[ Jaime doesn't realize what's going through Ruka's mind while he's busy rambling - despite his talking ostensibly being for her benefit, he's a little too focused on himself and his own fretting and worrying. This isn't like what Ruka had done for him, arranging a trip to a swanky rooftop bar to an exotic place none of them had ever been in, in an unreasonably fancy hotel, heck, even making sure he had custom clothes for the occasion. He'd hoped that she'd be pleased, touched, maybe a little surprised that they get to spend some quiet time away, but that's it.
All of the trappings of what he's put together aren't so special. This is the sort of thing that his Dad would set up for his Mom on her birthday after a long shift. She'd shrug off her coat and toe off her shoes, massaging at her sore feet as she hopped forward on one foot to step into where Jaime's Dad, Jaime, and Milagro would be waiting, a pleased if not beleagured smile on her face. He's grown up around this, all his life. It's something he'd gotten before in return, only without the flowers. It's not special. It's ordinary. But Jaime's always liked ordinary, and anything else he could think up just seemed too artificial. This is him, store-bought cake and dollar-store banner and all. This is the type of life he wants to lead. Honestly, he expects her to laugh. Not at him, but that laughter you get when you're pleased but unsurprised, a sound of contentment more than anything else.
And then she turns around and acts like he'd given her the world on a silver platter. He stumbles a little as she turns back to him, legs stiff and feet fuzzy after so long spent at a high speed - longer than it usually takes; it's a trip that generally takes him moments, but he didn't dare move that quickly with Ruka in tow, even with the forcefield around them - taken completely off-guard by her reaction. All this, for some flowers? Some cake? A banner he'd picked up from the store? The trip over was the special part, not all this. But despite his pleased confusion, his hands find their place on the small of her back as he kisses her back, never one to look a gift horse in the mouth. ]
I mean -- yeah, of course! [ He says, brow a little creased, mouth curled up at the corners. ] Of course it is. You deserve a nice birthday.
[ And that's exactly what she deserves. Not everything has to be the highest of highs, the lowest of lows. Sometimes things can just be nice. Reliable. A glimpse into the world as it should be - or, rather, Ruka's glimpse into the world as it should be as Jaime sees it. ]
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All of the trappings of what he's put together aren't so special. This is the sort of thing that his Dad would set up for his Mom on her birthday after a long shift. She'd shrug off her coat and toe off her shoes, massaging at her sore feet as she hopped forward on one foot to step into where Jaime's Dad, Jaime, and Milagro would be waiting, a pleased if not beleagured smile on her face. He's grown up around this, all his life. It's something he'd gotten before in return, only without the flowers. It's not special. It's ordinary. But Jaime's always liked ordinary, and anything else he could think up just seemed too artificial. This is him, store-bought cake and dollar-store banner and all. This is the type of life he wants to lead. Honestly, he expects her to laugh. Not at him, but that laughter you get when you're pleased but unsurprised, a sound of contentment more than anything else.
And then she turns around and acts like he'd given her the world on a silver platter. He stumbles a little as she turns back to him, legs stiff and feet fuzzy after so long spent at a high speed - longer than it usually takes; it's a trip that generally takes him moments, but he didn't dare move that quickly with Ruka in tow, even with the forcefield around them - taken completely off-guard by her reaction. All this, for some flowers? Some cake? A banner he'd picked up from the store? The trip over was the special part, not all this. But despite his pleased confusion, his hands find their place on the small of her back as he kisses her back, never one to look a gift horse in the mouth. ]
I mean -- yeah, of course! [ He says, brow a little creased, mouth curled up at the corners. ] Of course it is. You deserve a nice birthday.
[ And that's exactly what she deserves. Not everything has to be the highest of highs, the lowest of lows. Sometimes things can just be nice. Reliable. A glimpse into the world as it should be - or, rather, Ruka's glimpse into the world as it should be as Jaime sees it. ]