The Blakeley residence is not a quiet home. Music blares out of the cracks in the establishment. The front door remains wide open, only a screen separating the inside from the out - and the reasoning behind this is quite obvious. It's warm out, but there's a comfortable breeze blowing this early evening, which prompts the owner of the residence to ventilate the musty air by keeping everything wide open. Currently, Hyde himself is sitting upon his living room chair, ignoring the heavy rock playing all around him and staring instead at the paperback book in his hands.
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Now that she knows where he lives, she can drop in unexpectedly. After a phone message left at his place the other evening, Scarlett is well aware of what today is. She carries two items with her. A purse, and a small cardboard cake box. Glancing into the house, she knocks on the door. Loud enough to just barely be heard over the music, but heard nonetheless.
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Hyde does not jump to his feet, when he hears the knocking upon his door. He waits, allowing himself to finish reading the page, before finally letting out a sigh and getting to his feet. "Come in," he yells out, god-earing the page he stopped reading on and slowly making his way towards the front door, paperback still in hand. "What do you wa-Scarlett?" Needless to say, the man is surprised. With a curious frown on his face, his eyes travel over her form, lingering upon her two object, before swinging the screen door open for her. "I…uhh…what're you doing here?"
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"Happy birthday?" Scarlett smiles, trying to push her way into the house without being asked to come in. Sure, the door is being held open for her, but she's taking what she wants anyhow. "I heard the message while you were in the bathroom last night, and I thought I'd do something." The little cake in the box isn't really the big surprise, but it'll work as a first line of offense. "It's nothing fancy."
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Hyde does not protest to her muscling into the home. In fact, he just stands to the side for her, slowly licking his lips in contemplation. "How do you know tha-…oh." That explains it. "Well…thanks. You didn't have to do anything, you know. It's just another day. But since you're here anyway, I guess, make yourself comfy." He will not apologize for the messiness of his bachelor pad - she knows it anyway, thanks their their dinner the night before. Helpfully, he holds out his hand to try and collect the cake from her. The book - Complete Works of Albert Camus - is tossed to the couch without a care.
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Messy she can handle, clutter she can't. His space is large enough to be messy without making it feel claustrophobic. "No one ever has to do anything. I did, you're going to eat the damned cake, and you're going to enjoy it." Scarlett gives him a look, and hands over the cake. When he opens the box, the picture on the cake is a black lacy bra — hand drawn, and an exact match to the pair of pilfered panties he snagged that one day at her house. There's no big, flowing 'Happy Birthday' scrawled on it, just the date and his name.
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Hyde rolls his eyes at the wary way she peers at him when he offers to carry it for her. "I'm not going to chuck it at your damn face," it's not much of a reassurance, but it's one…kind of. With the food item in hand, he carries it over towards the island in the kitchen, and then slides the box open - only to let out a snerk of amusement. Clearly appreciative of her decoration, he casts a glance over in her direction with what is unquestionably a smirk gracing his lips. "Is that a preview of what's to come?" He drawls out with muted interest." Beat. "Thanks. I guess. Ah, give me a second." And he walks around, in search of the silverware and plates necessary to enjoy the baked good.
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"It's a reminder that I'd love to have the matching panties back," she retorts as she waits for him. While he's in the kitchen, she pulls out a smaller box from her purse, and starts pacing the living room with it. Back and forth, a glance to the book, then she starts to randomly pick items up. De-messifying the place a little. Bad habit, but really she's got to do it because it's either that or follow him into the kitchen and be all awkward. "You're welcome, I guess. Glad you like it." She waits a tick, then adds, "And no. I'm wearing red tonight."
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"Remind me to get 'em for you tonight, then. I've got no use for them - turns out, they make my butt look big." It's a joke, judging by the casualness of his gruff. Soon enough though, he will have gathered the nessary tools and cut the cake. And when he leaves the kitchen to get to Scarlett once more, he's got two slices of cake to dole out to her and himself. "If you're going to tidy things up a bit, don't forget to vacuum," he announces, even as he offers over her slice. "Heh. Red? Color of the devil."
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"Do you even own a vacuum?" Scarlett will do it, though she'll likely slip in here one day when he's at work and get it done. Placing the few items she's been tidying into a neat little pile, she turns to take the cake from him. In return, she shoves the other box at him. "Here." Then she's moving toward the couch, and seats herself on it carefully. Stabbing the pie with the fork, she glares at him. "You can keep them. I already bought another pair."
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"Of course I-…" Wait. Does he own a vacuum? Arching his brows, Hyde falls silent for the moment as he tries to recall where he last put it. "…Er. Yeah. I think I do. I was kidding, by the way. Unless, you know. You'll actually do it. In that case, I wasn't kidding at all. And the panties, you mean? Cool." But then, there's the box. Small, compact… "Okaaaay, if this is your way of proposing to me…" It seems that Hyde is in a particularly cheeky sort of mood. Putting the cake down for the moment being, he cautiously moves to open up the box.
