fondofapples | Inbox -- Genessia

Regina Mills
~~Queen~~ ~~Mayor~~ Mother
Sorceress
Fond of Plants

"You've reached the inbox of Regina Mills. Leave a message. If it's urgent, it's probably too late."

(text, voice, video, action, ooc planning if necessary for Genessia only)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

fondofapples

Between them, they could tear this building down, and Neil's skill with battle magic far exceeded hers. But she knew now how he'd felt when she had her hand around his heart, at least in part. Because though her pulse sped and it took an act of will not to fling him across the room when he grabbed her wrist, she was never once afraid. She stood strong, shoulders square and jaw as tense as his. They could have this fight, not with her cowering from his strength like she had her mother's, because she trusted him.

Neil wouldn't harm her. Not even though he held her wrist firmly enough to bruise it, and angrily enough to summon memories of Mother capturing her time and again, binding her up in plants or whatever allies she had handy. She didn't flinch, even though she remembered like it was yesterday pleading, I'll be good, at a softer grip.

Because Neil wouldn't harm her.

Not willingly, which was the point. And why when he threw down his gauntlet, she nodded, not with fear but with respect. "I won't."

And then she broke the spell of that moment, stepped forward and slipped her arm around his broad, shaking shoulders to guide him to his bed. "And don't pull that macho 'I'm fine' bullshit on me when 'I'm hurting' is what you mean."

Sighing, she lifted her hand to stroke his hair and then slipped down to her knees on the floor in front of him, to gently take his arm into her hands and stabilize it. "Stupid, stubborn knights and their stupid fucking pride. Why text me because you can't sleep if you don't want me here? Don't you know I want to be what you need?"

Edited Date: 2018-09-15 03:19 am (UTC)

From:

hellorhighwater

Neil couldn't have stopped her even if he wanted to--and if he was honest, he didn't want to as she steered him over to the bed before he could hit the floor. Her touch was gentle, light, protective as she steadied his arm and knelt in front of him, chiding him like a child...at least he thought that was what it might have been like.

That uncertainty answered her question for him as he swallowed past the bile still trying to rise in his throat, his arm shifting this way and that under her touch, as if he could twist away from the constant, stabbing lance of pain radiating through his bones.

"It's not pride, it's...just how this works. How it's worked." he admitted softly, eyes still on the floor as he slowly pushed the gray out of his field of vision. "Told you, broke the damn thing when I was a kid. Been to Everglade a lot recently, gets damp over there. Too much moisture in the air and these...flare ups happen."

He finally lifted his gaze to meet hers, sufficiently chastened.

"I don't know...how to do this. To have--that. I'm not even sure I know what I need sometimes, I just know how to survive it. I couldn't sleep, I won't take anything that'll fuck with my head, so I...texted."

From:

fondofapples

"How you do this is simple," she began, voice gentling almost to the tones she'd use with Henry if he were sick and scared.

Closing her eyes briefly to focus herself, she drew on the white-hot burn within her--deep, below the black magic that jumped to her fingertips at the slightest call, and wove her hands back and forth over his wounded arm. There was nothing to heal, because the wound was too old and she had no skill with healing magic, but white magic, love's magic, could soothe an ache for a little while, and she willed it to now.

"You text or call, and say 'Regina, my arm aches from the damp' and I come." Because I love you. She bent her head and pressed a soft kiss of apology to his wrist and another to where she'd so unkindly held his arm.

From:

hellorhighwater

Neil watched, openly wary as she started casting some spell--fearful of its effects, of that loss of awareness or control...but as the power worked, it didn't go anywhere near his mind. It felt like no magic he'd ever seen or felt, even from her.

And it took some of the pain. A good deal of the pain, actually. He flexed his fingers experimentally, and sighed around a dull throb--not unlike the early stages, when it was little more than a nuisance.

She followed by kissing his wrist, his arm--she told him to ask, and she'd come...it was everything he'd ever suspected, every time the Night Dragon called his work a failure because some thread of that was there. Sparing a life in the name of mercy, going back for a comrade in the heat of battle, even warping his magic to try and do things like heal. They were acts of rebellion, they were fresh battles and skirmishes to fight.

He was good at fighting. He wasn't sure how to handle being fought for.

