his curiosity is willing to test it.
But it's a start, even if it's only in the form of a name, and already he feels more secure, safer here, having said it. She repeats it with a softness he hadn't realized he craved and he slips into the smallest smile when she presses her chin to his chest. ]
Pleasure's all mine, Wynonna. [ He won't retire the other set names he's labeled on her, each having their own set of purposes, but just as she speaks his name in all its bare truth, it feels natural to let hers live on his own tongue in this moment. Quietly, he adds, ] The name, it's β it's different, but ... it's still me. I promise.
[ (Parts of him. Darker fragments of himself still lingering in secret. And though he intended then, to share them with her someday, to let herself see the rest of his scars, he'll come to realize maybe it's for the best that he keeps her far and away from it all.)]
[ She doesn't completely understand what had prompted him to confess to her to begin with β maybe he'd been tired of living a lie here, even under something as minor as an alias, a false name given for whatever reasons he has that belong to him alone. Maybe now that he's choosing to stay here, to join in this mysterious mission they've been tasked with, he doesn't see the point in keeping that secret anymore. She won't ask, just like she won't ask him who else he's shared this with β mostly because she's finding she doesn't want to shatter the relative peace they've still got a hold on, just like she doesn't want to remove his hold from her in any way.
It's not the first piece of himself he's shown her, and she doesn't want to take it for granted, doesn't want to dismiss it alongside anything else β his confession about his family, whatever happened to take them away and trigger that anger, that fury from him when he'd inadvertently torn their photograph, misjudging his strength in animal form. Those are parts that she's not entirely convinced many other people have been able to witness, but when was the last time she can remember confessing as much as she has to anyone, let alone the same someone?
It might take some getting used to, referring to him by a different name, and she's still unsure how publicly she's even allowed to use it if he needs to stay under the radar for now β but she gently tilts her head in response to his words, a few strands of her hair trailing across his skin with the adjusted angle, to feign some new scrutiny of him. ]
Hmm. I'm not sure about that. How do I know this Frank is the same person? [ The lightness in her pretend confusion is more than enough evidence to clue him into her tease about it, always her first instinct but not attempting to diminish the meaning of the moment by any means. ] I might have to make sure. Just, you know, for peace of mind.
[ He's placed a fair amount on her shoulders these days, and it'd never been his intention to have her get involved in any of it, her presence somehow stumbling in either on accident or on someone else's insistence (he has to wonder why it is that Laura looked to her in the first place to look after him). There's been more than enough unmasked for an afternoon and it'd only be overwhelming to place even more on her shoulders without that space to breathe.
Still, it hasn't been nearly enough to draw her away, and he's a bit relieved when she continues to sink her weight across his chest, only adjusting herself as she carries on the conversation.
Initially, he squints, a fold of the skin between his brows with brief confusion before he registers the path of her tone, a huff of breath shifting into a soft smile that peers away with a scrunch of his nose. ] Oh, you do, huh? And, uh, how exactly you intend on doing that?
[ Really, they have Laura to thank for a lot of this, at least in recent days; Wynonna's never been the kind of person who readily spills on any part of her past, let alone the most traumatic moments of her childhood, and yet trying to consider even a fraction of what the girl had gone through had launched her right back to that night so vividly that she'd been unable to hold it in. He doesn't know the full story yet β and she isn't sure what specific set of circumstances are going to prompt her to offer more detail β but even giving up a shred of it feels like the release of a tension she hadn't even been aware she was bearing on her shoulders. ]
Uh huh. [ With as much as she's told him, he's still holding her β and her him, to an extent, as firmly as she can manage while being mindful of that tender shoulder β and she's careful as she navigates her ascent along his side, wiggling up those few extra inches. ]
I just have one small test. [ And she's attempting to hold the most seriousness in her expression right now β mouth straight, gaze determined, nothing generally giving away her intent save the slight hum that leaves her seconds before she brings her lips to his, a soft brushing that evolves to a firmer press. After a few beats, she pulls back to let her eyes search his face. ] That's you, alright.
[ He has a general idea of where she's leaning towards, even if she tries to veil it over with serious consideration as she slides herself further up across his body. Predictions are confirmed when he's met with her lips, softness in the kiss that contains more sweetness than he'd have garnered for after his confession.
