crossmyheartandhope

[Winces a little, guilty.]

...sorry.

You didn't text, so I - I kinda... I mean, it kinda seemed like you didn't want me around.

Not much here worth sticking around for without you, so I took off for a while.

Didn't think you'd want one, from me.

[Which isn't exactly the reason, but is close enough]

...Not that good at typing, anyways.

Hey.

[The word's soft, and very gentle.]

Since when've I ever not wanted to hear from you?

I mean - I get it, if it's a pain till you get your arm going again, or you just didn't wanna deal with me for a while. Like, if you didn't wanna text cause you were sick of me, that's one thing, but -

- for real, dude. I missed you. Course I'd've wanted one.

For real?

[The words come out small and needy and she regrets them instantly wincing as she tries to work out a backpedal]

Uh—I mean—never mind. But I’m not—I wouldn’t be sick of you.

For real.

[He lets go of her jacket, finally, with one hand, just enough to lift the hand and cup the back of her head with it.]

For real. I wanted to see you. I was just -

[His voice breaks, a little.]

...you sure you're not tired of me? Cause, like - I get it, if you're sick of me dropping the ball all the time.

[She gives a tiny, incredulous laugh, shivering at his touch]

I’m not—I’m not. Why would I ever be tired of you? I’m the one that’s— You’re always up for fun stuff, or dumb stuff, or like—if anybody needs anything, you always try to help or support, even when it’s impossible. Anytime I ever needed anything, even when I was too dumb to ask, you were there. Even when I ran away, you were there. And—

You’re like, a legitimately good person, and I— I wish—I wish I could be a better help to you, is all. I just— I mean, I want to be, so if there’s ever something— J-just tell me, okay?

[She stops herself there, lower lip wobbling]

Are you - are you kidding?

[He curls his fingers in a little, gentle- strokes through her hair.]

Dude, I -

I can't think of anyone who's helped me more than you already have. I was - I fell apart. I hit rock bottom in about a hundred thousand pieces, and you just, like - waded in, and helped me pick em up.

You know how many times I almost gave up? But, like - you were always there. Every time, you got me turned around and back on track, and I -

I'd be pretty screwed if you didn't have my back. That's all I'm saying.

[Shakes her head a little, rueful]

...You're the one who did the heavy lifting on that one. That's how strong you are. Plus, I'm pretty sure there's more people in your corner than you think. A bunch of 'em didn't put a bunch of swords in your back, neither.

You got some choices, is all I'm saying. I get it if you wanna consider more of 'em.

I mighta done some of the lifting, but if you hadn't been around, I never woulda got it up off the ground.

Every time I been low, you been there to get me back up. And when things are going good, you're there then, too. You're just - I feel lucky, okay? I think about how this place'd be without you, sometimes, and I - I'm lucky I get to have you around.

I made my choice like forever ago, and I'm gonna keep making it, and some dumb angel having some dumb powers we didn't know about that made first pass go off the rails isn't changing that.

[He takes a shaking breath in; it had all come out in a rush, the words slipping out like they didn't quite ask his brain for a filter, but he stumbles to a stop, now, a little unsure.]

Unless. Unless you like - don't want me around anymore or whatever. That's - that's different. Say the word and I'm outta your hair.

But otherwise... otherwise, I'm gonna stick with you long as you'll have me.

[With a small, soft noise, she presses further into the crook of his neck, her face hot enough that the cool is welcome. Her breaths seem tight, the lump in her throat only harder to swallow around.

This—what he’s saying sounds too good to be true. But—also too good to turn down. In the end, she clutches more tightly to him...she’s not strong enough to do otherwise.]

I-I don’t want you to go. And if...if you don’t want me to go, I don’t wanna leave.

I don't want you to go.

[He holds her a little tighter, the hand clutching at the fabric of her shirt and the one gently cradling her head both.]

I don't want you to go.

[Squeezing her eyes shut doesn’t stop tears from seeping from them, and her breath hitches too much to get out much of a response, but she manages a decisive “Good” nonetheless—tries to tangle closer best she can]

[Good. Closer is good.]

[And maybe he doesn't know what to say, now that he's managed to get all of that out - his face is warmer than the rest of him, where it's pressed against her - but if he's allowed to just hold her for a minute, that's plenty.]

[After all that, not much else that needs to be said for a while, maybe. Holding is good, and being held is real good, and if he doesn’t want her to go, that means he’ll let her just stay here...right?

For now she stays put as the new bout of tears subsides and her breathing slowly steadies, warm against his neck]

[Slowly - slowly - his grip on her jacket becomes a little less desperate, like he's just holding her, instead of terrified she's going to leave.]

[Even more slowly, some of the tension starts to go from his shoulders - not much, but a little bit. The hand in her hair stutters back into motion, slow and almost cautious, gently stroking.]

[To say she calms at the touch would be exaggeration, but she hums a little, and shifts just enough to fit more comfortably against him than the previous desperate crush. And--that's all, just lying still and letting herself enjoy the experience of just being here, like this.

Eventually she centers her hand over his back where his heartbeat isn't, but at least she can feel him breathing.]

[It's a steady rhythm, mostly calm - though every now and then, the intake is shivery and a little uneven, from the aftermath of the tears.]

[He closes his eyes and just lets himself have this, for now. It's more than he'd ever thought he was going to get again, and he settles against her and soaks it in. And if maybe the tears start again, less hysterical and more quiet relief, maybe she won't notice.]

[She starts stroking her thumb over his back, small but soothing--to her, at least. Maybe she won't always have this but she does for now, and she closes her eyes, takes in another breath of his scent, lets it out as slow as she can.

Her pulse still speeds along, keyed up, but she's tired to the bone. It has been a long couple days, to understate the issue.]

[Soothing to him, too. And for a while, he just enjoys it, quiet and contents.]

[After a long time, though, he shifts, just slightly - pulls back enough so that the word won't be a muffled nothing, when he speaks.]

...hey.

[She immediately tenses, hand stilling]

...Mm?

...you don't got anywhere to be? Like - for real?

[She pulls back so she can see him; squints at his expression, as if she's afraid she's missing something even this close.]

...Where else would I have to be? Crying in the toilet after getting dumped? 'Cause that was kinda as far as I'd planned today.

[Which...whoops, honesty again, but at this point, what did she have to lose?]

[His expression's soft and very unsure.]

...what? No. Dude, no crying in the toilet, vetoed, that's.

I was just thinking, like -

[He hesitates.]

If we're gonna be here a while, we don't got a good set-up here, not like the hideout. No wall to lean against. So, like -

[He hesitates even longer, this time.]

...if you're not going nowhere, and I'm not, we could probly lay down, or something. If that's easier.

...Oh. Yeah, probably, yeah, 's a good idea.

[A beat, and she moves her hand to kind of shove the blankets and pillows over to one side (kind of, given that they're partially underneath them, and thus are only moving so far)]

...You, uh. Wanna get in?

Yeah. Uh. Lemme -

[He hesitates again - moves to disentangle himself, though he's frankly a little reluctant to let go. He shifts a little, awkward, to get more of the blankets down, and then shifts more so that he sitting in a place that will be beneath them, when they're drawn up again.]

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