For a long while he just sat, testing his grip, rubbing his forearm from elbow to wrist and back again, staring at it as he tried the idea in his head, just to see how it fit--to feel pain, to reach out...to ride out the storm without fighting. It didn't fit, it refused...but oh, he wanted it to, wanted it so bad he could taste it, feel his thoughts drawn back to waking up in her arms on the grass, sunk so deep into sleep he wasn't sure where he was...

He finally nodded in understanding, then lifted his gaze to meet hers and nodded again. "Okay...okay. Then...I will."

From:

fondofapples

Tipping forward, she slid her arms around his waist and hugged him from her position on the ground. But she didn't stay there, resting where she interposed between his thighs and him resting his arm. After she'd embraced him, she stood and cast her gaze around his room, picked out the hundred and some ways it was inadequate for her dragon knight in pain. No, it wouldn't do.

"Tell me what you need for tomorrow. I'll gather it while you put on the bare minimum of clothes. I'm taking you home with me where you can have warmth, a soft bed, me to watch over you so you can actually sleep." Because half of why he didn't sleep when he hurt wasn't the pain, but the wariness he needed to stay alive when he was this vulnerable.

She wound her arms gently around his shoulders and drew him in against her stomach, stroked her fingers tenderly through his hair to ease the referred pain she knew had to throbbing in his skull. "Neil, sweetheart, let me take care of you."

From:

hellorhighwater

When she slid in close to hug him, his good arm wrapped around her shoulders in return before she was standing up and taking charge, tossing off orders like the queen she was...and then she was there again, all soft touches and and fingers in his hair--

Which was his undoing, and she fucking knew it, too. His head did hurt, but that soothing caress, the kiss of fingertips and nails along his scalp had him sagging forward just a little with a hum of pleasure, letting his head fall to rest against her abdomen for a second while the touch melted away some of the tension that came with his discomfort.

He gave himself a few moments, then he lifted his head again to just look up at her with a small smile filled with a hesitant sort of gratitude--untested, still new, but it was good. It was really good.

"Black bag in the corner--force of habit, too many coastal assignments outta nowhere." he replied by way of agreement to let her do just that--help, take care of him, to let her be there without fighting it if he could help it. "Change of clothes, shaving and spellcraft kits--and full disclosure, my dagger's in there."

With a sigh, and heavy reluctance, he let her fingers slide out of his hair as he shifted to get to his feet, only gritting his teeth a little. He was fairly decent in gym shorts, but reached for the stack of clothes he'd grabbed himself before, passing them to Regina to add to the bag he'd indicated save for a tank top he managed to negotiate pulling on over his head. Sitting back on the bed, he reached under for his sneakers (a wonderful piece of his world he'd forgotten about for far too long) so he could pull them on.

From:

fondofapples

When he tipped his face up to smile at her, Regina's heart wanted to break for the sweetness of it. She caught his jaw in her palm and caressed his cheekbone with her thumb, as tender now as she'd been aggressive before, and the touch was both apology for her roughness and balm to sweep away his pain.

As he stood, she took his face in both hands and kissed his mouth softly. "A dagger's like American Express. Don't leave home without," she teased, and then immediately blushed both for the ridiculousness of it and the thought she could somehow brush aside the argument they'd had so simply.

Still, she collected the bag and packed the clothing he gave her into it, noting with pleasure that he'd included enough for several days (intentionally or otherwise, but either way she didn't intend to let him leave until the pain had faded and he'd had a chance physically and emotionally to heal). Although carrying bags was the opposite of a Regina thing to do, she hiked the strap over her shoulder easily, and when he'd slipped on his sneakers, she drew him up again, gently, into an embrace. "Do you have your phone to let Charlie know where you'll be?"

From:

hellorhighwater

It was a ridiculous remark--but it was things like that which made him so sure of what he felt for her. It was more than attractive, it was a beautiful reminder of the dark things that lived in her, things she had conquered, things he never would--but she got it. There was no looming sense of loss, or a risk she would learn to hate him for what he was. She'd seen his heart, she knew him and still she'd asked for that kiss after she put it back in his chest.

Leaning over to kiss her blushing cheek before he went back to pulling himself together, once he had his shoes on he started to stand--and there she was again, drawing him up, wrapping herself around him with such gentleness and care...it was still an ill fit but it shook something in him, something deep and so alien, something that made him ache and lose his breath and suddenly, overwhelmingly want to bury his face in her hair and just stay there for the rest of his life.

