[ The more she trembles, the more sure Jaime's grasp becomes. He's always been good at being an anchor. If she's a live wire, connecting to everything and everyone around her, alight with more emotions and more desperation than she knows what to do with, then he's the cloth dampening it, stopping it in its tracks. He can't help but sweep his thumbs reassuringly across the tops of her fingers, as though trying to remind her that he's here, that there's no need to get caught up in whatever memories are threatening to sweep her away. ]
It's okay. Me and Khaji can handle it, easy. If there's anything left, we'll find it. If there isn't, then we'll know. We'll report to you straight after. [ Ruka's always offering things to him. Telling him she'll tell him what's important, sharing these tidbits of her past she doesn't offer anyone else, dragging him halfway across the globe, promising him she'll tell him how he feels. In comparison to all of that, what's a little danger? It's nothing. It's what people like him are for. ]
Or you can stay on the phone with us when we go. Whatever works.
[ It's a little like a pendulum in sand. Her heart resists the motion of it, but not by much, and the steady, even rhythm of it carves a soft line in the uncertain landscape. Easy, easy. As he speaks, the tightness of her grip eases back; the race of her pulse eases back; the strain and the horror sink back into darkness, where they belong. She exhales, and some of the fear goes with it. ]
Later? Not tonight. [ She doesn't want him to go. ] ... It's a holiday. I don't want to risk it.
[ It's an excuse, flimsy and transparent, but she keeps his hand pinned. ]
'Course. It's Christmas. That's the sort of holiday you're supposed to spend with other people.
[ Important people - but she knows she's important to him already, and she doesn't need to know how much. He can see through her excuses and how much talking about everything she's brought up today, the horrors of her past and worse, the imagined horrors of her future, had rattled her. He's not about to make her say it herself. ]
So if I'm not gonna go on a mission to check it out... then I wanna stay here for a little longer. Deal?
Deal. [ It should be sharp, for how quickly it's spoken, but the word is made soft by her volume. She doesn't smile for it, but the tension at her eye seems to lessen. She takes a breath, and releases it, and finally lets go of his hand.
She picks up her tea for something to do, hands folding together around the cup; she shifts on the couch, crossing her legs. She doesn't want to talk about this anymore. ]
[ It takes Jaime a moment to slide his hand back into his lap. It's funny - he reached out, initiated that moment of connection for her sake, so she had something stable to hold onto, but instead, his hand feels a little cold. It had to happen. They should probably eat some of the quickly cooling food in front of them, and it's not like normal friends go around holding hands.
Still. Context aside, it'd been nice. He fiddles a little with his chopsticks while he speaks. It feels a little stupid, a little small to talk about something as inconsequential as family traditions now of all times, but that's a lot better than continuing on their current path. And... well, he misses it. Christmas, the way he used to do it. Sometimes it feels nice to talk about it out loud, as though getting it out there makes everything his life used to be more real. ]
We're Catholic, so we go to Church - but I did that last night. Most of our celebrations are on Christmas Eve, actually. But we do presents, and big feasts with the family; my mom always has a tamale party around that time. Sometimes family comes and travels to us, but when I was little, we went to visit my Mom's family in Mexico.
[ That got harder when they got older. They didn't have as much time off from school, and they wanted to spend some time with their friends, and the more they grew up, the tighter money got. It was easier for his relatives to come to America instead, some years. ]
It's nice. It's always been my favourite holiday. [ He looks at her, lip quirking a little. ] Friends, food, family... can't get much better than that.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ The more she trembles, the more sure Jaime's grasp becomes. He's always been good at being an anchor. If she's a live wire, connecting to everything and everyone around her, alight with more emotions and more desperation than she knows what to do with, then he's the cloth dampening it, stopping it in its tracks. He can't help but sweep his thumbs reassuringly across the tops of her fingers, as though trying to remind her that he's here, that there's no need to get caught up in whatever memories are threatening to sweep her away. ]
It's okay. Me and Khaji can handle it, easy. If there's anything left, we'll find it. If there isn't, then we'll know. We'll report to you straight after. [ Ruka's always offering things to him. Telling him she'll tell him what's important, sharing these tidbits of her past she doesn't offer anyone else, dragging him halfway across the globe, promising him she'll tell him how he feels. In comparison to all of that, what's a little danger? It's nothing. It's what people like him are for. ]
Or you can stay on the phone with us when we go. Whatever works.
no subject
Later? Not tonight. [ She doesn't want him to go. ] ... It's a holiday. I don't want to risk it.
[ It's an excuse, flimsy and transparent, but she keeps his hand pinned. ]
no subject
[ Important people - but she knows she's important to him already, and she doesn't need to know how much. He can see through her excuses and how much talking about everything she's brought up today, the horrors of her past and worse, the imagined horrors of her future, had rattled her. He's not about to make her say it herself. ]
So if I'm not gonna go on a mission to check it out... then I wanna stay here for a little longer. Deal?
no subject
She picks up her tea for something to do, hands folding together around the cup; she shifts on the couch, crossing her legs. She doesn't want to talk about this anymore. ]
How does your family celebrate it?
no subject
[ It takes Jaime a moment to slide his hand back into his lap. It's funny - he reached out, initiated that moment of connection for her sake, so she had something stable to hold onto, but instead, his hand feels a little cold. It had to happen. They should probably eat some of the quickly cooling food in front of them, and it's not like normal friends go around holding hands.
Still. Context aside, it'd been nice. He fiddles a little with his chopsticks while he speaks. It feels a little stupid, a little small to talk about something as inconsequential as family traditions now of all times, but that's a lot better than continuing on their current path. And... well, he misses it. Christmas, the way he used to do it. Sometimes it feels nice to talk about it out loud, as though getting it out there makes everything his life used to be more real. ]
We're Catholic, so we go to Church - but I did that last night. Most of our celebrations are on Christmas Eve, actually. But we do presents, and big feasts with the family; my mom always has a tamale party around that time. Sometimes family comes and travels to us, but when I was little, we went to visit my Mom's family in Mexico.
[ That got harder when they got older. They didn't have as much time off from school, and they wanted to spend some time with their friends, and the more they grew up, the tighter money got. It was easier for his relatives to come to America instead, some years. ]
It's nice. It's always been my favourite holiday. [ He looks at her, lip quirking a little. ] Friends, food, family... can't get much better than that.