🗝️ sender presses a key into receiver’s palm
It isn't the first time Puck has given her a housekey. Only that last time, it was an unspoken gesture. Left in plain sight on the pillow of what they still, at the time, referred to as a guest bedroom. Faust found a cord for it and wore it around their neck and Puck smiled at it once and the two never spoke of it again. Such was how those things were done with a young Faust still skittish about the word home.
That key stays with them, even when they're far off somewhere to study or cause a ruckus. Even after helping Puck pack his things and scrape off the runes they covered the house in (something about property value). It burned a hole in their pocket as they then helped unpack all that again, watching Puck settle in somewhere quieter, somewhere nicer, with a woman she loved, and who loved her back.
Still, after all that, after everything they've been through, Faust is surprised by the bronze key in his palm. He looks at it, then up at Puck, then at the key, then they make her take it back again while they fish through their coat for the other one. They work at the tight, years-old knot with their teeth.
"Shadowhar's not g'nna like dis," they say through a mouthful of worn leather.
Tugging it loose, they pluck the key from him again, quickly, as though he might change his mind, and pretend to be very focused on threading it onto the faded cord.
"She hates when I come in at the witching hour. Remember the time she nearly gave me a black eye?" It was the night Faust decided she was cool.
The two keys, one defunct, one brand new, clink against each other and Faust rubs their thumb over them both, still avoiding his face, finally mumbling their sheepish question, "You're sure this is okay? Like, you talked to her and stuff? And you- she doesn't... mind if I...?" If I stick around?
