Jaime Elizabeth Davies (frogs_not_birds) wrote in carnaval_logs, @ 2013-09-07 22:52:00 |
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Entry tags: | ~jamie davies, ~tom buckley |
Talking
Characters: Jaime, Buckley
When: Sunday, after closing
Location: her/their/whatever dealy
Warnings/Rating: Her mouth, and that's probably it. Maybe. We'll see.
Summary: Jaime wants to talk about things she's assuming
Status: Complete
Between needing to sleep the night before and working during the day (and not wanting to have that conversation during working hours), it wasn't until the carnival closed for the night that Jaime had a chance to pin Tom down. Well, not literally. Honestly, she wasn't completely sure what she'd seen or felt or sensed or whatever the night before. Sure, he was borrowing her bed instead of crashing in his assigned tent, but Jaime hadn't thought it had gone beyond that. She hadn't really thought about things going beyond that, though she'd be the first to admit he was a very attractive guy. But the way he'd looked last night ... it had just been a flicker of something in his eyes and maybe if she'd been paying more attention, she could have read it better. As it was, she was running with a couple of assumptions, and she figured she should clear those up, one way or another, before deciding anything based off whatever she had going on in her head. She'd made it back to the caravan first, and after washing up (she'd finally remembered to keep a basin of water in the trailer -- it wasn't ideal, but nothing around here was) she changed for bed. Or for couch, in her case. She also had a moment or two where she wondered if Buckley was going to wander off to his own tent instead of coming back here, and she found that thought didn't appeal to her in the least. She also realized she didn't exactly have any say in it. Just like he theoretically had no say in who she spent her time with, or what she did with them. Theoretically. It was a little disturbing for her to realize that things were happening that she wasn't completely aware of. Because she found she wasn't exactly opposed to Tom having a say in things like that. And that was just weird. Clad in her tanktop and a pair of something close enough to shorts to suit her, Jaime settled onto the couch and pulled the blanket up to her waist. She picked up a battered paperback she'd found in one of the trunks and opened it to where she'd left off. In the dim light of the caravan, it was a little difficult to read, but she did it anyway while she waited for him to show up. If he was going to show up. |