Re: In-person: Sam A/Cris M
[He laughs—a sputtering, shocked kinda laugh, when she asks him 'bout the cow onesie, and if he'd been drinking, he'da spit everything everywhere. It's not a laugh given by the guy often, huh? Cris is a dry kinda laugher, a chuckle or a sly grin. This is nothing like anya those things. It takes him a minute to be able to tell her,] Hell yeah. Are you kiddin' me? [He laughs more, but it tapers—tapers to quiet, once the pup's dozing and he answers, talks 'bout how him talking with her is different than other people.
He leans forward to run a thumb along Tedito's head, elbows digging hard into his thighs. They ain't doing so good at packing yet, huh?
Cris looks at Sam as she scoots.] Not really. I know that ain't nice, but I ain't nice. The people I like and care about, sí. Or if it's for a job, huh? But, otherwise, nah. You remember, we'd just go back and forth, talkin' and talkin'. I'll ask... philosophical questionsa people—like 'bout fate with Sparrow—but it's just to get her to a place, or so I can understand the contexta what it is she's sayin' to me. I don't really... care... [It feels rude to say, but oh well. Cris grins 'bout the skirt, peering at Sam through black lashes.] Prolly not. Tonight, when we're back at our place, you ask me.