Re: Capital: Sam & Cris
She edged closer against him easy and willing, yeah? With a glance over at him when he leaned tall like that. No matter HOW much arguing they did in the hall, or how cold-sweat pale she was, she still thought he was beautiful, yeah? She stared a little, and she gave him a weak smile when he smiled at her. But he mentioned his pops saying he - Cris - needed to know when to shut up, and she shook her head hard, yeah? Fuck getting dizzier. "Nah. No. Fuck what your pops said. You don't need to shut up. It's good, us talking, yeah? Even if we don't always get it right." She believed that. "I don't want us not to talk."
He rubbed the edge of her braid to her cheek and, predictable, that made her smile dumb and sweet. He put his hand on her back, and she leaned more, real fucking close to him and only reluctantly turning her gaze back to the window and all the babies inside. And some of them looked really fucking bad, yeah? Even with the distance she could tell that some of them were hella bad sick.
His hand slid to her hip, and she let her cheek press against his arm. She stared, yeah? She couldn't see great from where she was, and her vision was starting to go starburst at the edges, but she could still SEE. And maybe he could tell, yeah? That the world was threatening black. Her weight heavier against him or whatever, less standing on her own two feet. "She's not pale," she said hopeful. "But she's so small, yeah? And all those tubes." Worried, and she tipped her chin up to look at him. And, yeah, she definitely looked like she should probably get back into her fucking bed.