Summary: Being around him all the time, living with him, has held multiple discoveries for her.
Character Dynamics: Spitfire
Prompt: Spitfire; Sunshine. — for sar-cat (on tumblr) AKA Blooming Cosmo (on FF)
There's lipstick smeared just beneath the bristles of her toothbrush, a rich wine tinct that's crusting over from the frantic swipe she took to the teeth last night before her date with Wally. She had rushed from her last class of the day to their apartment, dodging a landmine of neglected moving boxes once inside, with merely forty minutes to transform herself into a total knockout before Wally had the chance to get back from his latest lab assignment on campus.
Two weeks ago, a short while after they had tackled their first round of midterms for the school year, Wally had volunteered the idea that they place reservations for some snazzy restaurant in the heart of the San Fran Bay area in celebration. With limited openings, there hadn't been any way to plan around their classes, but Wally was determined to "do something nice" with her. They needed some general way to unwind. He hadn't been too keen on her finding a bit of release from near death situations authorized by Batman, so Artemis decided to entertain the idea of a dinner date for him. With additional, pricey perks, of course.
After slipping into a little black number, teetering back and forth in her heels, bickering with him about who would pay for the bill, having her dress hurriedly yanked off in the confines of their bedroom, and not really falling asleep together until what she had to guess was three in the morning, she can't help but grin at the sight of the smudge of makeup.
To say that last night had been amazing would be underestimating the occasion dramatically.
A slick trickle of minty foam escapes an upturned corner of her mouth, dribbling down the curve of her chin as she sputters into the sink. Her toothbrush clatters to the tabletop as she reaches for a washcloth to wipe the froth from her face with and, above the commotion of the rushing water and her slight coughing fit, a throaty chuckle suddenly rises above it all. The warmth of it curls in the very shell of her ear, snugly burrowing down in her eardrum.
Quickly spitting into the sink then vigorously rubbing at her mouth, Artemis turns off the rushing water and begins to shove words through her aching throat. "Wally, I thought you were still... asleep."
He's leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed in a way that defines every muscle under his bare torso. The taut bunches ripple as he gives a nonchalant shrug, "You woke me up." His deliciously apple green eyes suddenly drop her gaze, a single brow quirking above them, and she's all too conscious of how much of a hot mess she must look right now. After rolling out of bed with a hazy pain from last night's champagne clouding her sense of direction, she had simply snatched up his rumpled dress shirt from the floor to cover up, not even bothering to button it as she dragged herself into their bathroom. What must have been fifteen minutes of wrestling the tangles and knots out of her intricate updo resulted in a near handful of hairspray glossed bobby pins. Once she had tamed most of her blonde waves and frizz to resemble something less like a birds nest, the urgency of scrubbing the morning breath out of her mouth overpowered the need to wipe off the remaining makeup from her face. Maybe, she thinks, getting rid of the raccoon eyes would have been a better start to this day.
"You were singing," Wally adds, smiling wider when he notices the blush that's darkening her skin.
"Was I?" She asks in a soft, nearly breathless tone before she can enforce it with more of a backbone. Swallowing hard, the residue minty paste burns its way down her throat, causing a grimace to contort her lips. If she hadn't felt so stupid for asking something so obvious, in a voice so pathetically delicate, she might have smothered herself with one of the hand towels hanging off the wall.
But she knows that it's more than a stupid question that's doing this to her. It's being caught by Wally that has her blood surging.
"Yeah, you were," he affirms, sharing a light laugh even though hers has more of an embarrassed edge. "Couldn't understand a word of it, though."
Distractedly placing her toothbrush back in its holder and cleaning up the rest of the tabletop, Artemis doesn't bother tucking back the wild curls of her hair as they unfurl in her burning face. "You know that I don't sing much in English, let alone know any of it."
"Actually, you don't sing much at all."
She stops her mindless scrubbing with the washcloth when Wally draws nearer from behind, encircling his arms around her to part the fabric of the open dress shirt that's hanging off her shoulders. As he drags the sleeves down her shoulders, she's shivering under all his fingerprints.
Once the fabric crumples to the floor, his fingers tease over her bare stomach (something he particularly loves to do ever since he found out that she has a ticklish spot) on his way back up. Shaking for a whole new (and completely unfair) reason, she tries to twist around to face him but he's laughing into her hair until she can feel his lips on her neck. His arms wrap around her waist to hold her as he presses kiss after smiling kiss to the spot where they both know a thin scar the color of ivory lace lays across her skin, and her piqued attitude instantly melts away. She's leaning back into him, nearly sighing out loud when he's breathing hotly between kisses, words escaping in a tone that's much richer than it was mere moments before. "You only sing when you're really, really happy."
Smiling as she angles her neck for him, she aims a sideways glance at the mirror, thinking that the sight of them together, in each other's arms every waking morning, is something she's warming up to. Ever since moving in with Wally, she's had to adjust and adapt in ways she never thought possible. She thought she had known Wally well enough, but being around him all the time, living with him, has held multiple discoveries for her. Like the way he gets fed up with cleaning all the dishes when it's his turn and basically shoves them all into the dish washer, or his habit of chewing off all the eraser bottoms on their pencils when he's concentrating on an assignment, how he hasto brush his teeth every single time he leaves the apartment, the way his sneakers have to be double knotted, how he's in this stubborn denial that he does not snore at all, or the way he puts his shirts on in a particular pattern (right arm first, head, then left arm). All his habits and routines make her wonder about her own tendencies, because if she knows about most of his, then he's most likely figured out some of hers.
And he's just like the constant sun, always rising with her in the morning, burning her skin with kisses, radiant with his emotions, just like the way he wears his heart on his sleeve for her. He's the sunshine in her day.
His teeth give a playful tug at her earlobe, and she nearly loses her train of thought, but she's able to get it out in a single, bated breath. "You make me happy, Wally."
At this, he blows a warm laugh into her ear, trailing kisses to her temple as his arms finally slacken enough for her to turn and face him. It's all skin on skin contact, and she can't help but think that his touch is absolutely delicious.
"Well," he starts, resting his forehead against her hair, "you make me happy, too, but don't expect me to sing about it."
"Nah," she assures before reaching up on her toes to place a chaste kiss under his chin, "it's enough just to hear you say it."