Hmm… How do I even preface this one? Well, this is just some random Haleb conversation fluff that's all over the place! We have serious, emotional Haleb, some talk of the past and the future, teasing, playful banter Haleb, and even some Haleb dirty talk. Seriously, my favorite thing to write for Haleb is dialogue, which is basically all this is. Whenever I write a Haleb piece, the dialogue is the first thing I put down on the page because it's just so fun to write. I know this is kind of random, but I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Oh, and in my mind this takes place somewhere in early season 3, but the time frame isn't too important.
"Oh my god. Your apartment is freezing!," Hanna exclaims as she cuddles up closer to Caleb with her face in his neck. With an arm wrapped around her shoulders, he strokes her side over the blanket she's wrapped up in, as an attempt to create some warmth. The two are tangled up together on the couch in Caleb's apartment enjoying some much needed alone time away from -A, with Caleb in a simple t-shirt and pajama pants, and Hanna in one of t-shirts as well.
"No it's not. I think you're just an eternally cold person." It seems to him that Hanna is always cold, but he has absolutely no objection to warming her up in whatever ways he can.
"No," she says in that snarky voice of hers. "I think you do this on purpose so I'll have to get all cuddly with you just to stay warm."
He smirks at her logic. "Well maybe you just say you're cold so you have an excuse to cuddle up to me."
"Who says I like cuddling with you?" she challenges playfully.
He raises his eyebrows at her, amused by the playful banter they've got going on and the fact that she's made no attempt to distance herself from him. "Oh shut up, you'd be sitting here wrapped up in my arms even if it was ninety-freakin' degrees."
Hanna smiles and concedes. "True. I love cuddling with you. But you love cuddling with me just as much or more. Admit it."
He grins back at her. "I admit that l love cuddling with you, but my apartment still isn't cold," he says stubbornly.
She rolls her eyes, still cold. "Whatever, I'm going to get another blanket."
She gets up and retrieves a second blanket from his room before settling back on the couch and back in Caleb's arms. He lovingly kisses her check to welcome her back.
She finds his much warmer bare feet with her own underneath the blankets, and tries to prove her point. "Like do you feel how ice cold my feet are right now?"
"Maybe you should go put some socks on or something," he shoots back at her, a little surprised at how cold she really is, but not acknowledging it.
"Really?" She leans up to whisper in his ear. "Because you told me ten minutes ago that you'd prefer that I didn't wear any clothing for the rest of the night."
He grins at the mere thought of a naked Hanna that enters his mind. "I would prefer that, but you already have my t-shirt on and I never said anything about socks."
"What, socks don't count as clothing?" she comes back with. "Good to know. I'll be sure to wear socks the next time we have sex, you weirdo."
He laughs because he doesn't care much about any logistics when he's making love with Hanna. "Fine with me. I wouldn't want you to be cold." She just smirks and rolls her eyes at him again, not saying anything. "So do you wanna go put those socks on and do it now or...?" he asks moving a hand to squeeze her backside through the blanket.
She smacks his leg playfully upon hearing the question as her answer. She knows he's half-joking since she's practically spent the last hour getting nailed to his bed, but doesn't think he'd turn her down if she actually took him up on it since he is a guy after all.
"Is that a no?" he asks chuckling, as if he doesn't know her answer since she didn't give a verbal one.
"Yes, that's a no. You wore me out earlier," she says, her cheeks still in fact flushed. "I just want to talk now."
"Talk about what?," he asks as she shifts her position so that she is now sitting on his lap and facing him, with her legs tucked on either side of him.
"Anything." He doesn't say anything or take the queue to move the conversation in a different direction, so she begins. "You know something I've always wondered?," she asks quietly.
She's got a serious look to her face now and Caleb's genuinely curious, wondering what she's going to ask him. "What's that?"
"How did you get this scar?" She traces the little slanted line on his forehead that begins an inch or so above his right eyebrow and comes slightly towards the center of his brow. God knows she's looked at that scar thousands of times, but she has in fact, never asked him about it before.