Instead of letting it trip him up, he just smiled and reached into the pocket of his shorts to show her his phone--then wiggled his fingers in silent request for the bag.

"I got one good arm--you're not carryin' that." he insisted. "You're travel, I can hold my own stuff. Isn't that what a knight would do or somethin'?"

From:

fondofapples

"I see, your magical taxicab is ill-tempered enough without having to be a porter, too," she murmured, somewhere between a tease and a protest, but she handed over the bag, carefully, nevertheless. She imagined that it was hard enough for him to let her fuss and care-take, so she could allow him this small indulgence of his dignity.

She held up a finger, though, and said, "If I see a single wince, I'm taking it back. No arguments." A safe enough statement, since in the next instant, she'd stepped close to put an arm around him, and wrap them both up in hissing swirls of purple teleportation mist. And a moment later, it left them in her suite, immaculate but for the stack of papers on her desk.

From:

hellorhighwater

"As you will it, Great Dragon." Neil replied with a roll of his eyes--leaning in to kiss her forehead as she stepped in and summoned her spell.

By the time his head lifted from kissing her, they were ho--in her suite.

He couldn't quite stop the sigh that escaped him as he let the bag drop beside him, or the way his shoulders drooped a little with a loss of tension. He couldn't help it--he liked being here because she was here. In every immaculate space, in the way it smelled like her...in the way he couldn't see her bed without picturing her naked in it...

The thought manifested only with a slow, broad smile that he would never explain as he reached up with both hands to rake them through his hair. That proved to be a mistake as his arm throbbed--which brought a telltale wince. He'd forgotten, for a moment, that it hurt. Not because he wasn't in pain, even with Regina's magic it still ached, but being with her had achieved what he'd hoped to get with texting her: he wasn't thinking about it.

"That came after I put the bag down." he pointed out. "So that doesn't count."

From:

fondofapples

"It counts," she told him firmly and in a tone that suggested he had entered her domain now and she would brook no arguments. But since the bad had already hit the floor, she was free to also smile.

Being with him in his space was different than having him here in hers, in ways that made her at once more vulnerable to his every tiny twitch and smile, and more powerful in her own right, more in control. Whatever the specifics, for a few heartbeats, the hair on her arms stood on end in pure awareness of his presence.

The frisson of sensual alert passed into a small, feminine smile as she ran her hands up his chest--gently, no pressure put on him that might upset his arm, but still with obvious sexual appreciation. "And just for that, I'm going to have to stuff you into the hot springs for a nice long soak."

From:

hellorhighwater

"The indignities I must endure to serve my queen." he joked, his good arm going around her waist as her hands slid up his chest, coaxing a sigh out of him. The longer he stood there, the faster his tension drained away--he wasn't well made for allowing someone to care for him, but this? This felt like something he could handle, just being here and letting the comfort of her presence, her rooms, her little slice of the world restore his sense of well being.

Maybe that was where it began, like she'd said: just letting her be what he needed.

"Okay, okay. I can do a soak in the hot springs." he relented more seriously, bending to kiss the bridge of her nose--then stopping short with a frown at her glasses and releasing his hold on her in favor of reaching up to pluck them from her face so he could complete his chosen task.

"The 'sexy librarian' look is not, but if you really need these? I could try to fix the problem for you." he pointed out, peering through her glasses himself to gauge her eyesight. "It's not in my wheelhouse, so the spellwork would take time, but it is possible. Wore glasses myself 'till the Night Dragon found me. Had the palace healers correct my vision so I'd be a better fighter."

From:

fondofapples

That little frown was appallingly cute, Regina decided. So much so that she almost told him to go ahead with the democracy just for the pleasure of watching him frown and sigh over it. Almost.

"Sexy mayor," she corrected/reminded him, then floated the glasses from his fingers to her desk. "And thank you for the offer, but I correct my eyesight with a simple spell most of the time. I just don't when I'll be doing a lot of close reading. Even with the spell I can get a wicked headache. So, glasses. They're a good check on my vanity."

Her playful smile softened as she ran her hands over his side's to his hips. "Come on, my dragon knight. Let's get you warm and wet."

From:

hellorhighwater

"I wanna see that spell--I know I can get rid of the headaches." He insisted with a put out little glare when she snagged the glasses from him with magic. "As for vanity, the glasses don't work. With or without, you're still so beautiful it fuckin' hurts."

