Re: In-person: Sam & Cris
[She should realize he's fragile. The thing with Meredith, with going to see the redhead, should have taught her something, but she just doesn't think of him that way. Despite all the times she's seen him cry, she still looks at him and thinks STRONG. Maybe that's external shit, yeah? Maybe if they had a chance to just sit and date and talk and be, then she'd get it. But they never got time for that, and it's always one bad thing to the next. So, she doesn't even get he wants to stay with her. She only knows SHE wants to hide. She's never done that before, hidden, let other people face shit that was ultimately her fault. Ok, so she didn't make this Elliot guy do what he did, but she's still integral, yeah? That isn't even vanity, but she isn't going to run in stupid this time. She wouldn't be able to make it out the fucking door, and she gets that fear paralyzes her. She doesn't want seizures, or to freak out so bad she hunts down a needle, and she hasn't realized yet the hunger's manageable, not like with Cris in the bathtub weeks earlier.
But he's kissing now - throat, jaw, lips, cheeks - and she's kissing back the same way. Like there's a fire, and the more kisses the rains on him, the better off he'll be. Or maybe it's her, yeah? Maybe she's the one that needs it. Right then, she isn't panicking about the future, about him getting tired of her, about her being bad. She's just worried, and she knows this is work, too. Cerise, too. And she can't ask him to stay, though she wants to. He's gripping that medallion, and she scoots back enough to get her fingers around his knuckles, like she gets that he's holding it - acknowledgement or something, though she isn't sure of what.] Yeah. Maybe. [Maybe he's right. Maybe the sun will find its way back, but she tugs the Caridad free of his grip, lets the warmth his body transferred to gold rest against her chest.]