Re: Quicklog: Vegas, Sam & Mere
[Cris turned the knob and pushed the door, and Sam walked into that room backward, smiling stupid at him and still blushing from that swat to the ass. It wasn't exactly the best way to enter a somber room in some green house that wasn't as nasty as it could be, but that wasn't anything gorgeous either. Still, it was better than the tenements Sam had been raised in, and she didn't feel unsafe there or anything. But maybe that was different for someone raised good. After all, the girl thought a four-bedroom apartment in the barrio was some mansion, so she wasn't exactly great at determining wealth.
But, yeah, ok, eyeballs poked out. She went back to the words when they finally registered, after she was done looking at Cris stupid in that doorway. And, young, fear flashed across her features for a second, before she steeled herself to turn around and LOOK.
And she wasn't good at hiding shit, so she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the redhead there HAD eyes. Then, Sam leaned against Cris, remembering him being upset, wanting to stay close, because close always made her feel safer when she was upset, and looked at Meredith. Taking inventory, and Meredith was pretty, yeah? That red hair was copper and shiny, and it made Sam touch fingers to her own messy, badly tousled blonde. She was comparing, trying to figure things from looking at this old lady. But Sam, at this stage, she didn't think herself ghetto, not yet, and she wasn't as self-critical as she would be in later years. So, yeah, she saw a pretty vieja, and it was only the rheumy and unfocused eyes that detracted.]
Yeah. Hey, nice to meet you. You look good. I thought you'd look really messed up bad.