Re: Marta / Seven
[She's spent most of the day after talking to Russ and Ella and Sam thinking. Even at work, bits of their words had managed to sneak into her head. Needing to talk to Seven, so much talk about how young she was... It stayed in the forefront of her mind now that he was home - right there in front of her again. And she wonders what it would take for her to stop calling it "home" now that she's started.
He's tugging on her arm before she expects it, her flat shoes scuffing over the rough grit of the driveway for the brief journey that brings her up close to his body. And then his hand is sliding up into her hair and she's wrapped in the strong curve of an arm, and just for a second, she closes her eyes and breathes. She knows that it would be so easy to just accept this, to soak up this touch and not say a thing, just keep going on like they have been. She can almost convince herself that it'll be fine - he can think of her like a little sister if that's what he feels about her. And she can hide her crush. If he doesn't already know about it. It'll go away. Isn't that what people say about crushes?
But the apology. Pressed to her head like the most chaste thing ever, and she knows that he can't read her mind, that maybe he doesn't know what she's thinking and feeling, but the apology catches her breath in her throat until it feels like fire. Whatever was meant to be communicated gets muddled on its way through her own thoughts. He's sorry about her feelings, her age, the fact that she keeps clinging to a man that sees her as a little sister - there for protecting only.
She notices that her own arms have dropped her bag to the ground, come up under the leather of his jacket so that she can clench fingers into the soft material of his shirt. She's shaking without meaning to, a tremor that haunts every breath. Her head dips forward to rest against his chest as she shakes it once, twice, and stills again.]
It's fine. [It's not - her voice is suddenly wrecked.] Gimme a minute. I'll... [Pull away, try to regain her dignity, pretend she's less of a mess. None of those get said out loud. And still she clings to his shirt.]