crossmyheartandhope

[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.]

Yeah, uh--

[She tripods to keep balance while clambering over his thigh to the "in"-side; goes to pull the blanket up and finds herself out of hands with which to do that without awkwardly stretching across his body]

--Little help?

Yeah. Sorry, yeah, lemme -

[He reaches to take hold of the blanket, to pull it up over the both of them.]

Ah, okay, hold on--

[levers herself down, half on him, and rearranges herself where she can curl into his side, arm careful across his body under the blanket.]

Okay?

...yeah. Yeah, that's - that's good.

[After he's settled in, he reaches out, cautious to get an arm around her, as well.]

Are you - good?

Yeah, I'm good.

[She shifts a little closer, then pauses]

...I mean, I'm good if you're good. You good?

...yeah.

Yeah, I'm good.

[The smile on his lips is small, and maybe hard to see, considering how dark the room is. But it's incredibly earnest, and more than a little grateful, and lands somewhere in the way-better-than-good category, honestly.]

Okay.

[She relaxes a little, lets out a relieved sigh]

Okay, good.

[He hesitates - shifts in a little closer, so that he can hold her less awkwardly.]

[Does not seem to have any issues with this]

[Okay, good.]

[Good.]

[He breathes out, and a little of the tension goes out of him - curls in nearer, and tucks his head in against her. And if that reminds him, for a second, about how she'd tried to do the same when she didn't have a head to do it with, well - well. He does a pretty good job of not letting that show.]

[She raises her hand higher up his back regardless, movement automatic; hesitates, then gingerly leans to press her cheek to the top of his head]

[The hand at her back curls in a little at the gesture - strokes carefully along her spine, as much to soothe him as to soothe her.]

[Swallows at the feeling; takes in a breath, then lets it out slow and shaky, ruffling his hair a bit]

[He keeps it up, then, slow strokes from the wrist, a gentle back and forth. His own breath is steady and even, slight warmth against her collarbone.]

[Slowly, she relaxes some as well, though careful, as if she might break something. Her hand creeps up to the nape of his neck, and she trails her fingers through, light]

[(She is fairly certain her collar is buttoned enough not to leave any shadows over her skin but...)]

[He's quiet for a long couple of minutes, curled up there against her, fingers tracing idly back and forth, forth and back. The motion has slowed, a little, maybe as he gets closer to sleep - but then it comes to a stop, at around the time when he takes a startled breath in.]

...what's this?

[She jerks when he does, not that she'd been asleep but certainly awake now]

...What's what?

...I dunno.

[He reaches up, careful, to touch - like he's afraid it might be something not yet healed, the edge of a raw wound.]

This?

[All he gets in return is a blank stare for like two beats before her eyebrows raise, and she takes in a quick little breath

Then she huffs it out; rolls to her back, casual]

That's--nothing. A zit, maybe.

[Whatever it was, it felt smooth and warm, same as (presumably) any other skin of hers he's touched]

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