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It's kind of difficult to hide entirely from someone when they can literally feel your proximity. Still, Teagan is Teagan, and will try.
When Johnnie returns home from whatever it is that Johnnies do when they are out doing things, the door to her room sits ever-so-slightly ajar. The room itself is mostly dark, but smells clean -- clean linens, the room tidied. A single jar candle sits on the nightstand, filling the room with a complex autumnal scent -- pumpkin, leaf must, sandlewood, and something musky and sweet. Its light flickers over a flat velvet box about as big as a CD case and twice as tall.
Oh yeah. And Johnnie's goblin bauble warms up as soon as she gets to the room's doorway. Of course, Teagan is nowhere to be seen.
Johnnie pauses at the door, the knowledge that inside is at least one trusted folx helping settle what would otherwise almost assuredly be a complex and violent entrance into her sanctuary. She does pause and spends a few moments reassuring herself- Any other presences? Probably not. Any scents of blood or injury? Likely not the case. "Mmmh... I might not bother to LEAVE until that candle runs out. Someone's excellent taste~" she states, finally stepping inside and proceeding to investigate this velveteen box, resisting the urge to shake it and assess what's inside. "Teagan, are you the bedspread? Or have you gotten particularly better at contortion?" She wonders aloud, as if Teagan might have wiggled into the tiny box.
They don't answer -- not yet. Of course they don't. The box's black velvet surface glitters under the candle's light when the flame flickers subtly a moment after Johnnie stops moving.
"Alright, I'll bite~" She murmurs, seeking out the proper method of opening the box, so as to ensure she doesn't say- try to crack open a steelbook case like she would a pizza box.
It looks like it's just a simple hinged box -- she can see the curls of a brass hinge's knuckles peeking out from between the velveteen top and bottom. The flame steadies itself again, as if -- should someone else be in the room, too -- they've come to stillness. Not that this should surprise her; Teagan's ability to stay motionless in one place for hours is kind of a Known Quantity in the Direct Action household. That trinket which alerts her to Teagan's presence? About as warm as it ever gets when they both have their clothes on.
"Ah! There we go," she murmurs, leaning backwards idly, curious if she'll run into a Teagan or have to catch herself with some shadows or some unrealistic acrobatics as she cracks open the case to see what might be inside.
She leans back, and the weight of Teagan's scarred palm presses against the small of her back as the Mirrorskin murmurs, "Happy fifth anniversary, Johnnie."
The case cracks open, revealing a silver filigree necklace just long enough to drape over Johnnie's collarbones, set with five pieces of opalized obsidian, each about the size of a blueberry. Their mirror-polished surfaces reflect the light, their hearts shot through with crackling veins of rainbow iridesence. The silver setting glitters in the candlelight, delicate autumn leaves drifting around the shimmering gems.
Johnnie, for once, is struck silent. Her shadows curl to delicately lift the piece so she can look at it without her arms in the way- those are busy clasping her hands over her chest as she stares wordlessly. She stares, just so, for several long moments before hazarding, breathlessly:
"Would you put it on me, love?"
"Five years ago today," Teagan explains, reaching to take the necklace from her shadows, "you told me that you love me for the first time." The point when they went from being some variation on friends with benefits to something much more. Remember when that was fraught, and neither one of them was very good at saying things out loud? Remember when Johnnie didn't want love but worship? It seems like another lifetime, from the tone of their voice.
Their long fingers undo the clasp, and they carefully lay the necklace around her throat, on her collarbone, and close the clasp at the back of her neck, leaning to kiss just above the silver where it rests on her shadowy skin.
"Teagan, love..." Johnnie hardly knows what to say, and releases the necklace to Teagan without issue, breath stilled while the gorgeous piece is placed on her too-slender throat, shivering a touch at the kiss. "You're amazing. I mean- it's amazing. How do you remember these things..? By the time I want to know what such dates are, they've passed from memory."
She's quiet a long time. "... five years. I can hardly remember a time when you didn't know I loved you. What a five years it's been."
They pause for a moment, and she can hear the shift of their shirt on their shoulders, the movement of the soft cotton as they shrug. "I don't know when my birthday is," Teagan answers, kissing the round of her shoulder as their hands come to rest at her waist. "So I remember other dates instead." They lean forward a little bit, resting their mouth on the line of her shoulder. "I know," they answer. "It's hard to remember that you weren't always here."
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