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✧∘ଂ࿐ ཾ
Aaron's footsteps creaked against the floorboards of the hallway as he neared Máire's room, a sliver of light shining through from the open crack of her door. He knocked on the outer doorframe, with his free hand, holding a mug of tea in the other and waiting for her response: "Come in!"
Máire stood at the antique vanity in her dim room, pausing to look to the door as Aaron entered, smiling softly at his presence in her room, "there you are."
"A delivery for the birthday girl." Aaron held out the mug to her
She didn't approach him immediately, turning back to take out the last earring she still had in for the night as she had been when he entered. "You can put it on my nightstand." She looked to him, the tall man crossing to her bed and placed the navy mug on the side table. He looked vulnerable then, more so than usual — like his normal guards had melted down as he stood in her childhood bedroom tucked away from the rest of the world. With her.
"Have a good birthday?" He asked her, tucking his hands in his pockets as she retrieved the mug next to him to sip a drink out of it.
Máire nodded, but didn't answer. She placed the mug down, and then curled herself into his chest, slipping her arms underneath his cardigan and around his torso. Aaron smiled to himself, looking down at her — she was still dressed as she had been all day; the tweed gucci dress and matching tights she'd bought one of the days she'd dragged him shopping with her. He wrapped his arms around her as she buried her face in his chest. He would've stayed like that forever, if she'd wished. He would've done anything for her in that moment — in any moment.
"Braid my hair for me?" She looked at him, her chin resting on his chest
Aaron smiled tilting his head back, "Ah." He quipped, "so that's why you're being so nice."
The younger girl blushed, looking down again to press her face against his body. He reached down to brush some of her hair out of her face, "do ya have a hair tie?" he asked, and she pulled back smiling knowing she'd softened him into agreement. She nodded, picking one off of her bedside table and holding it between them for him to take.
He was tall enough that the shorter girl didn't need to sit below him, allowing her to sit down on the bed with him as he pushed himself back to lean against the headboard on the opposite side of where they had stood before. She didn't say anything then, pulling her knees up to her chest and absentmindedly tracing the interlocking G monograms on her tights as she focused on the feeling of Aaron's hands in her hair, braiding it back into a French plait like he used to do after long nights of shooting on set when they'd filmed together.
Aaron tried to focus on the braiding to distract himself from the intimacy of the moment. He liked her best like this, when she allowed herself to just be the Mars he met before her name started to carry a weight with it; when she trusted him enough to let down the persona she'd constructed around Máire Kavanagh, with all her enduring charm and wit. She was just a girl here, a girl he was afraid he'd fallen for.
