HARPER
He can tell that she's not used to being touched, to being approached the way he is doing. It's subtle, barely there, but he has spent years trained to find the tiniest of microexpressions that may suit his purpose. He had never intended to use it quite this way, but he appreciates the information that he collects automatically. Harper wonders why she hasn't had this happen to her before, why this is so new. He has the urge to keep himself at her side, to diminish that response until it's second nature. Harper communicates through touch, can't imagine a world where he doesn't give and receive it like breathing. Wants to share it with her inexplicably. "Thank you," he says instead, boyish charm oozing from his smile, cheeky and well aware it's not exactly a compliment coming from her. He'll take it as one anyway.
"I'll aim to pleasantly surprise, then. Though I'll warn you I've often been told I'm the worst. Hopefully in jest." Usually by criminals angry at being captured, but Harper is a good guy and overlooks most of what they say. If they weren't criminals maybe he'd care what they had to think of him.
Something changes in her countenance, something sly and salacious, teasing and inviting. His cheeks are still warm but he draws closer, careful to leave enough room for her to make her own decisions on where she wants to move. "I must admit I've never been happier to be wrong. Should I put in my formal request now?" Oh and Fiat Lux couldn't come soon enough to satisfy him. And it only pulls him further into her orbit even as she turns away. Happily walking after her, a puppy on a leash, unashamed and unburdened by pride or silly notions of masculinity. "I'm a thorough detective," he assures teasingly, moving forward to her side, keeping close enough to brush their shoulders.
"I'll aim to pleasantly surprise, then. Though I'll warn you I've often been told I'm the worst. Hopefully in jest." Usually by criminals angry at being captured, but Harper is a good guy and overlooks most of what they say. If they weren't criminals maybe he'd care what they had to think of him.
Something changes in her countenance, something sly and salacious, teasing and inviting. His cheeks are still warm but he draws closer, careful to leave enough room for her to make her own decisions on where she wants to move. "I must admit I've never been happier to be wrong. Should I put in my formal request now?" Oh and Fiat Lux couldn't come soon enough to satisfy him. And it only pulls him further into her orbit even as she turns away. Happily walking after her, a puppy on a leash, unashamed and unburdened by pride or silly notions of masculinity. "I'm a thorough detective," he assures teasingly, moving forward to her side, keeping close enough to brush their shoulders.
