Harvey was happy that Aoves seemed pleased with her space. She often spent time in her room, or at least in the home, which made the red merle dog feel that he'd succeeded in making the space tolerable, or even, dare he say, pleasant. He hoped he wasn't making her feel too obligated to stay, though, keeping her from going out when she wished simply to show that she appreciate the place. He knew quite well what fun there was in getting out and about, so he only imagined Aoves could enjoy the same pleasure.
Though, unintentionally, he'd sheltered himself more than usual as well.
The wolfdog's presence had not only its affect on Harvey, but the house in general. Its set up wasn't just purely by the Brit's liking (or, rather, preference, as he didn't mind the setting arranged by the female's actions), and was officially a shared space. The scent of Rio and the other beings that roamed the house previously still lingered some (mostly of the dark shewolf, though, thanks to her still visiting her old home and former tenant at times), but the trace of them only seemed to grow weaker and weaker thanks to the two now residing there dominating the place.
He, too, wondered if one could tell that he was accompanied by a woman within the abode, even if they were not that often particularly physically close. Would that affect their opinion of him? He thought of it no more, simply shrugging it off with the idea that it shouldn't matter, as he was helping a now dear friend of him. Aoves' being safe and content was far more important than if others wrongly judged him based on assumptions of his promiscuity (especially seeing as the Londoner was anything but an easy fellow).
Worried over the adjustments she made, Harvey wondered if his upkeep was sufficient or not. Perhaps he was simply being too paranoid, but that, added with the fact that she seemed to avoid coming to him, as he invited her to do at any time, for any reason, even simply for comfort, made the blotched luperci think about his actions. Had he done something wrong? Was he coming off as too strong? He certainly hoped not. He was known (by those who knew him well enough) to be quickly comfortable in being at times touchy with acquaintances, appreciating giving an embrace before departure or pats to the shoulder when one is playful, no matter the gender or age. Maybe she was one to keep to herself? No... He didn't see it, remembering her subtle, but physical gestures of thanks, but maybe he had reached some sort of boundary that let him too close. The thought of invading her privacy or comfortability level made him grimace.
He sighed heavily as he listened to the soft plit plat of the rain drops on the roof. It was as sound that was actually quite lovely to the British gentleman, growing up where he had. Grey skies and dreary weather were common occurrences in his hometown.
Harv closed his eyes, visions of his old life becoming clearer as he let the sounds take him back. Towering buildings, red double decker buses pulled over to the side of crumbling roads. Ports with a strong, distinct smell of fish and salt, along with the musky dogs that hung about, scruffy in both looks and personality...
The old gang, a collection of ruthless hounds with scars covering their fit bodies, cold and apathetic looks upon their faces, blood stained on their pasts. Harvey was no exception. Innocence was a lost quality amongst these boys, snarling and ravaging near constantly to get what they wanted; power. Money, fame, sexual appeal... If they gained that, they were on top. It didn't matter if you were loved for good deeds and a strong heart, or feared for inhumane treatment of the innocent citizens and sickening thoughts conceived within their devious minds, as long as you were somebody in that place.
Most were granted a reputation for the latter (including the shamed blotched Brit), and it was nothing to be proud of... And nothing one wanted to die being remembered for, Mr. Butler later came to realize, as he lay violated and bleeding. Crimson fluid decorated his pelt and the icy concrete under his tortured body. His thighs burned, cuts dug deep by the nails of his attacker, who forced his yellowed talons into the shepherd's flesh in order to spread his legs apart, for easier access. He'd pulled himself into a ball, laying on his side as his heart pounded, his breathing laboured. He could have blacked out at that moment, but he would have only been lucky to attain an escape from the pain, even if only temporarily. No, he rested there, unable to think clearly, yet his mind raced. That's when it all changed.
Tha' voice...? He jumped, brought back to present time and location through the French accented dialogue. Just like the moment in history he'd been trying to cover up with his new life and opportunities, his heart raced, beating in his chest like a drum. His hand shook as he brushed his hair from his bi-coloured, watery eyes. Harvey tried to crack a smile in a sad attempt to calm himself down before responding. Why... Why did tha' 'ave t' come up...
He cleared his throat and even let out a soft sort of laugh. Oh, no, not a' all, love. Simply enjoyin' what I've got, I guess... Finkin' 'bout what all 'as gone on in me life since comin' 'ere. Really quite lovely memories. An', glad t' add ya as a part of dem. He mumbled, his grin more genuine now.
He needed that distraction she provided, but that wasn't purely it. Having somebody there who was the complete opposite of the men who made him so hated and filled him with rage was a step to recovery. Aoves was wonderful company, even with his selfish needs aside.
He could tell that she was joking, calling him king who was ruling over his tenants, but he really couldn't take offense to it, even if he had tried. No, he was far too appreciative of the mink-coloured woman's being there, focusing instead on that. His anger issues were never going to falter if he kept this up, remembering what caused him such harm. With such a sweet, kind individual close to him, he was motivated to keep his temper at bay. If he ever laid a hand on such a selfless and caring entity in a heartless manner, if he had caused her harm in any way... The idea of it revolted him, and he let it go with a quick shake of his head.
The cockney canine brushed a hand over her, shaking somewhat still as he swept her hair aside gently. His smile grew some before he gave an impulsive sign of thanks, even mouthing the words Thank you.
He was settled a bit more now.
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