Re: Jamie & Hannah & Si (& open to any Mayer+ types): kitchen
Jamie didn't see either twin as resilient. Maybe Amy gave the appearance of it, or she gave the glittery, light-catching distraction that made you think about the appearance of it but yeah, nah, too much shit, knee-deep to wade through for resilience to maintain the coppery brightness of something struck new. Amy had talked about Si, about fresh skin that could be bruised easy, about weight and keeping it free. He worried, yeah. The insubstantial, non-linear kind of worry that was like getting meshed in loose string, He didn't know what the road in looked like, how it clogged and cluttered on the way to no good at all. It was formless, not like Amy's, that had shadows and mileage to work off, or Si's own, shaped and formed by ghosts and expectation.
So he didn't like, react when Amy cracked a joke about being like dad, even if the first thing Jamie thought about was divisions, walls and quiet, he smiled, good natured af and shrugged. "If I start liking baseball games, kill me, its all down from there." But like, his calm expired at the limits of where family crashed up against the delicate shit, the tentative af just-about-okay shit with Seven. Maybe it would be okay, he knew the guy had like, a 90% chance of meeting Mars in like, the hallway on the way to the bathroom and he knew Amy. But weight, right? But it wasn't like, NOW, next week or whatever, in May, from what Si said.
"Okay, for the record? I'm pretty cool with no one but me ever having sex in my bed. I totally appreciate your commitment to my getting laid at your party but I think we're cool." He definitely hadn't been to the same parties Si had, but that seemed way fucking obvious. "You can talk to Seven if you want, he's around somewhere, he's not going to cook you pasta, so I think we're good. May's pretty cool. Home in time for the summer, you're on like, BBQ duty."