He'd have said more, but she was touching him again, making Neil hum low in his chest as her hands slid down over his hips. His good hand lifted to run fingers through her hair while he bent to kiss that warm, lighthearted smile, which he didn't see it nearly often enough for his liking. After a fight like the one they just had, it was a welcome balm on his soul, a reminder that the jagged edges they both sported only cut when they fell out of alignment. When they came together properly, they fit like puzzle pieces: barbed daggers whose teeth meshed as one.

"Gonna fight you on that if I'm the only one getting warm and wet." He murmured against her mouth with a smirk. "If we get any privacy in the springs...I got one good arm still, I mentioned that, right?"

From:

fondofapples

It had been decades since Leopold had humiliated her by calling Snow the most beautiful woman in all the realms, decades since Sidney had found her by her apple tree and she'd twisted his appreciation of her own womanly beauty into an assassin-to-hand. She knew without looking in a mirror that she was an attractive woman, even exceptionally so. And yet every time Neil called her beautiful or told her she was beautiful, Regina couldn't help the small, pleased smile and the way her breathing eased for a minute. Especially after they'd fought so viciously (if briefly), his appreciation soothed her, assuring her she hadn't broken anything, or even bent it badly.

The smile she gave him in response, small and intimate, invited another kiss, deeper and more sensual than the one he'd just pressed to her mouth. It could wait, though, until they were ensconced in the hot, muscle-easing water of the springs and he could hold her without injuring himself further.

When his thoughts trended the same direction as hers, she chuckled warmly and inserted a finger between their mouths to tap his lips with a 'now, now' and a finger wag of 'hold your horses, handsome.' "You might have mentioned that, yes." She drew her hands back up his hips to his mid back. "Healing first, holding after. I want you well, Neil."

From:

hellorhighwater

Neil frowned at her, more petulant than actually annoyed, but gave up teasing with a sigh, kissing her fingers first, then her forehead in silent acquiescence.

"All right, lead the way, coach." he quipped, drawing back reluctantly and stepping back so he could toe off his sneakers. 'Well'--it felt like an oxymoron, a healthy soldier. He was sturdy by virtue of his power--acting as a vessel for dragon fire had its pros and cons, like cauterizing wounds that bled, and even burning most disease out of his bloodstream.

Save for the Fever, as the palace healers came to call it, when he couldn't hold the fire back any longer and delirium set in while his temperature spiked to combat the force in his veins that was consuming his own body heat. Or how the fire could influence his emotions in moments where control slipped, fueling rage and hate and lust--or even the aftermath of his own body burning to save his life, leaving him in agony for days as he reigned in the fire so it didn't burn him from the inside out.

...yeah, he was probably going to have to have a talk with Regina about some of that later if he didn't want to get yelled at again.

"So where's the spring?" he asked, tugging an elastic off his wrist to reach up and pull his hair back--then winced when his arm protested. Grimacing, he hesitated, then glanced at Regina and gestured vaguely with the elastic in silent request for a little help.

From:

fondofapples

Ignoring his pouting and petulance, Regina instead rewarded his asking for help with another almost sunny smile and the stroke of the back of her hand up his abdomen. Over the short time they'd spent together (more time than she'd had with Robin really), she'd discovered that certain touches had the power to either stop him in his tracks, or provoke those sweet, love-struck smiles that she adored, and intimate affection expressed as her hand low on his abdomen was one of her favorites.

"Come here and sit down," she said, retrieving the elastic from his fingers. He was too tall for her to effectively manage his hair if he was still standing and besides, she could give him a little more gentle attention this way. For as soon as he sat, she combed her fingers through his hair and bent over him to press a warm kiss to the side of his neck.

"I'm sorry about before," she murmured, not an apology she thought he needed so much as one she simply wanted to give. It felt oddly less traumatic to give it now when she knew the fight was over, and somehow more meaningful. "This, us, it felt threatened and I do bad things when I feel threatened."

From:

hellorhighwater

It wasn't something he would admit to readily, but that touch of her hand on his stomach--fingers brushing, knuckles rubbing, that gentle sweep of the back of her hand--had more power than she realized. It always came with a subtle frisson of fear up his spine, then a wonderful sort of stillness that followed as the fear slid right back down and out of him. It was a very specific exposure of a weak spot, not unlike a wolf exposing its belly, and that reminder of how close she was, how vulnerable he became when he was with her...

