Re: In-person: Cris/Sam
[At least he sits. At least she feels like she did that right, and she takes a few seconds to really LOOK at him, yeah? When he's trying to sprawl unsuccessful. Sticky, and that shirt clinging to him in a way that makes her wanna crawl on him, and it's only the baby that keeps her feet planted, yeah? It's in her gaze, that want, need, whatever, and she'd be luring him lurid if it wasn't for the responsibility slung and pressed to her tits. It's how she wants to deal, yeah? If she can't have a hit, then she wants to sweat and go wild and come hard. But their lives have changed, and that isn't a fucking option, and she just looks at him long and hungry.
In the end, it's the notification for Manning's replies that makes her look away. She pulls new phone from pocket, and she reads and types and reads. She exhales craggy and thankful, and she's quiet.] Iris isn't dead. Manning says she needs to be calmed down, but he doesn't think I hurt her. He's gonna check.
[There's sweat-laced palms then, and she nods. She nods, reminding herself to be chill, to be supportive, not to scream all the fucking things she's feeling until her lungs are concave and her voice hoarse. Later, she can do that later, yeah? Fall apart later, and she gives him a shaky smile and moves forward, closer to spread knees.] Yeah. It's gonna be good. You fucked up over Meredith? [She tries, and manages, to mostly get it out steady.]