Re: In-person: Sam A/Cris M
[Cris stops thinking 'bout Neil when Sam takes his hand, pressing fingers under her shirt. He's smiling, and he's real bad about that—about not smiling. He knows it's hard for Sam, the belly, alla that, but he's stupid and excited and he can't get over the kid moving around, no matter how many times he feels her press up against him. He flexes his fingers there, pushing back light—a lil we're out here for the baby, like she could even know.
He looks up, black lashes low, as Sam talks past the stuff he said about her.] You'll get past your stuff too, nena. [Stubborn, he brings 'em back.] You're good too, huh? Prometo. [He tries to smile, but she slaps a hand over his mouth. After a second, he peels her fingers back.] No, I said you could ask me somethin' I didn't like. [They're lying there on the bed, not getting no packing done, but it doesn't matter. Tedito's snoozing anyway.] It's not disgusting. It's just a processa the body, beautiful in its own way. Kinda sticky,—painful for you,—but beautiful. [With a smile.] And we'll get a kid outta it. So that's somethin'.