Re: Shadowcrest: Sam & Louis
Sam was wearing hospital scrubs. That was what he fixated on first. She had been the one to discover Joey's heart, he knew, though no one had told him many of the details. Worry crossed his face in a familiar way, almost normal again. "Do you need clothes?" It wasn't right, her wandering around still wearing what she'd most likely had on when she opened the bloody box. Why hadn't anyone brought her things to her? "I'm sure there's something here you could wear."
That would be upstairs, though. He couldn't help her with that directly, unless she consented to wear books and papers.
There was a blanket balled up on the couch between them, and he nudged it toward her without thinking. She looked cold, and tired.
And distracted. His gaze sharpened, slightly, putting something together about how she'd paused when Neil quickly broke for the first floor. "Don't take Neil personally," he said, quietly. "He's been in a state." As he had every right to be. Though, leaving only when Sam arrived made him a bit of an ass. He had just shot someone who looked like her in the back of the head. Optimistically, maybe he was afraid to look at her too long and think about it. If so, Louis could only hope it didn't last. On a more normal level, maybe he was worried about what he might do with Sam if he stayed around her too long. He had someone now, and they had been together until Neil cheerfully fucked off to be a pirate. Perhaps it was more fraught between them than he'd previously realized.
Louis didn't know. He was realizing, just then, that he knew literally nothing about how things had been between the two of them since Neil came back, aside from a few sideways comments of Sam's. He had been to distracted by his own troubles, addled by lack of sleep and trying to do what he was supposed to while stepping gingerly around a gaping hole in his head. There was so much he had to make up for from the last year.
He smiled when she said he looked good. He didn't have that hollow look that had been there for so long, dead behind the eyes from more than lack of sleep. It was sincere, but it was small. "You look terrible," he clucked, with faint good humor, and he nudged the blanket toward her again. She had obviously been crying. Joey - he couldn't think of him. It was an invitation, though. She wasn't alright.