Yet, even anticipating it hadn't steered away the surprise entirely, not when she follows it up with a simple response, that's you, alright, and he's returning to that quiet laughter that can't conceal itself when she's this close to his mouth. ] Jesus Christ. [ He mutters it like an annoyance, but the reality of his amusement is spelled in the sharper lines from spread lips.
An index finger finds her cheek, a light tap across the gentle swell as his eyes find hers in a brief gaze of sincere affection, soon turning them away when the arm wrapped around her waist gets a firmer grip to roll her onto her side as he follows suit, weight placed entirely on his healthy shoulder.
Still nestling her close in against him, he adjusts his head on the pillow with the shutting of his eyes, lips pursed in signal that he isn't entirely finished with the conversation despite his dramatized display. ] You're really something, Wynonna Earp.
[ She's really not being subtle at this point, but what part of this entire series of events could even claim that? Her residency in his embrace, her arm loosely slung across him as if she's been doing this for weeks, months already instead of the very first time, her consciousness of everywhere they're pressed together, soft into firm. The sound of his voice, his laugh β a low and intimate sound, one that precedes the huff he tries to keep somewhere in the vein of mild exasperation but fails to muster.
She laughs too, a chuckle that breathes across his mouth where she's hovering enough to track the mirth in his eyes, his inability to maintain a straight face, and it spreads to the curving of lips that eventually pull back to reveal teeth in that full grin.
But that drifts away too, when his fingertip finds the tension in her face with the width of her smile, causes it to dissolve with a single downward swipe, and she shifts as he does, inching down until her head finds a place to rest on the pillow beside his, until she can track the peace in his features as his eyes fall shut. ]
Yeah, and don't you forget it, Frank Castle. [ She can't avoid a yawn then, ducking down to cover her mouth with the back of her hand before that same palm curves at the prominence of his hip, maintaining that tether between them even while sleep might threaten to overtake her again. ]
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no subject
She isn't even the first to hear it; Red knew who he was in an instant, plus there was the whackjob in red leather who knew much more than he should. Chloe knew something, though she was fairly convinced that he wasn't the same man that she knew, which name or not, was actual truth. Yet it's the first time he feels that instinctive need to share it, to have this be honest, because she deserves to know it, wherever this entanglement of theirs ends up leading.
(He won't regret it, but he'll still wonder if he should have spared her from it, from being taken in a step further towards the truth of his reality. Or if she'd seen more than enough of his scars that anything further would be entirely dangerous for them both.)
He isn't certain of what reaction will come, but it isn't quite that either, and with it comes a raise of his brow, an extended pause before the release of a soft held breath. ] Can't tell if that's an insult or a compliment. [ Whatever it is, he'll take it. ] Can't really change this one, so I hope you ain't too disappointed by it.
no subject
She'd assured him that he only has to go as far as he's willing in regards to his secrets, but she won't deny that she's curious, especially in regards to why he felt the need to use an alias in the first place. And she can't help but wonder how many people have been clued in on this secret of his, aside from her.
Still, she won't inquire further along those lines, not while his arms are still wrapped snug around her frame, but she does peer up at him, a faint narrowing of her eyes like she intends to study him further until her expression relaxes, shifts into a half-grin at his comment. ]
Frank. [ She tests it out first, quietly and almost to herself, before repeating it a little louder, for his hearing. ] Sorry, I don't have any replacement names to give you, though. Still Earp. [ Or Wynonna, or Judy, or whatever other names he feels like ascribing to her depending on the time of day; she lowers her head until her chin presses against his chest, all of her bobbing slightly when she talks. ] Nice to meet you, Frank.
no subject
Perhaps it's been since the way she'd been so open, so strangely comforting when he'd been faced with the reliving of his family's deaths, when an animalistic nature had pierced into dragging those memories fresh and almost rid him of any last shred of humanity. She hadn't shut him away then, and he wonders how much more before she finally reaches that limit, when she's seen too much of the monster and is ready to turn her back on whatever they've begun to kindle here in this bed. He has the wonder, but he isn't certain of how much his curiosity is willing to test it.
