Re: Visiting the Hospital
Cris had felt outta place since the day he left the enclavea the Bronx for the wider, whiter world, huh? He used to be able to retreat home, but Repose didn't give him that luxury. It was default now, so it didn't usually bother him; he only noticed it now 'cause he was thinking 'bout Joey and how she looked like him, all Martin, not Alexander-Donovan-Morgnstern. (Now that he thought 'bout it, though Elena was pretty light, all things considered, Teresita was dark too, almost darker than Cris and Elena combined.) It was one thing for him to be used to how stuff was and another for him to imagine his kid in a world where she felt different, and he just saw that acute, just then, looking at all those who'd come to visit her, each one paler than the next, like a printer ran outta ink on the way from making Daniel to Iris. It had nothing to do with being friends. It was just fact.
No era importa. He couldn't and wouldn't talk to them about it. Maybe his ma would bring it up, when she came to visit or when she saw Joey on Skype.
Sam said she was good in an echo and he looked at her, reading her face, from the more genuineness in her smile to the way her gaze met his. She snatched up the clove and fished the lighter outta his back pocket. He hadn't actually thought 'bout her bailing at any point and her saying it had him dig his fingers into her chin a bit. But, she said to go and Cris just dipped in to kiss her, a little searching and soft, like maybe if he did it just right she wouldn't even think 'bout bailing. "Alright, alright." He ran his bandaged knuckles down Sam's throat quick, before he bapped her with his fist on her sternum.
He stood up and motioned to the trío pálido, gesturing with his head to the elevator. "She's just upstairs."