Who: Psyke Smith and Harper Brown
What: Talks about important stuff
Where: Their new house
When: Earlier this month this week ;]
There was probably some magazine that would pay like, thousands upon thousands of galleons to see her like this. Psyke rarely did anything without her hair being at least tied up in a perfectly stiff pony tail (very sleek) and her clothes were at least ironed and matching, but today? Ah, no. Today was for painting, and today meant that all of her good clothes were tucked far, far away from brushes and rollers and anything that remotely looked like it would stick to your skin for an unknown amount of time. She hadn't noticed the mess she was in until she entered the last, unpainted room of her and Harper's new house. Because of course they were redecorating; not as fashion-forward as her old house may have been, but this was what all of this 'moving in together' stuff was about. Compromise. And learning to share.
Sharing was hard.
But, anyway, Psyke noticed her reflection in the glass of the window and her eyes widened to the size of saucers. Her hair was pulled up and going this way and that in her horribly thrown together bun (ugh she should just have Florence move in with her--no! No no), Harper's big shirt was splattered and covered in a dark green paint, and as she moved closer to the window she saw that she had paint on her face too.
She grinned widely, and then hollered over her shoulder, "HARPER! WHAT COLOR IS THIS ROOM GONNNA BE?"
Psyke looked around, taking in the size and shape of it. It wasn't small, but it wasn't really big enough for an office or anything. Close to their master bedroom, too, so not exactly the ideal place for a guest room. Hrm. "What is this room?"
Harper loved Psyke and how she looked normally. She was a very beautiful woman and a model and all of that, but there was nothing more beautiful to Harper than the way Psyke looked when he poked his head into the room. He wouldn't say it, though, because it would probably come out weird like he thought she was pretty when she was ugly, and that would probably not end well. Anyway. Harper looked up at the ceiling and then came into the room, standing next to Psyke with his hands on his hips and frowning thoughtfully.
"Uh, well, you've already got the one large closet, but we could maybe have a doorway put in here and it can be overflow?" Harper pointed at the wall that bordered the hallway. "Or we could paint it brown and give it to Basil and maybe get him a friend?" Harper grinned hopefully, and as if he'd heard his name, the dog came wandering into the room, sniffing about. "How about it, hm? Wanna get a friend for you?" he said in puppy talk as he bent over to pat Basil on the head. "I dunno, it seems kinda small for an office and really, I've got that desk in the other room already. We could make it a sewing room. My mother has one of those, but nothing ever gets done in there except for hide and seek."
"Oooh, let's go to the pet store," she mused happily, but there was no way that this could be Basil and friend's room. Even Psyke wasn't that silly. No, no, this room could...be...
Ugh, she had no idea. Because like---for the most part, they were painting and organizing for things that would be there for a long time, you know? Like. Their offices, yeah, they both needed their space, they had their bedroom, and the guest room was already set up downstairs. She supposed that they could use another guest room, but really. They didn't have enough muggle friends for it to be necessary; why would any of their wizarding friends, who could disapparate home in a second, want to stay here? Unless they were beyond drunk, but it seemed like Psyke and Harper's friends and families were growing up a bit and growing further and further away from that party scene. Like, seriously! Alex was married, with a baby, so it was like--why should the younger sibling be more responsible than the eldest?
Oh! A room for Zacharias! Ohhh, that would be nice. Except Graciela didn't really like leaving him out of her sight for much longer than...maybe a minute. A toy room! A toy room for when they visited! With a little bed for naps and...well. Zacharias wouldn't be the only baby in the family, not that she imagined. Because, well. She could have a baby, too. Psyke wanted to have kids, and at the moment (because Merlin knew Harper could piss her off enough for her thoughts to change drastically) she wanted to have them with Harper. Eventually. Soon. Yes, soon.
Wow, her mind hadn't gone on such tangents in awhile.
"When do you want to start having kids?" she asked quickly, leaning on the windowsill. Because, technically, that was a very important question pertaining to what they did with this room. Paint it and give it to Basil, or leave it be until they needed a nursery.
