Re: Call: Sam/Cris
[He sits, ball quiet, and him breathing into the phone as he lies wherever he is. He makes a thoughtful sound, low in his throat, and it turns into something between a grunt and a groan as he sits up. To himself, a little,] ¿Vale la pena? [He rubs a hand over his face, palm scratching on day's shadow on his jaw.] Sí. You told me you were sorry we met when we did, when you were still in love with somebody else, and I said I wasn't, ¿recuerdes? If I hadn't met you, mami, I dunno. [He shifts.] Who knows what woulda happened—to me, to you—, but I'm glad I did, we did. I'm glad I fucked you in that chair. I'm glad you found me after and we went to that bar. I'm glad for all the stuff after, and no matter what bad comes with that, anya the craziness, I wouldn't give it up, not for any quiet, not for anybody more traditional or stable or anything you think I deserve or need. I dunno if that's overwhelmin'a me to say—is it?