Re: AHS: Sam A & Cris M
"Fucking buzzkill," she said with a smile that said she wasn't actually pissed at him or anything. She was too relaxed to be pissed, tangled hair and sweet stick between her fingers. "Sand's fucking fantastic, even if it gets in the wrong places. I went camping in the Grand Canyon, well, around it or whatever, and rafting, and it was fucking awesome. There's nothing like being somewhere that sounds alive at night, yeah? Not like neon blinking lights or city slum sounds, but like the world? I bet the beach is like that at night, the water crashing and gulls and stuff. We didn't have any of that shit in Elizabeth." Inland, and her rents had never spent the money to take any of them out to Seaside or anything like that.
She watched as his features changed. She was observant, even fucked up, because art was about seeing shit. But she was clear just then, not stomach-cramp itchy hunger yet, and she knew that look. She watched him, focused eyes of inky blue, and she grinned when he came back to her. The grin was fond, and it was bright in the lights of the carnival that winked just ahead. Darker now, and the ferris wheel turned and blinked red and yellow. "Was she your wife, or someone else?" she asked, because dudes only got like that about some chick, man. That expression, it was all dude love.
She laughed at his teasing, and she kicked at his thigh with that same bare foot. "Fuck you. I was being helpful," she said, but she couldn't give him too much, not without going into her whole long and terrible fucking backstory. She didn't think she could hide it forever, because nothing was a secret on these fucking journals for long, but maybe just for today, yeah?
"Drop me off at the edge," she said, pointing to where they'd picked the car up. That was far enough, and she could return the keys once he'd gone back home.