Re: In-person: Cris/Sam
You didn't mess up—[He struggles, trying to figure out how to explain, feeling the words slip through teeth, fingers, and lips.]—It's not like that. There ain't... Mami, you ever been so low—you got people who love you, you got friends, but you are this close to wantin' to die? Maybe you don't wanna die. You just have stuff weighing on you, sucking you into a black hole, and you can love everybody, they can help you—keep you just this sidea things, and that's a huge thing to you, but to them, they wanna be able to do more, not realizin' how much they're already doin'. But, even still, 'course it's not "enough" to put you back where you were, 100%. That's what happened to me. It wasn't you. I dunno how... I dunno if that makes sense. You weren't bein' bad, nena. You weren't selfish. You weren't neglectin' me. How I felt, the big blacknessa it, ain't somethin' anybody can dent. It just has to pass. You—[He frowns.] I keep explainin' it wrong and I dunno how to do it right. You weren't bein' bad, okay? You gotta understand, huh? Where I was. I moved away from everybody and everything I knew. I got this new job, with new people. Meredith was here. Pilar was fuckin' hauntin' me. Which ain't me sayin' I regret comin', 'cause I don't. It's not like that. Just that it's natural for a forty-year-old to have trouble adjustin', 'cause us old folks are slower. I was happy to be here with you. I just couldn't—there was nothin' that I could handle good. Not 'causea it was heinous, or 'cause it was selfish or too much. Just 'cause I couldn't. ¿Sabes? Does that—do you get what I mean? [Sincere, right? Cut open, bleeding, 'cause he don't know how to say it good and he's sure he's digging a hole, but he has to dig, right? He has to dig 'til he finds the ladder. He keeps hoping the next handfula dirt is it. It's all he can do.
It's good she gets louder, 'cause it helps him feel less lost, some sail without wind. She offers wind and he puffs up into it. She blushes.] You could just bein' sayin' that, huh? [He hugs her.] But, I'll do it anyway.
[Her fingers feel good where they field through his hair. He laughs, too swampy to not give away his tears.] ¿Te imaginas? If you didn't, he wouldn't know how to look at you. 'S'this mean I gotta wear a shirt? [He turns toward her lips, to press fingertips to jawbone and make her look at him, close.] Maybe not, but I'm gonna say it anyway. [Wet, black eyes move down her face, soaking up details greedy, before coming back. With a stifled grin, he reaches up and shoves the beanie from her head, spools his fingers in blonde and pulls her in for a kiss that's equal parts wet and gentle.]