Re: Russ C & Ellie K: Gotham quicklog
[He had run out of hopes when he hit seventeen and he started to rely on odds. Odds could be calculated and thought through and there were a hell of a lot more of them in a pack of cards than there were hopes in life that would play out. Russ's hands were calloused-hard, but as Ellie moved out of the hard hug and pulled off the dumb hat that hid too much of her, he inhaled sweetness and shuffled back from the door into the warmth of the hall. It was practically fucking tropical, because the kid in the living-room bitched about the cold as much as his mom and the heat was cranked even if he'd made Nathan wear a fucking sweater. That wasn't trailer-parks and bills, it was parenthood the way Russ had pictured it when he was Nathan's age.
His jaw worked, set and Russ fastened fingers around his coffee like he'd drop the fucking mug if he didn't. He was looking at her like she was letters on a page and he'd jumped from braille to words in ten seconds and was figuring out fast as he could in case they took it away. Tall. Skinny as fuck, had a jaw that looked a little like Ford's, chin too. No blue eyes but that hair was Ford too. Baby sister had grown: she was older than Ford, older than Sam, Russ lost his gauge and stared at her again.]
Missed you too. Nathan's in there. [A short jerk of thumb toward the living-room, Russ's voice was rough but steady, practical.] Get you some coffee? You meet him, he won't shut up. [Audible smile, something like pride.]