Harper was a little surprised that Psyke wanted to go to the pet store. He beamed at her and crouched down to pet and talk to the dog. "Did you hear that? You get a new friend! Yes ew don't do that I saw you licking yourself earlier," Harper wiped his cheek where Basil had licked it, giving a disgusted look. Dogs just didn't know when to not lick. It could have been worse, Basil had been known to accidentally get your mouth when you were talking.
He was about to ask if they could go now when Psyke spoke up and asked that question. Harper looked up at her slowly, trying to determine if it was a trick question. They had been careful, right? Especially after the news of Zac, so if she was pregnant and testing him, and if he said the wrong thing, he'd be on the couch and they didn't even HAVE a couch yet. But was she asking about in the future?
"Uh."
Because really, what was he supposed to say to that? Harper had thought about it, sure, because Stephen's fiancee was talking about babies all the time and they weren't even married yet. Soon, though, like two weeks, which meant there was a bachelor party to plan and maybe Alex would need a break and wouldn't be a sourpuss and participate. Maybe if he got Graciela to tell him to go... but that was off of what he was supposed to be answering. "Before I die?" Harper replied slowly. Because it was true. If he said he wanted kids now (which he wasn't sure he did, but it wasn't a terrifying thought, like when Cam had asked him seventh year) and she didn't, well, he'd already fucked up once.
She frowned slightly, but not really annoyed. Psyke knew it was a question that she pulled out of the blue, so of course he was going to be startled (well, she assumed he was startled and not just trying to be dumb on purpose). Kids were a big deal, she knew, but it had been on her mind a lot, and yeah maybe---her thought process didn't make a whole lot of sense to anyone but her at the moment (well, it barely made sense to her, so), but it still wasn't...completely...crazy. She liked to think.
"I think like," she scrunched her nose, not really wanting to make this a super serious conversation, because they should be able to talk about their future without having freak outs or anxiety attacks. Honestly. They'd been together for more than a year, basically living together for months, moving in together finally, and so. They were adults. They could talk about this without getting twitchy. "I think---like, I wouldn't mind it, you know, within the year, or something? But I just mean that like--like---"
Psyke pursed her lips, trying to figure out what she wanted to say. It made sense in her head, but she and Harper tended to confuse each other a lot.
"I'm not 'let's-have-kids-right-now,' but it wouldn't be bad, right?" she blurted.
Harper blinked rapidly at Psyke, did she just...say that? That she wanted to have kids within the year? Did that mean...if it wasn't him she would have kids with someone else? Harper sat down on the floor, just mostly to give himself something to do as he tried to process it, leaning back on his hands and giving her a scrutinizing look. He had already proposed and she said no, but now she wanted kids?
"I uh, it's not a...bad thing, but. Don't you want to be married first?" Harper hedged a little, not really wanting to bring it up because he still thought it was a taboo topic. "But... also, this is like. The least romantic conversation in the world. It sounds like we're making business plans. Don't you...want it to be you know, roses and romance?" Harper wouldn't admit it, but he wanted to be romantic and to make it something they would remember and could tell their children about. "I mean, if we're talking about things we want, then you know, I do want kids, but I don't want to like, plan them out. Right now."
She couldn't help but laugh, and moved to sit on the floor in front of Harper, looking thoughtful. A happy thoughtful, at that. A few months ago Psyke would've shrieked and been honestly terrified at the thought of marriage, but now with the house, with the sharing of pets and bathrooms and kitchens and everything, she'd come to realize that marriage was just wanting to spend all of your time with one person and just living, really.
And, as much as they bickered and he managed to tick her off, Psyke loved Harper very much, and couldn't imagine a day without him.
So, yes, she wanted to marry him. Wasn't that cool?