It was a reminder of the holes in his armor, and the way she filled them. Fear was reflex, but that stillness was choice, and every time she touched him that way he was reminded that there could be safety and even pleasure in trusting someone, in dahgo.

That touch achieved both: melted any hesitance he had in asking for help, and brought that broad, awestruck smile to his face before he did as he was told, moving to sit down so she could help him with his hair...which meant running her fingers through it and kissing his neck, both of which had him pleasantly cross-eyed for a moment.

Her admission was sobering, though, and made him feel bad about their fight--about lashing out the way he had. He'd do it again, in a heartbeat, simply to keep her safe from him...but he didn't have to like it.

"I do, too." he confessed. "And I'm sorry, too--I didn't want you to worry, and I know, I know you wanna help, but from where I sit I really am okay. But that's me, my own head--I get it. I just--I'm a fire mage, Regina. And I know you think highly of me, but in my world a simple elemental fire mage is the single most dangerous creature in all of existence. And I wield dragon fire. I get spooked, people do end up dead."

From:

fondofapples

Now, she knew, wasn't the time to tell him that she'd survived countless assassination attempts over the years, or that she'd caught an arrow fired at her with her bare hand. It was time to be still and quiet and accept that they could kill each other, but more importantly neither of them wanted to.

So she nodded and met his gaze in the mirror behind her dressing table while her hand smoothed over the shoulder of his healthy arm and down to seek his hand for a moment. "I know," she said soberly, not a hint of appeasement in her tone, just an acknowledgment. They'd done this once before, after all, with her fist around his heart.

She waited, holding his hand and his gaze for long enough that nothing she said could be understand as a challenge or an exception to that, released his hand, and then went back to his hair, this time separating it into three equal parts. And only after she'd begun plaiting it did she say, "There's a difference between functional and okay." And she honestly wasn't sure he should count as functional, considering how easily she could disable him. "Maybe your king accepted functional. I don't. You're more than a weapon to me, and I need you to be able to do more than slice through my enemies. I need you, and you're not yourself when you're in that kind of pain."

From:

hellorhighwater

For a long time, Neil didn't answer, just watched her in the mirror as she began to section off and braid his hair--nothing he'd ever tried, and something he'd have to see if she'd do more often because it felt fucking incredible. It sent glorious little ripples of sensation across his scalp and down the back of his neck...he could have easily shut his eyes and just lost himself in it, drifting with the gentle tug and caress of her fingers to keep him from floating away.

"My king executed men who could only be 'functional.'" he confessed quietly. "'Functional' didn't get a lotta boys through basic. And...seeing into shadows, using them to travel? It's only half of what the Night Dragon can do: he sees the hidden. Anything kept secret, he can learn. It's a form of blood magic, the only things you can hide are the things you don't. It's tricky shit, trying to learn how to speak so you can lie without lying, hide without covering something up. I've seen it kill at court."

He paused, half smiling at her in the mirror. "You've met me, put me in the wrong situation and I can't control half the shit that comes outta my mouth. I couldn't double talk my way out of a damn thing, so I...made it true. I changed my reality: pain became a norm, standing next to death became a blessing. I made myself capable of pushing through just about anything so I could be better than just 'functional,' even if I knew it would kill me. I...became Black Fire. It's--I just don't know how to turn that off, so...there will be other flare ups, my powers alone can make me sick, but if I say I'm okay then I'm not bullshitting you. It's literal: from where I sit, I really am okay. Okay can just...sometimes mean puking up blood or something. But if you don't get sick of my shit, I promise you: somewhere underneath all the crap I learned in my service...you'll find me, okay?"

From:

fondofapples

"I understand," she told him, and when she'd finished plaiting his hair and neatly tying off the end with a bit of silk cord she summoned, she leaned down to kiss to top of his head. "My mother...showing any kind of weakness was an invitation. I learned to put all of this--" She gestured between them and to her own face to encompass the emotions he'd seen in it today alone. "--away so far that it didn't exist. I was what my face showed."

She sighed, then, because there were things that she could accept and things she couldn't, and if she had to guess, the same would be true for him. "But I don't care that you're not bullshitting me. Not being able to sleep from pain and puking up blood, Neil--" The expression she showed him in the mirror was far from okay, tears in her eyes and brows lifted high and drawn together. "That's objectively Not Okay. Trust me to protect you. Let me decide what's okay."

