Re: Gotham: Jake & Clem
[Jake didn't care about hate festering away in his belly. He knew it, same way he knew he was mad about being left like he was a box of things with a name written in sharpie up the side, 'Graham's', shipped on home and he was mad about not being the way Savannah wanted their boys to be.
The parties sounded like no party he ever wanted to go to, and the kind where the invite didn't spell out expectation in gilt on card. Jake reached over, the grime tiding at his wrist and his hand clean-pale and he closed his own fingers over the back of her palm because that whole idea of hunting out things that weren't good for you, that he understood.]
Gotta start out thinking, to want to stop [Jake muttered it, but he was done with thinking about Graham and the warm and the soft lull of the music and Clem's own steadiness was soothing. His smile wasn't much to write on home about but he gave it to her right then.] I didn't want to stay there.