Re: In-person: Cris/Sam
[After Joey's lil squirm is proven to be just that, and not a need to get up:] I wasn't unhappy with you, nena. It ain't like that. I was drownin' in my own stuff and tryin' to pretend I wasn't. I was havin' a rough patch, while you were havin' a rough patch, and it wasn't good for eithera us, huh? Am I right about that? [He touches her chin again as she winds fingers into his camiseta.] You bein' here, right now, it is enough. It is. Maybe when I'm real bad, sucking down more than you can give when you're hurtin' too, it gets stretched thin, but this, ahora, it is. [He means that. She might not believe him, but he means it, and he LOOKS it too, huh? Okay, so he's still a mess, but he's been doing better since she came in, little by little.
Her kiss back is soft, lips almost a dissolve, and he tries to taste those words still there, warm on pink. He envelopes her, as much as he can on that chair with his damn knee, and he feels good about it. Maybe he shouldn't and maybe he should feel more fucked up, but he don't. He's still worried, torn in a million directions, wanting to help Sam, alla that, but holding her always feels right. Is that cheesy? Yeah. But, it is what it is.
Sam nicks the beanie back, and the guy smiles at her as she puts it on over blonde. It looks cute.] You say 'selfish' like it's the same as bein' the antichrist, mami, insteada just bein' how people are sometimes, ¿entiendes? I don't think you are selfish, but, if you are sometimes, it don't make you a bad person, huh? [She tells him to let her do this, and he's trying. His fingers draw through fringe held down by knit, tucking it back over an ear. His voice is pretty steady. It's better he's talking 'bout this now and not ten minutes ago.] They're all in the same vein—dad, Pilar, Sofia. Sometimes it's just panic or just blood, bein' hurt, findin' people I love hurt—brains on the walls. Sometimes it's all real bizarre and specific. I been havin' 'em for years, mami. It's just how I sleep. The real bad ones are the ones with Dad. I get a real thick—thick feelin' in my throat. Half the time I'm pretty sure I stop breathin'. [He looks at Sam. He wantsta ask her 'bout her nightmares, but he don't just yet, trying to give her a moment to just talk about his, if it's important to her.]