Re: Capital: Sam & Cris
It was lull, yeah? Sagging there against him on the floor, and she barely felt the cold come up through the fabric at her knees. She wished, in that idle way people wished for shit when they were falling asleep, that they had a blanket. The sleeves on her borrowed pajamas were short, yeah, but he had to be fucking freezing in that camiseta, and both of them were knee-soaked from the spray of meds on the floor. But she was comfortable there, and she felt safe, and she just tried to rub warmth into his arms dumb and young, with fingers that were too cold to actually do much. But words came easy when his hand stroked his own blood through the golden strands of hair that would need to be washed again, and she just wanted to breathe and hear his heartbeat against her cheek.
Cotton-far off, she could tell she'd said something to panic him, yeah? She hadn't meant to, and she tipped her head to look at him, the loll a little too exaggerated. "To be good for you. You remember you used to say that? That you wanted to be good for me? You are, yeah? You always take care of me. You're always strong for me. You're good for me. But I'm not so good for you, yeah? I haven't listened good, and I been selfish, and I- I need to clean up, yeah? That's it. I gotta. I'm bad for you if I can't get my shit together. I don't wanna be bad for you." Heartfelt, and she touched her fingers to his cheek and exhaled long through her nose. "I wish we could stay here, right here." A pause, and a hint of a smile dazed. "Maybe with a blanket, yeah?"