But it's a start, even if it's only in the form of a name, and already he feels more secure, safer here, having said it. She repeats it with a softness he hadn't realized he craved and he slips into the smallest smile when she presses her chin to his chest. ]
Pleasure's all mine, Wynonna. [ He won't retire the other set names he's labeled on her, each having their own set of purposes, but just as she speaks his name in all its bare truth, it feels natural to let hers live on his own tongue in this moment. Quietly, he adds, ] The name, it's β it's different, but ... it's still me. I promise.
[ (Parts of him. Darker fragments of himself still lingering in secret. And though he intended then, to share them with her someday, to let herself see the rest of his scars, he'll come to realize maybe it's for the best that he keeps her far and away from it all.)]
no subject
It's not the first piece of himself he's shown her, and she doesn't want to take it for granted, doesn't want to dismiss it alongside anything else β his confession about his family, whatever happened to take them away and trigger that anger, that fury from him when he'd inadvertently torn their photograph, misjudging his strength in animal form. Those are parts that she's not entirely convinced many other people have been able to witness, but when was the last time she can remember confessing as much as she has to anyone, let alone the same someone?
It might take some getting used to, referring to him by a different name, and she's still unsure how publicly she's even allowed to use it if he needs to stay under the radar for now β but she gently tilts her head in response to his words, a few strands of her hair trailing across his skin with the adjusted angle, to feign some new scrutiny of him. ]
Hmm. I'm not sure about that. How do I know this Frank is the same person? [ The lightness in her pretend confusion is more than enough evidence to clue him into her tease about it, always her first instinct but not attempting to diminish the meaning of the moment by any means. ] I might have to make sure. Just, you know, for peace of mind.
no subject
Still, it hasn't been nearly enough to draw her away, and he's a bit relieved when she continues to sink her weight across his chest, only adjusting herself as she carries on the conversation.
Initially, he squints, a fold of the skin between his brows with brief confusion before he registers the path of her tone, a huff of breath shifting into a soft smile that peers away with a scrunch of his nose. ] Oh, you do, huh? And, uh, how exactly you intend on doing that?
no subject
Uh huh. [ With as much as she's told him, he's still holding her β and her him, to an extent, as firmly as she can manage while being mindful of that tender shoulder β and she's careful as she navigates her ascent along his side, wiggling up those few extra inches. ]
I just have one small test. [ And she's attempting to hold the most seriousness in her expression right now β mouth straight, gaze determined, nothing generally giving away her intent save the slight hum that leaves her seconds before she brings her lips to his, a soft brushing that evolves to a firmer press. After a few beats, she pulls back to let her eyes search his face. ] That's you, alright.
no subject
Yet, even anticipating it hadn't steered away the surprise entirely, not when she follows it up with a simple response, that's you, alright, and he's returning to that quiet laughter that can't conceal itself when she's this close to his mouth. ] Jesus Christ. [ He mutters it like an annoyance, but the reality of his amusement is spelled in the sharper lines from spread lips.
An index finger finds her cheek, a light tap across the gentle swell as his eyes find hers in a brief gaze of sincere affection, soon turning them away when the arm wrapped around her waist gets a firmer grip to roll her onto her side as he follows suit, weight placed entirely on his healthy shoulder.
Still nestling her close in against him, he adjusts his head on the pillow with the shutting of his eyes, lips pursed in signal that he isn't entirely finished with the conversation despite his dramatized display. ] You're really something, Wynonna Earp.
no subject
She laughs too, a chuckle that breathes across his mouth where she's hovering enough to track the mirth in his eyes, his inability to maintain a straight face, and it spreads to the curving of lips that eventually pull back to reveal teeth in that full grin.
But that drifts away too, when his fingertip finds the tension in her face with the width of her smile, causes it to dissolve with a single downward swipe, and she shifts as he does, inching down until her head finds a place to rest on the pillow beside his, until she can track the peace in his features as his eyes fall shut. ]
Yeah, and don't you forget it, Frank Castle. [ She can't avoid a yawn then, ducking down to cover her mouth with the back of her hand before that same palm curves at the prominence of his hip, maintaining that tether between them even while sleep might threaten to overtake her again. ]