paradisalogs | (no subject)

Who: Morgana & Zelman
What: Nothing cures boredom like breaking and entering.
When: Forward-dated a couple of days.
Where: Morgana's little city house.
Rating: PG...? (will change if necessary!)

Having finally given up trying to pretend that everything in his world is business as usual, Zelman's decided to find himself a distraction. Specifically, he's got his proverbial eye on a particular distraction that probably won't kick him out, no matter how vile his character. No big plans, just a few ideas. That's the way things always go.

And to be fair, he knocks. But it sounds like no one is home, so he moves around to the back and slips in through a window by completely melting off the locking mechanism. He notes ahead of time to promise to replace it, or something like that.

And then, having entered into said house, there's not much to do but... have a proper look-around. Poke around in every shelf and cupboard, check out every room, knock around a little for secret compartments--because you never know, and those are always so fun--and generally familiarize himself with the space he fully intends to invade.

When that's done, all that's left to do is wait around for her to get back. So he sits himself down in a chair and reclines back to look at nothing-in-particular and just... wait. He's pretty good at waiting, since he has the constant turmoil of his own head to disappear into.

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Morgana doesn't leave him waiting for too long, when she returns she notices something is amiss almost instantly. The smell of melted metal fills her nose. She has a visitor. Who? She wonders staring at the door handle. Has to be someone who knows her location; narrows down the list.

With an almost bored expression she enters the residence, placing the bag of meat and herbs on the nearby table. Her guard is up and magic at the ready, though she makes it difficult to tell at first glance.

"Did you really have to break my window?" It only took a single sweep of the room for her to see him, lounging in her chair. Zelman. Out of the list of suspects this one is the most acceptable.

The hardest part is keeping his smirking down to a minimum when she walks in the door. But he manages.

"I believe that I did."

He looks back around the room very casually, as if he hadn't looked everywhere before, and he talks as though Morgana has been in this very room the entire time. Knocks his heel against the chair leg, playfully, the very image of carefully contained mischief.

"If it wasn't that, I'd have to break in your door or ruin some of the glass. The latch can be easily replaced."

And she acts as if she had left him here the entire time, stashing away her herbs and meat in their respective places. Her lips twitch into an amused smile as she moves about until she finally folds up the paper bag.

"I hope you realize that you will be replacing it." She certainly will not be doing it herself. Although in the grand scheme of things (her mind) a broken latch is of little consequence, she can always lock the windows magically.

With a dramatic sigh Morgana crosses the room to settle in front of him, arms crossed underneath her chest. "To what do I owe this pleasure, Zelman? Your surprise visits aren't without reason, so do not try to tell you were simply in the neighborhood."

He merely hums in (what's probably) agreement. He'd be more assuring about him replacing the lock, but he doesn't have to be--not with the smile on her face. She can give dramatic sighs all she wants, he knows the truth.

He leans back in his chair and crosses his own arms like he means just as much business as she supposedly does.

"It's nothing demanding, don't worry." He smirks like that's a promise he can actually keep. Regardless of whether or not she likes him, he's not very dependable when it comes to maintaining that likeability. "I'd just decided that I'd like a break from the castle and my large, empty house. I'd like to be somewhere fun for a while... Which is when I thought of you, out here, already distancing yourself from everything I'm getting tired of."

She doesn't believe the first part, not completely. It may not be the reason for the visit, but it will certainly resurface before this comes to it's inevitable end.

Raising her eyebrow she shifts her weight, loose hair falling over her shoulder as she moves. Should she be flattered, she wonders, that out of all the people he knows he decides to pick her to visit, the most apparent fun out of them all.

She hums. "I see."

"That's all?"

He raises an eyebrow too, but looks no less amused. Her words say 'I understand', but her face says 'I don't completely believe you'. He was expecting at least a little more of a retort.

"You want something more?" He expression remains sly, and knowing. Reading things that aren't clearly there. Seeing between the lines and spoken words.

"Shall I say 'I am not some sort of play thing you can pick up whenever you're bored' instead?" She certainly isn't thinking that. While she is no play thing, she certainly isn't bothered by his visit. This is as much of a welcome distraction to her as it is to him.

"You could..." He pauses, considering just a moment before he finally stands and leaves the chair behind him. "But I think you'd be lying."

And with that thoroughly established, he steps forward to lace his fingers through her hair in a very familiar, fond sort of way. Curls his hand to watch strands fall away.

"And how have you been, Morgana?"

"Well enough." Things could be better, they could always be better. Especially after that last... change.

She pushes those thoughts into the depths of her mind, locking them as far away as she can. It's not something she wants to think about if she can help it.

"In that case," he brushes his palm against her cheek, feather light, "Would you like to do anything? Ladies first, and all that."

Since he is pretty much going to invade her house for the next week or so. Figures he might as well put in a good token while she may have a lingering doubt or two (it never hurts to be thorough).

Her eyes flick down to his hand briefly, a hum vibrating softly in her throat.

"I have nothing in mind," She begins, tilting her head away from him. Just enough to create space. "I was planning on doing some boring and menial tasks until you decided to visit." Preparing meat, sorting herbs. Things she does for the sake of staying alive.

"Something... distracting, is in order I think."

And he tilts his head in a little closer to make up for the space she creates.

"I can be very distracting."

It would take a blind man not to guess what he is insinuating. She raises an eyebrow, arms uncrossing slowly only to have a hand settle on his chest. Fingers teasing the fabric momentarily.

"Of that, I have no doubts."