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"Sorry, Surly. I'm a bit more of a traditionalist when it comes to marriage. The guy's meant to do the asking." Her eyes fall to the book again, and she stares at it for a moment. "Maybe I will. Some time. If I feel like it." Stabbing another piece of the cake, she noms on it silently while he opens the box. Inside the box is a hand made watch, the leather band carefully sewn. Beneath the glass face is a little orgy of people in a brain-shape. The hands look to be gold-colored and all that. What Hyde will never know, of course, is that there's a strong protection spell placed on it.
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"Ah. Well, good." It's pure chance that let's Hyde see the way she's eyeing the book. And so, pausing from his unwraveling, he nods to it. "Camus. The Stranger, The Rebel, and a couple of his other books. I'm revisiting it for person purposes." With that curt explanation given, he returns to the present. And when he looks it over, it's in a clinically analytical way. It takes a second further for him to realize what the 'brain' actually is comprised of, but when he does, there is a broad, pleased sort of laughter exploding from him. "Heh! That's cool," he allows, taking it out of the package in order to attach it to his wrist. "Where'd you get it?" It looks to professional to be one of hers, surely.
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"Huh?" Realizing that she's been caught staring at the book, Scarlett quickly shovels another piece of cake into her mouth. "Oh, yeah? Never read Camus." Maybe that's why she's interested in the book? "Philosopher, right? Generally linked with existentialism?" Reaching out and grabbing the book, she looks it over. When he laughs at the watch, she glances up to see if it's a pleased laugh or a mocking one. "Me." There's a reason she may just look a little more tired than usual, and it has nothing to do with him keeping her up all night. "I painted the back image, shrunk it down… did the leather work." She glances at him curiously. "The original is only an eight-by-eleven, but if you want it it's yours."
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She'll find that the book is littered with annotations, with key points, phrases, and words underlined in a manner that is almost more difficult to decipher and as chaotic as his home. When Hyde said 'revisit', he wasn't kidding. "That's the one," he agrees easily enough when she describes Camus to him. "Dude's a nutcase and a trip the first time you read him. But…" Beat. "I can let you borrow it once I'm done, so you can see for yourself." When she admits to doing it all herself, his brows arch in surprise. "Huh. The craftsmanship is top notch. Not that I know much about watches or anything, but…cool. Ah - you know what? I've got a couple of walls that could use something. Get it to me, the eight-by-eleven copy."
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"Thanks," she says of the watch. Watches generally aren't her thing, and she did have to redo it a few times to get it looking proper, but she managed. Maybe there's a new men's line in it or something, even though it's time consuming. "The plate, and mechanics are a kit, really. So it's not like the entire thing is from scratch, just the important pieces." Grinning, she sets the book down and finishes off her small piece of cake. "I'd like that, actually. If you don't mind. Otherwise, I'll go grab a copy from the Deli." Which sounds weird, unless you've lived in Dallas long enough to know that the Deli is a bookshop. "Can do. I'll bring it by when I have time."
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Hyde shakes his head slowly, simply. "I don't mind." He offers, before pausing with a contemplative air. "In fact…you can take it with you tonight. On the condition that you let me know what you think of him by the end, when you return it." After all, it's not like Hyde has very many people he can talk literary and philosophical with. Finally, he goes for the cake and begins to chomp away at it. "Ah, god. This is disgusting," he complains, even as he shoves another forkful into his mouth. After all, he needs to make up for his apparent kind-ness SOMEHOW, and insulting her cake is the only way he can think of right now.
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"I'll be sure to let Betty Crocker know," Scarlett says, getting to her feet so that she can deliver her empty plate to the kitchen. As she walks by him, she flashes a hand out to slap his ass. "I can do that, though it might take me a bit to get through." Running a business, and trying to create new items, not to mention renovating the Coven space is eating into a lot of her free time lately.
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"I've had them before. They come out well, unless you fuck 'em up badly. What're you, trying to poison me?" Of course, even as Hyde wails about her badly her efforts have turned out, he's finishing off his first slice as though he was a starving orphan from Africa. But then she's striding past him and even slapping his ass. Slowly, he cranes his neck to the side to peer at the woman as she saunters away, a ghost of a curl at the corner of his lips. "Your objectification of my God-like body is, frankly, insulting," he drawls, not serious at all judging by the gleam of his eyes. "I'm a human, not a piece of meat. I know, I know - it's irresistible, and you think of me twenty-four seven, and I haunt your dreams, but really now. Be more respectful and reverential in your approach."
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"Get over it, birthday boy. Be glad it was only one smack to the ass." This called from the kitchen as she rinses off the dish, and leaves it sitting in the sink. "Obviously I'm trying to poison you. Only way to forcibly get you to submit, right?" Leaning against the door frame, she watches him as he eats the cake. "If I wanted to worry about being respectful, I'd have left with the guy from the Warehouse." Low-blow to Carter, but Scarlett's recalled what he said to her, and she's not at all happy about it. "Besides, who the fuck said your body was God-like?" Rolling her eyes a little, she can't help but grin.
