Who: TJ Jung & Pen Shapiro Where: Suite 6B When: Wednesday, July 22nd What: Delivering a gift Warnings:N/A
The middle of summer wasn’t such a terrible place to be, considering weeks earlier. Though there was residual tension between agents and metas, for the most part Pen was able to focus on gardening, on her writing, and her friends.
One of whom was TJ, her new best hug-machine. Since she gave him the go-ahead to embrace her whenever he wanted—deodorant-free or otherwise—she was suddenly and regularly ambushed by hugs. Quick ones, mostly, where he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and sat his chin on her head, stilling for a moment as though he were recharging.
Then he'd bid her adieu and scamper off in the other direction saying that he had something to do afterwards. It was an extra thought that didn’t need to happen, but was sweet. Pen usually wasn’t physically affectionate. She utilized her oversized personal bubble to keep most people away from her. Though nice enough, she just wasn’t the hugging, cuddling, touching type. But TJ was a sweetheart, and she would defend him to her very last breath.
Today she’d completed her project of eye pillows, one of which was meant for Evariste, but who redirected the intended gift to TJ. So she stood at the door across the hall from her own suite, knocking and hoping he was ready for some lavender-scented sleep-aid goodness.
"Coming!" A muted voice called from behind the door, and after what sounded like some clumsy footsteps clambering about, it clicked open to reveal TJ. "Penny?" His usual grin spread over his face, and he pushed the door further open to give her space to walk in. "Hey, what brings you here? Want to come in?"
“Hi!” She was so glad it was TJ, especially when the likelihood of it being him was 25%. “Sure, just for a moment. I won’t keep you.”
She stepped in and without much preamble held out the linen gift, the scent of lavender drifting from it. “I was making eye pillows and...Evariste thought you might like one.” It wasn’t an entire truth, but she highly doubted anyone remembered the details of that conversation. “They’re great to help for sleeping.”
"Eye pillows?" TJ glanced down, eyebrow arched, then it gave way to recognition. "Oh, cool! These things are eye pillows? I've always called them sleeping masks. Can I?" he asked, looking back up her to wait for permission, and once she gave it he took the gift from her hands and held it in his own. "It feels so soft! Did you sew it yourself?"
“Yeah!” She stuffed her hands in her pockets. Gift-giving was a special, embarrassing moment. One had to practice looking entirely cool about it. “I did. It’s basic linen, and there’s flax seed inside. You know, so the scent isn’t overpowering. Because as much as lavender is great, I feel like if anything is too strong, it’s distracting. And you can heat it up, too. Microwave for like 20 seconds and there you go.”
It was more of an answer than he asked for, but maybe she wasn’t as cool as she tried to be.
“It’s not typically everyone’s thing, and if it’s not yours, I can always make you something else.”
"Well, I've never tried it out before, but now that I have this I can start," he replied. The eye pillow was well-made and the band held strong when he stretched it against the crook of his fingers. TJ pulled it over his head, setting the pillow across his forehead. "This is great. Thanks, Penny. I love it."
And of course, he opened his arms to properly show his gratitude, beckoning her in for a hug.
She gave him a squeeze without a moment’s hesitation, hands darting from her pockets to find his back. “I’m glad.”
Relieved, too. But mostly glad.
“Actually, while I have you for a moment—so, you like to go to Capers sometimes, right?” She rocked back on her feet. Naturally, most people did. Some more than others, the majority used it smartly for socializing. “Mind if I join one night? I haven’t really done anything there in years and I trust you more than...well, probably anyone, actually.”
“Sure! Wait,” he paused, brows furrowed over his eyes, which creased from his returning grin. “I mean I wouldn’t mind at all. Are you looking for a designated driver, ooor a wingman?” Now his brows were going up and down—because he wasn’t so good at waggling them—and he laughed. “I’m good at both! I promise.”
Her laugh was immediate. “Let’s do it this way: friend/designated driver. Because I know I’m a lightweight! And wingman only if you think there’s potential somewhere. I’m not—you know—I’m very—well, you know.” Out of practice? Maybe? The closest thing she’d had to a date in years was the night out with Gregory, and that wasn’t a date at all. Pretty much, she was boring. “Like I said! I trust you, though.”
“Don’t worry,” he said, and leaned in closer to murmur, hand shielding one side of his mouth, “I’m a lightweight too. I’ll make sure you have enough to have fun but not enough to get crazy. It’ll be a good time, just let me know when.”
She exhaled, relieved again. He was really good, intentionally or unintentionally, at calming her down. “Thanks, TJ. And any night, really. I garden in the day and...my evenings tend to be mostly for crafts and writing. So—soon?”
“Soon,” TJ promised, and walked with her the short way back to the entrance. “The signal is a wolf’s howl. You can either do it when I’m within a twenty foot radius or text it to me, and I’ll know.” It was only a joke though, given away by his inevitable laughter. “We’ll talk soon. Thanks again for the eye pillow! I’m going to sleep like a dead brick tonight.”