[ The first, unkind instinct, is to say she only believes that because she hasn't seen how scary he can be, a sentence that makes him feel anxious, guilty, sometimes disgusted. Kind people have spent months telling Dom he's not a monster because the terrible things he's capable of — and the ones already done — were never his choice. Yet they still happened; yet people still got hurt.
—yet hearing Gwen say that allows him a firefly of comfort, glowing gently in the darkness of that past. Dom stays quiet, fidgeting. ]
I'm — I'm glad. That I don't scare you. Because I really like you.
[ Words that warm his cheeks. ]
If you want— I could show you how I do it. You don't need to have magic to share dreams with me or anything.
[ Just listening to his breath on the line, for a moment, drawing her knees to her chest. ]
And I think— I’d like that. Sharing a dream with you.
[ It makes her heart beat faster, the way it does when Peter takes her swinging through the city—nerves and anticipation, butterflies in her stomach. ]
[ It feels weird, sometimes, having people come to him after Dom's roommate disappeared, like Hope's coming and going amplified the loneliness around him. (Even with the snow leopard that's currently staring at him.) ]
Yeah, exactly. [ This is — exciting. There's a thrill in his chest, something to look forward to until the new year comes. ] I'll show you Macau, then you show me New York.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
—yet hearing Gwen say that allows him a firefly of comfort, glowing gently in the darkness of that past. Dom stays quiet, fidgeting. ]
I'm — I'm glad. That I don't scare you. Because I really like you.
[ Words that warm his cheeks. ]
If you want— I could show you how I do it. You don't need to have magic to share dreams with me or anything.
no subject
[ Just listening to his breath on the line, for a moment, drawing her knees to her chest. ]
And I think— I’d like that. Sharing a dream with you.
[ It makes her heart beat faster, the way it does when Peter takes her swinging through the city—nerves and anticipation, butterflies in her stomach. ]
Can I come see you? Or—do you want to come here?
no subject
I can come over, if you want?
[ It feels weird, sometimes, having people come to him after Dom's roommate disappeared, like Hope's coming and going amplified the loneliness around him. (Even with the snow leopard that's currently staring at him.) ]
I can bring Dee. —but I don't have to.
no subject
[ Which—feels more intimate, somehow, than being naked with Dom within the first hour of meeting him. A huff of a laugh, realizing— ]
I mean, I guess that’s a requisite. For dreaming.
no subject
Yeah, guess you're right. Bet she'll be happy you want her to be there.
[ silence, then— ] When did you wanna do it?
no subject
[ If dream magic needs preparation, or—if it’s just tender, after what they’ve talked about. ]
Or we can wait until after New Year’s? Make it feel like a fresh start.
🎀 soon!
Oh — yeah, that sounds good. After New Year's. For a fresh start, like you said.
Is there a place you wanna visit first?
no subject
Maybe your home, if you wanted to show me? Or I could show you New York.
aaand 🎀
[ It's a deal. ]