From:

hellorhighwater

Neil wanted to look away when that look crossed her face--wanted to hide from what she asked of him because it was terrifying. He trusted her with his weak spots, trusted her to have his back, but she was asking him to let her take care of him again, in a much bigger way. To be his eyes, to stand between him and the rest of the world when that wasn't how it worked, that wasn't how he worked, that wasn't what he was for...

"Dahgo." he murmured as he watched her face in the mirror, his own pinched with conflict. It was less a declaration, more a reminder--love unchecked, love for the sake of love...the willing march into destruction for a chance to feel it.

"I told you it had a crappy ass English translation." he went on out loud, half thinking out loud. "Dahgo means 'removal of the heart.' To lose the heart is the ultimate vulnerability...and the man without a heart is the man that cannot die." He smiled a little, then reached around to find one of her hands, drawing it around his shoulders until he could press it against his chest and lean back against her just a little.

"And anyway, can't get it back if you don't give it up first, right?" He hesitated, sobering...then drew a deep breath and nodded.

"Okay. Okay, I'll trust you. Until I can see it...I'll let you be my eyes."

From:

fondofapples

"You know, I almost said it, Dahgo." Regina pressed her palm against his chest to hold him against her. "To trust me not to use it against you. I'm not asking you to give up your own judgement, just to let me say, 'no, this is not okay' and have you accept that with me."

She stepped back then to gesture up and down with one hand, calling conjuring mist in to cloak her. When it faded out, she wore sandals, a black swimsuit with a plunging back and sheer swoosh beneath her breasts and across to her hip, and covered with a pretty gold and red sarong that knotted at her hip.

"I believe that you can take the pain, but you're my knight, not his assassin, here. And I wouldn't be worth your affections if I let you suffer."

From:

hellorhighwater

Neil watched her change with magic, smiling a little as the smoke cleared to reveal--okay, he'd forgotten about bathing suits. Making a mental note to ask Regina how she felt about bikinis, he got to his feet and turned to face her, absently running a hand back over his head and down the neat braid she'd done. Snug, tidy, but not so tight that it would cause a headache.

"For the record? You're worth more on your worst day than the Sun Goddess on her best." he assured her, wrapping his good arm around her waist to pull her in for a kiss.

...okay, just once he was gonna show off.

Breaking the kiss, Neil took a small step back, calling a large ball of dragon fire to life in the palm of his good hand. Using the pain in his arm as a focus, he drew the heat back into himself, transforming the sparking red-white flame as the leaping fire dwindled and faded. In its place was a glowing ball of iridescent white, one that contracted and glazed when he curled his fingers--an orb of raw magic, nestled into his palm.

Concentrating, Neil shut his eyes and crushed the shimmering orb in his fingers. It wasn't Regina's conjuring mist, but there was a sudden explosion of smoke on an invisible breeze, cloaking Neil and blowing back away from his body. It dissipated quickly, leaving him standing there breathing like he'd run a sprint...wearing black trunks, no shirt, and for Regina's peace of mind had also conjured a sling to support his bad arm, strapping it neatly to his chest.

"For the record," he panted, gesturing with his good arm and grinning with unabashed pride, "I can only do that when I'm in pain. Gives me a focus...see? You're not...the only one that can...flirt with magic."

From:

fondofapples

One of her favorite things about being with him was this, how he would haul her close to kiss her As punctuation on a thought, or as part of a smile. It made ludicrous statements like her being worth more than the Sun Goddess slightly less bald-faced flattery and slightly more love-addled sweetness.

It also had the effect of settling her enough that him engaging his dragon fire (that could make him sick!) When he was already in pain didn't turn her into a shrieking harpy. As she always did when he worked new magic, she paid close attention to see what she could learn of it. What she learned this time was that this magic was more beautiful than it was efficient, and it took far more out of him than she was happy with. But she wasn't going to complain about the results. Not when the view was so damn good.

"I was acquiescing to your request that I get warm and wet too. I don't have a swimsuit yet." She turned and headed for the door, expecting him to follow. "And flirting. But if you don't stop pushing yourself to prove you're okay, my flirting is all you'll be enjoying tonight."