withmeinparadise

withmeinparadise

Code once I'm not on a phone

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From:

evocation

[Clearly, the very logical rule is that Kyna can whine, but Sam can't ask. Super fair. She's about to say something stupid, like that Lance ate all of her ice cream, but then as she pulls her hand back her skin brushes against his, triggering the empathy bond.

Her apparent chill is really just a thin veneer over what she's actually feeling, and she knows it, just like she knows poor Sam is going to get a flood of it. It's frustration and anger and hurt, tangled up with guilt and a hint of self-loathing. She hates the idea of talking about what's bothering her, hates the idea of dealing with it even more, and there's a part of her that knows she's just diving into her old self-destructive bullshit, but it just feels so much easier right now.

Then all that is drowned out by a wave of panic and embarrassment as she yanks her hand back and pulls away, far too quickly. It's a total overreaction, and likely seems like even more of an overreaction considering her approach to the empathy bond before. But it doesn't matter—she's shoved herself to the other end of the couch, back pressed into the arm, hands up to scrub over her face.]

Jesus Christ. Sorry. Fuck.

From:

withmeinparadise

[ Holy shit--no wonder she's in such a fucking mood. Sam sucks a breath in at the jolt of it, a spun-up mess of feeling completely shitty about herself and being pissed off that she feels so shitty. All she would've gotten in return is faint curiosity, concern, and a tiny edge of hunger that means wonder if there's anything in the fridge. (And, you know, the usual cocktail of Jesus, Kyna's gorgeous. Just ignore it, he's trying to.) By the time he's processed any of it, she's cringing away from him, trying to get as far out of reach as she can. ]

Hey--hey, it's okay.

[ His hands are up, the universal signal for I ain't gonna hurt you. Some old, long-unused part of him knows she needs to calm down; it just doesn't remember, that piece of him that used to soothe his little brother in stormier moments, exactly how to do it. ]

We don't gotta talk about anything, y'know, we can just... [ A shrug. You know. Hang out. ]

From:

evocation

[That calming down part is the key, because Kyna's already spiraling a little, hands still over her face as she lets out a frustrated groan.]

God, I'm such an idiot. I shouldn't have even come over here and bothered you.

From:

withmeinparadise

Nah, here's good. Here's, uh--

[ Shit. He racks his brain, trying to come up with a solution besides telling her to calm down--that never works with people. You just gotta find a way to get people to chill out without actually remind them that that's what they're doing.

What was working before? Drinking, talking about stupid shit, leaning on him. Only thing they can't do now is the last one, and...he snaps his fingers. ]

Stay right there. I got an idea.

[ And as long as she doesn't run off in the time it takes him to go to his room and back, everything'll be fine. He gets up and pads back to it, pulling the flat sheet from his bed. It's...well, it's not dirty by any means, just maybe not fresh from the dryer.

When he gets back, he holds it out: a queen-sized bedsheet balled up in his hands, light grey and thin enough that it won't get hot. ]

So you don't catch my skin. I mean, unless you wanna.

From:

evocation

[He's gone before she can react and she has no idea what he's doing. By the time he comes back, she's pulled her hands away from her face, knees tucked up against her chest. She blinks stupidly when he holds out the sheet, and it's only when he explains that it clicks.]

Oh.

[It's... maybe a little silly, but also sweet. More importantly, it does ease her tension, at least a bit. She takes the sheet and wraps it around her shoulders, voice softening.]

Thanks.

From:

withmeinparadise

[ Hey, if it helps, it helps. He sits back on his side of the couch, reaches over for the tequila, and pours a shot's worth into his glass. She doesn't want to talk about shit, so they'll just pretend things are normal. And he won't ask about her roommate situation. Or...anything else that hasn't already proved reasonably safe.

Which doesn't leave a lot of options. ]

You a big tequila fan?

From:

evocation

[He gets a wavering little smile as she pulls the sheet around herself more tightly. It's obvious what he's doing, and she appreciates it.]

Um... I guess? What counts as a big tequila fan?

From:

withmeinparadise

I dunno. If you could drink anything in the world, wouldja still pick it?

[ He takes a sip of his, a little watery from the melting ice and still with the faint taste of grapefruit to it, and sits back so she could inch back over if she wanted. Not that any of this is on purpose. He's obviously being very subtle. ]

From:

evocation

I'm kind of a sucker for those bullshit fruity drinks.

[And, subtle or not, she's scooting a little closer to press her shoulder into his again. It's not quite as relaxed, but it's something.]

What about you? Are you a fancy wine guy?

From:

withmeinparadise

[ She'll be able to feel his body shake a little with a laugh. ]

I look like a fancy wine guy to you?

From:

evocation

[The laugh relaxes her even more, and her lips quirk up.]

What, you don't clean up nice?

From:

withmeinparadise

Visit me at work sometime, I clean up okay.

[ You can still see all his trashiest tattoos, but whatever, it's fine. ]

Used to drink a lotta stuff I don't see around here much. So these days? Rum, mostly. Or beer.

From:

evocation

That's kind of pirate-y. And you mean visit you at the casino?

From:

withmeinparadise

Maybe I'm kinda pirate-y.

[ Please tell him he seems like The Only Truly Free People In History. ]

Yeah. Sometimes I bartend, sometimes I'm on the floor. Jack of all trades.

From:

evocation

Do I have to dress up? And do I get free drinks?

From:

withmeinparadise

S'pretty fancy. You'll probably wanna put on something nice.

[ What about the drinks, Sam? He's trying to see how long he can string that out. ]

From:

evocation

How fancy are we talking? Am I gonna have to buy a gown for you?

From:

withmeinparadise

Nah, they already got me in three-fourths of a tuxedo.

From:

evocation

[Her head tilts, nose wrinkling.]

What fourth are you missing? The pants?

From:

withmeinparadise

[ He laughs. ]

The coat. It's a casino, not Chippendales.

From:

evocation

Lame. What's the point, then?

From:

withmeinparadise

Hey, if you wanna see me without pants that bad, I can arrange that.

From:

evocation

[Kyna's in the middle of taking another swig when he says that, and she's lucky she just swallowed, because she bursts out laughing and nearly chokes.]

Oh my God. Do I still get free drinks? Or is your ass its own reward?