Re: Capital: Jamie & Seven Friday night
There wasn't a lot of interpreting. Like, Jamie didn't KNOW what he thought in the unsettled drift of his own gaze over the car, Seven's hands wrapped around the wheel, the way his face opened up toward Jamie like shit could slide, unbroken between the last time he'd seen the guy mashed into the carpet and this like, totally together version of Seven that had all that shit folded away. Maybe it was just the first time he'd seen the guy without like, watching shadow climb him like a tree or watching whatever was riding him melt, like snow off a sidewalk. Jamie didn't know what he was waiting for exactly. What shit would be visible in a second that wasn't like, right now. Uncertainty skipped up his vertebrae, and he didn't shiver but it settled on his shoulders like ash maybe, dust.
He didn't answer. Like, he didn't know right now, the thought he'd had in the dark on the couch with the screen yawning bright in front of him was unclear, clotted around the guy sat in the car in front of him. Jamie moved instead. Like, commitment to a direction, any direction and he opened the back door instead of the front and let the bag on his shoulder slide down his arm until he gripped the strap and could toss it across the backseat. He didn't look for like, evidence of the kid's presence or the lack of it. Jamie deliberately didn't think - and then he did, like muscle-memory giving way to deliberation. He looked. There was no issue with looking, if he was cool with this.
"Why were you going to get a hotel-room?" It wasn't an answer, it was another question. He let the door slam on the backseat and the bag, and stood at the side of Seven's window, just long enough to listen. "Doesn't suck." Another smile, glimmered, bounced like a coin into a cup. He didn't know, but like, Jamie flexed the same muscle that was deliberate. It wasn't like getting picked up side of the road by a rich guy in a car that hummed for real. Idiot nerves like, fluttered on the back of his tongue, clogged his throat and he didn't know why. Jamie wrapped chill around him like a blanket, and dropped off the curb to circle the car, and let the music pour out the door as he opened it.
"Hi. Your taste in music isn't like, objectively shitty. You're already way higher rated than my last Uber."