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Once the eating is done with, Hyde allows his tongue to dart out and wet his lips, even as he turns to head towards the entranceway separating the rooms in the house. "Heh. Respectful with him because you wouldn't be tempted to want to touch him…ever?" He asks for confirmation of his understanding. Heading towards the door frame, Hyde doesn't hesitate to slide in close - almost unbearably close - to Scarlett's person. Looking down his chest to the shorter woman, his body is barely separated from hers, and his breath almost close enough to feel. A moment passes by like this, with Hyde looking as though he's a millisecond away from capturing her in a kiss and pinning her against the wall - until slowly, he backs away and heads for the sink. "Well. How would you describe my body, then?"
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"Eh." Scarlett bobs her shoulders up in a small, pitiful shrug. "Who's to say? He's a nice enough guy and all but…" There's something a hell of a lot more exciting about how Hyde's not afraid to just take what he wants. With him that close, she doesn't swoon, doesn't melt, doesn't make a move. Just stares him down, until he's gone. "Adonis-like, though not entirely correct. Adonis was blond if I recall my mythology correctly. Chiseled is a good word. Too bodybuilder for my tastes though."
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"He sounded like a stupid fuck at the bar." But then again, most people sound like stupid fucks to Hyde. Once the plate has been disposed of, he can return to his previous perch directly in front of Scarlett, this time daring to get even closer, his head dipped towards her. Her inactivity and passivity bothers him, in an almost childlike manner. The fact that she's not back down or rising to the challenge irritates him. And so, much like their first real experience with one another - here he is, with his hands on either side of Scarlett, pinning her to the surface behind her. And so close…too close. Daring her to make a move, any move. "I'm too body-builder for your tastes? What, are you into the artistic, androgynous, pansy types? Is that how you prefer your men to be…?"
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"Most people sound like stupid fucks at the bar." Something that Scarlett knows firsthand thanks to St. Patrick's day. The fact that he seems to be bothered causes her grin to grow a little. "No, the word chiseled sounds too bodybuilder for my tastes. Bodybuilder… maybe pygmalion. Statuesque. You're a hell of a lot better to look at than a statue," she says slyly.
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As he moves in closer, she reaches into her jeans pocket and yanks out a black scarf. Which is quickly flung out in an attempt to loop about his head, and be tied into place there. "Birthday surprises aren't quite done yet," she states, still not making a move on him.
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"Heh. You know what - I like to think so too." Nothing like a little ego-stroking to sooth the soul. Hyde is almost put at ease by her willingness to humor him, but then she strikes. The scarf is looped around him, and Hyde's initial reaction is to pull away from Scarlett with a frown, trying to peer down at the scarf. "…Oh yeah?" He inquires once he's gathered his bearings once more. "If the next surprise includes me eating cake off of some portion of your body, can I preemptively say that I approve."
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"Not quite," she says. Although that does bring up a few other things she had thought of. Scarlett cinches the scarf tightly about his eyes, not letting him edge it off. Then she grabs his hand, and demands, "Your keys." That's right. She's going to lock up the house. Possibly drive his car. He won't really know until they get where they're going. "Now." Forcible, since they'll be 'late' otherwise. She knows he has a penchant to verbosely argue.
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Hyde clearly hesitates. Hesitates to the point that it looks as though he'll flat out refuse, and rip of the scarf to stare at her. Hesitates to the point that he'll uphold his wet blanket reputation. But then, after a moment's though, he lets out a long, doleful sigh. And his hand reaches into his pockets to produce his keys and hold them out for her to grab at. "If you break anything - anything - you're paying for it."
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There is a smirk, oh yes there is. That moment of hesitation says a whole lot. Scarlett is grinning, quite likely like a mad woman. So he obviously trusts her enough to be blindfolded with her, with her driving his vehicle. Interesting. Even so, she ushers him out of the house, locking the door behind them. Then she guides him to the car and plunks him in the passenger seat before getting in and starting it up. "One peek out of that scarf, and I'll pull over and give you the rest of those birthday spanks. Even if we're in the middle of the Interstate."
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"S'that a promise? Drive slow. I don't trust women drivers. And if something happens to my car, well - let's just say that I'll be handing my birthday spanks over to you." Silence for the rest of the journey. Hyde is irritable, shifty, and clearly growing in a bad mood at the prospect of not only having his eyesight stripped from him, but this woman driving his beloved muscle car.
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"It is, and I'll drive however the hell fast I feel like." Scarlett does, however, drive the speed limit. She's not a crazed driver, even if she's in a muscle car. There's no telling where she's going, because she's making a point of taking the longest route possible to get to the desired location. When she finally pulls the vehicle to a stop, she eases the keys out of the ignition and orders him to stay put. Then she's out of the car, getting his door and helping him out so that he doesn't trip over his own two feet.
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Hyde does not do well blind-folded. He is about as graceful as a sack of potatoes, and so he does have to rely upon Scarlett very much so, but he doesn't seem to mind. He's not embarrassed at least. "Are you going to tell me where we are yet?"
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"You'll know soon enough."
