Re: Sonrisa: Sam A & Cris M
He couldn't ignore her. Her fingers followed his bottom lip, and it was only the solvent stench that kept him from flicking his tongue out to catch Sam's fingertips. She breathed and talked about being stupid and that it was all okay, but Cris was just confused. And maybe he hadn't been clear, huh? With his offer?—But both his stubbornness and his curiosity wanted to know what the hell she was getting at. He didn't freak, he just tried to put the pieces together. And the guy had been a detective, for years. He was good at reading people and situations, figuring out context from nothing but a footprint and somebody half-remembering somebody else wearing a hat or something like that, scraps, nothing but bits and pieces, and he could put it together 'til he had a picture. Right now, he didn't know if it was how bad everything had gone, how tired he was, or if he was just getting worse at the stuff he'd been good at once.
He didn't budge.
"I'm sayin' you can stay with me, if you want. I know you gotta still work and all, huh? But, if you wanna—" Fuck it. "—move in with me, you can." And quick: "You don't gotta. You—you can just stay the nights you want, if that's... easier, pero—you said it was somethin' you need, this thing you won't tell me, even if you're just stayin' for a lil bit. If it's somethin' you need, nena, I wanna give it to you. Just close your eyes and tell me. Please?"