"I do," she said with a nod, and Psyke felt the odd sensation of a blush growing on her cheeks. She rarely blushed, as she was normally so rash and blunt about things, but this was serious and romantic and ungh they were talking about getting married and babies in what could be their baby's nursery and it was soooooo cool.
"I mean--I do, want to get married. First. I'm not trying to plan our kids out," Our kids!, "or do business, I think this is stuff we can talk about, because--well, we just should. People talk about this stuff all the time. I just want to..." Her nose scrunched again, "I just wanted to say it, I guess. So that there's no more guessing."
Her blush deepened and she leaned forward a bit, eyebrows raising, "Harper. When have I ever been traditional?"
"We've never been traditional and that's kind of...why we need to do this right. Traditionally. At least something in our life needs to be done right because I can tell you I'll definitely fuck up more than I can know and I already have," Harper said with a shrug and focusing on the dog who was sniffing around between them, already with paint drops on his back. He felt a little embarrassed at this, but he wanted to insist on doing at least this the right way. Talking about marriage and kids was completely against what he would've been a couple of years ago, even though he had already proposed (in the wrong way)last year. That was different though, because he'd wanted it and she hadn't.
He'd wanted to ask a couple other times, like on her birthday/their anniversary, but had chickened out because of her reaction to the first one. This was now though, and Psyke was saying that she did want to get married now. Not now, though right? But sometime. In a year. Which seemed really soon. Harper bit his lip and looked up at her, scrutinizing her just slightly. It seemed genuine, and Harper wasn't about to disbelieve her right out, but it kind of seemed to be coming out of nowhere. "Now, please don't take offense, I just want to make sure, you know, no more guessing. It's me you want to get married to, right? Not just a 'I want to get married within the year to whomever I'm with' kind of feeling. But you want to marry me right? Because I want to propose but I only want to do it if you want to marry me, not because you want to get married."
She was biting the inside of her cheeks very, very hard. Psyke was very, very stiff, and all of her sudden her heartbeat was very, very loud in her head.
Wow, Harper. Wow.
Did they not just move into a house together? Did they not just move all of their furniture in, buy new stuff, paint all of these rooms together, plan out things together, figure out---decide on getting another dog, it---her mind was completely on the fritz, she thought she'd been doing things right, but apparently her boyfriend still had concerns over her real intentions. Hadn't he seen how excited she was about the house? Just now, she was smiling and blushing over the idea of their kids, and---and he questions her? He questions her?
Psyke looked down at her hands, which were clasped very, very hard in her lap. Maybe it was just Harper being Harper. He tended to say dumb things a lot. Not that she was innocent of that, not at all, but Psyke had really believed they'd be able to talk about this and not have it be weird or strange or awkward or---maybe she should just---
"It's you, Harper," she said, keeping her eyes down because she needed to say this right, to leave no confusion. "When I think about marriage, I think about getting married to you. When I think about kids, I think about them being yours--I want to have your children."
Her eyes were watering, not because she was angry or upset (but she was a little), but the truth spilling from her lips was very serious and--well, emotional, "We don't have to get married right now, or this year, or next year, or the year after that---I was just--talking, saying...that I wouldn't mind it, but--we can talk more about it. But--it's you."
Harper was ready for an lash-out, halfway into a flinch already when Psyke started speaking. And crying. Well shit! Harper hadn't meant to make her cry, but well okay the things she was saying definitely soothed over the raw feelings that had come forward (stupid thoughts too) and Harper scooted forward, so their knees were touching and reached his hand out, tipping her face back and giving her a half-I'm-sorry-smile and half-worried look, because he didn't know if he was going to be in trouble for those tears.
"I'm really glad, because I don't think I could take it if you wanted someone else," he said quietly, a little unsure that he was saying was the right thing. Harper leaned forward and kissed her softly, a promise lingering (at least on his side) between them. He was already making a plan to head to Gringotts first thing in the morning and retrieve the ring he'd gotten for her last year. How to ask though, would take a bit more thought and right now, Harper had other ideas and that involved locking the dog out of the room and way less clothing.