She can feel him growing tense when she asks the simple question and lightly touches his face. His previously spirited eyes turn somber and his brow furrows when she touches the scar. He clears his throat, "I…um…," and he's not meeting her eyes anymore.
She knows him well enough to catch the hesitation in his voice and the question suddenly seems unimportant now. Just by the look on his face she senses that the scar is somehow linked to a painful part of his past and she knows how sensitive he can be about his miserable childhood in foster care. "Hey… you don't have to tell me if you don't want to." She didn't want their night to move in this direction if he didn't want it to.
His composure recovers and he shakes his head. Hell, he'd be curious and want to know everything that's marked her beautiful body if the situation was reversed so he wants to tell her. "No. No, you asked, so I want to tell you."
He takes one her hands in his own, not sure where to begin exactly. "I… I was living at this really bad foster home at the time. The dad was a mean drunk who seemed to hate kid after kid coming into his house, and looking back on it, I think the mom was going through some really bad depression at the time…" A handful of painful memories concerning the time he spent at that particular house rises to the surface of his mind, and he struggles to shake it off. Hanna senses his uneasiness and picks up his hand that she is holding in her lap and kisses it. "I don't know. I don't remember all the details," he says, not wanting to get into too many specifics. "Anyway, one night I was helping one of the older kids do the dishes. We started goofing off, doing stupid kid stuff, and then the next thing we know, one of the plates ends up shattered on the floor." He pauses. "He… the dad…got really upset and slashed part of the broken glass across my forehead. I had stiches for a couple months."
Hanna's heart starts to break from the image that Caleb has painted into her mind. He's rarely shared with her any specifics on his time spent in foster care and she knows that he doesn't like to talk about it. She feels the tears start to glisten in her blue eyes, but she has to ask the first question that's on her mind. "How old were you?"
"Six." He swallows the lump in his throat, his face emotional, but he refuses to cry.
"Baby…" she whispers wrapping her arms around him and pulling him into a hug. Her heart is now shattered, thinking about a young Caleb – a six-year-old Caleb – and the abuse that he had to endure in his early childhood. She imagines that the tight grip she has on him right then and there will be enough to take away the wounds of his past, even though she knows her love will never be enough to do that. And he's holding on to her just as tightly.
When he seems ready to let go, she moves her back slightly so that they are still wrapped up in their embrace, but so that she can place a gentle, lingering kiss on the scar. He closes his eyes at the contact; her lips on his sensitive skin making him feel cathartic.
"I've never told anyone that before. Always told some stupid lie about falling off a bike as a kid…. I just can't stand that look that people get in their eyes," he admits.
"What look?" she asks, wanting to understand.
"The one you're giving me right now. The one of total pity. I can't stand people feeling sorry for me."
"Hey, I can't help it." She strokes his cheek with her thumb, holding his face so that she keeps his gaze on her. "I love you and I hate that you had such a shitty childhood. And I understand that you don't like talking about it, but if you ever do want to talk about it with anyone, I'm your girl."
The corners of his lips slant upwards to give her a little smile. "I love you." But his impish smile makes a full reappearance when he asks, "Can I ask you something?"
"Anything." How could she say no after the emotional story she just got out of him after she asked him something?
He leans his forehead in so that it's touching hers. "Will you marry me?" He's smiling in a way that she knows he's not completely serious (like let's get engaged now and get hitched in the near future). Just a little bit serious, and mostly inquisitive and playful.
She smiles from ear to ear at the question because he looks so adorable and she loves the fact that he wants her in his future just as much as she wants him. She also smiles because she thought he was going to ask her a really personal question like she just asked him. "Caleb…"
"I'm gonna need a 'yes' or a 'no' answer on that one," he says sarcastically when she doesn't say yes right away.
He starts to tickle her sides and she squeals, "Yes!"
"How does June sound? That will give us a few months to plan everything," he jokes. He's still tickling her and she tries to squirm away. "Why are you laughing?" he asks innocently. "Huh? You're wounding my ego over here."
