There's a moment of almost painful awkwardness when she pulls away. Part of him wants to do something at least vaguely comforting, but he knows that wouldn't go over well. So he figures the best thing to do is to give her some space so she can keep her dignity or something. "I uh, I gotta take a piss before we go."
He let's her have some privacy while he deals with the consequences of downing a few beers.
"Go, then," she says, not turning towards him. She's busy with this nose-blowing business.
While he's gone she throws the tissue away and washes her hands. Then she stays hovering near the door, considering the consequences of what she'd done and how the future would look now.
When she hears the toilet flush and he returns, she finally turns to face him.
He splashes some cold water on his face, hoping to reduce the 'close to tears' look on his face. Fuck, he hopes he's doing the right thing. He wants it to be the right thing. But is it because of stubbornness or love? He dries himself off and takes a deep breath before stepping out.
"I'm not drunk." He can't help but scowl at the suggestion. Okay sure, he had a couple, but he's not a damn featherweight. "Besides, I'll still have to drive back. So what's the point?"
He's either drunk or close to tears. Or both. Judging from the redness on his face and around his eyes.
"Leonard," she says, approaching him. What she's going to do or say when she gets there, she's unsure, but she reaches him a moment later and has to decide.
Normally she'd pick a fight about how he's clearly drunk, but she's not really very sure that's what it is. Her hands go to his face, and she cups his cheeks, the smooths her fingers back through his hair.
What she means to say, she can't say. She wraps her arms the rest of the way around his shoulders and sighs. Her lips move a little bit, unconsciously signalling that she does have something on her mind.
He can probably guess what, too.
"Oh," she mutters, and leans in to press her forehead against his. He's not going to want a kiss, she figures, so she doesn't really signal that that's what she desires now. He's taller than her, so if he rejects this overture, she's going to look pretty stupid. But maybe he won't.
He's fully expecting a fight and steels himself for it. But when it doesn't happen, it catches him completely off guard. Instead he's left blinking numbly for a moment as it sinks in and his face softens.
When she holds him the tension in his body finally relaxes. A wave of relief washes over him with her gesture and he lets her rest her forehead on his. It's exactly the sort of reassurance that he needed.
"It's fine... I'm fine." He takes a shaky breath. "It's just been... a lot. You know?"
"I know you will." He nods faintly against her, not wanting to break contact. He believes her... at least to try. And honestly, for now it's enough. But he's coming down from a lot of very intense emotions, stress and just enough alcohol to bring it all to a head.
He takes a couple of deep breaths before speaking again. He doesn't mean to be emotionally brittle like this and frankly if he wasn't so tired he'd find it embarrassing.
"And you really are sometimes." There isn't any malice to the words. He's trying to lighten the mood in his own asshole-ish way. He rubs her arms softly to emphasize that.
She smiles faintly, and tilts her head away from his so she can bring the embrace in closer. She rests her head on his shoulder and breathes in his scent.
She does love him. She just needs to commit to him. The thing is, that's the fucking scary part.
"Yeah." He sighs and takes a second longer to try to commit the moment to memory. The softness of her hair, the warmth of her body, her scent... all the little details that will carry him through the coming months.
"I'll get my keys." He does just that, letting her go once again. It's only six months... hell, he's starting to get used to it. Almost.
He lets her lead the way, pausing to lock the door behind them.
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hexaflexagons2020-07-16 12:19 am
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He let's her have some privacy while he deals with the consequences of downing a few beers.
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While he's gone she throws the tissue away and washes her hands. Then she stays hovering near the door, considering the consequences of what she'd done and how the future would look now.
When she hears the toilet flush and he returns, she finally turns to face him.
"Do I need to drive?"
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"I'm not drunk." He can't help but scowl at the suggestion. Okay sure, he had a couple, but he's not a damn featherweight. "Besides, I'll still have to drive back. So what's the point?"
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"Leonard," she says, approaching him. What she's going to do or say when she gets there, she's unsure, but she reaches him a moment later and has to decide.
Normally she'd pick a fight about how he's clearly drunk, but she's not really very sure that's what it is. Her hands go to his face, and she cups his cheeks, the smooths her fingers back through his hair.
What she means to say, she can't say. She wraps her arms the rest of the way around his shoulders and sighs. Her lips move a little bit, unconsciously signalling that she does have something on her mind.
He can probably guess what, too.
"Oh," she mutters, and leans in to press her forehead against his. He's not going to want a kiss, she figures, so she doesn't really signal that that's what she desires now. He's taller than her, so if he rejects this overture, she's going to look pretty stupid. But maybe he won't.
no subject
When she holds him the tension in his body finally relaxes. A wave of relief washes over him with her gesture and he lets her rest her forehead on his. It's exactly the sort of reassurance that he needed.
"It's fine... I'm fine." He takes a shaky breath. "It's just been... a lot. You know?"
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She knows that's what he means. She feels him melt in against her and it softens her heart even more.
"Leonard, I..."
She smooths her fingers through his hair, in the same way as before.
"I'm going to do this. I promise you."
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He takes a couple of deep breaths before speaking again. He doesn't mean to be emotionally brittle like this and frankly if he wasn't so tired he'd find it embarrassing.
"And you really are sometimes." There isn't any malice to the words. He's trying to lighten the mood in his own asshole-ish way. He rubs her arms softly to emphasize that.
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She does love him. She just needs to commit to him. The thing is, that's the fucking scary part.
Eventually she pulls away.
"We do have to go."
Stupid cat...
"I'll get my keys." He does just that, letting her go once again. It's only six months... hell, he's starting to get used to it. Almost.
He lets her lead the way, pausing to lock the door behind them.