He lets up on the tickling and she responds, breathless. "June sounds perfect… June 2018."
He laughs and kisses the top of her head, pulling her back into his arms.
She settles back into his arms and traces circles on his chest through his shirt. "Now, I want to ask you something else."
"Shoot."
"Do you want to have babies with me when we're married?" She loves imaging a future life with Caleb.
"Of course." She smiles at him and he continues. "But just boys. No girls," he says just to tease her and get a reaction out of her.
And it has its desired effect. "What? Are you serious? No, I need at least one little girl who I can buy cute, frilly dresses for and teach about makeup…"
He cuts her off. "No way. I know if we have a daughter, she'll be just as beautiful as you are and I'll have to keep her locked up as soon as she's a teenager."
She smiles just because she likes the spin he puts on it – calling her beautiful and all. "True. She'd probably be a sucker for those charming bad boys with gorgeous hair," she says running her fingers through his dark brown locks.
"Mmm… I love the vision of you barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen."
She rolls her eyes, scolding him, "Try not to sound like such a caveman."
"What? It's a fantasy of mine," he says grinning.
She leans in, her lips touching his ear and her hand moving to the top of his thigh to whisper, "Do you have any other fantasies about me?"
He raises his eyebrows. "Um, yeah," he says a little caught off guard by her question and the interesting flow of their conversation for the night.
She raises her eyebrows back at him, sort of mocking him. "Want to tell me one?"
"I'm not sure. Are sure you want to hear one?" She doesn't know if she was hoping to embarrass him with that bold, flirtatious question of hers or what, but it amuses him more than anything. He doesn't mind sharing.
"Yeah, unless it's like, scary Christian Grey kinky or something," she says biting her lip.
"Okay. Well, there's the shower sex one. How could I not think about that since the day you walked – wait not walked – barged in on me in the shower when I was staying at your house."
She smacks his arm. Even considering how much their relationship has evolved since then, she still is kind of mortified by the incident. "That's not what happened."
"Maybe you're right. But don't even try to deny the fact that I totally caught you checking me out. Admit it."
It kills her to admit it, but he's right, she can't deny it. "Okay, I was checking you out."
"And you liked what you saw?"
"Oh, I liked what I saw," she grins mischievously with her hands on his chest, leaning in to him.
He smirks. His eyes turning a slight shade darker, he pulls her a bit closer to softly say, "You don't know how badly I wanted to rip your clothes off that day and fuck you nice and slow against the wall in your shower."
A shade of crimson taints her porcelain cheeks at the comment.
Caleb's fingers brush the heated skin of her cheeks. He likes to make her blush, which doesn't happen all that often anymore. "You're the one who wanted to talk dirty, Han. Tell me one of your fantasies about me."
Her blush turns a deeper shade and she stutters, "I… I don't have any."
"Bullshit."
She bites her lip and looks down, but Caleb catches her chin with his free hand and tilts her face up so that her eyes meet his again. "Well… there's this one of you and me… in my kitchen."
He grins at her and she doesn't say anything more. "I'm intrigued. Go on," he encourages.
"We start to make out like we always do, but instead of going upstairs to my room… you pick me up and we do it on the island in my kitchen," she whispers more confidently, but he can tell she's still a little embarrassed.
"Mmm…" he groans, closing his eyes for a second, picturing it. "I can make that happen sometime if you want," he says, his voice husky.
"Perhaps I'll take you up on that one day," she says coyly. Moving her lips to his neck, where she places some feather-light kisses, she lightly drags them up to his earlobe to graze it with her teeth, something she knows turns him on.
With a tight grip on her waist, he sighs. And now she's moving her hand dangerously low down his chest. "Are we done talking now?," he mutters.
"Yes," she breathes before connecting her lips with his.
And that's all he needs to hear before her picks her up and carries her back to his bedroom for the second time that night…
See… I told you that was random and all over the place! Oh well! Leave me a review please!
