donkeyballs | Reverie: IC Inbox

[ This was a bad god damned idea, Kamal. He looked around, but he was just in the middle of a hallway, sitting on the floor like an asshole. God damn it. ]

I'm headin' for the observation deck.

Figured if I had to listen to this god damn music I could at least pretend the stars were singin' it.

i'm in. see you in five.

[ He sighed, staring down at the comm on his wrist for several more seconds, before slowly pulling himself up. Don't Stop Believing started for the 8 millionth time and he sighed even harder. He dragged himself up on the floor - knocked his head against the bulkhead two times completely on purpose, just to kick himself, and then started up towards the Observation deck. He got there before she did, and found a place to sit, slumping down into it as if the gravity was four times as strong as it actually was. ]

[Bobbie finds him easily enough, and she's not entirely surprised to see him practically collapsed. She can't blame him, but that doesn't mean she's not worried. She sits down beside him, nudging her shoulder into his as she does.]

Earthers have shitty taste in music.

[ It's ridiculous, the way that her shoulder brushing his makes a weird sort of energy run right up his spine. If he didn't know better he'd say he felt high, with the way that his emotions were just all over the place. He bumps her back, though, a gentle elbow against hers. ]

They made some decent country, back in the day, but this ain't that, that's for sure. Some of it reminds me of Belter music, though. That one Highway to Hell song - swear I've heard it in a bar on Tycho before, but in Belter.

[She feels a rush of overwhelming fondness that catches her off guard, and she can't help but grin.]

You know you're a Mariner Valley stereotype, don't you?

[ He felt the heat rise to his face at the exact same time that the answering grin did. He couldn't help it. ]

And proud of.

[Bobbie laughs, bumping her shoulder into his more firmly this time.]

At this point, I'd take your music playing on loop just for a change of pace.

[ It was stupid, how pleased he felt, from that joke and that simple bump, enough that it made his heart skip a beat. Damn. Damn, damn, damn, he was neck fuckin' deep, wasn't he? ]

You'd learn to love it, I bet. [ He grinned. ] Or, hell, at this rate, maybe I'd learn to hate it. They could be playin' my favourite damn song and I'd probably still want to shove forks in my ears. [ He says that, and yet he ... looks way too happy, at the moment. So sue him. ]

Probably be easier to do the two-step to, though.

[Which maybe means she didn't mind that so much.]

[ The piercing fondness was so deep it hurt and he just smiled at her for a second before his hand reached out, entirely of its own volition, to find hers and give it a warm squeeze. ]

... Thanks, Gunny. Sorry that I'm a bit of an idjit.

[She tangles her fingers with his automatically, squeezing back. Maybe it's just that her emotions are all over the place, but there's a pleasant fluttering in her chest that she can't place. She's not sure how well she'd be handling all this without him here.]

It's okay. I'll put it down to sleep deprivation and shitty music this time.

[ The warmth spread through him instantly, and he suddenly had to start reminding himself that no matter what it felt like, the affection wasn't intended the way that his body so clearly wanted to read it. What he so clearly wanted it to be. She'd somehow ended up as his anchor, while he was here. His best and closest friend, sliding into his little family with an ease that leaned upon the fated. Which, he supposed, it kind of was - if they were friends in a future he didn't even remember. It was something literally fated, for him.

But they were friends. That was the important part. Good friends, best friends, and he knew he'd do anything in the universe for her, even just on that level. Had a pretty good feeling she'd do the same. But that was the level it was on. She'd never given any hint or indication that she felt anything more than that. No, more wasn't the word. Because even on the platonic level, she was still somehow closer to him than Talissa had ever been. Understood him better. Clicked better. Her friendship meant so much more to him than even his marriage had. The other twisted feelings he felt? They weren't more. They were just in a different direction.

The last thing in the world he wanted was to let anything ruin this.

Even his own feelings.

His smile turned a little forced, and he gave her hand another squeeze, and then let go, sliding his palm onto his knee instead and gripping it as if forcing his hands to behave. ]

It really is just about drivin' me mad. But still. I appreciate it. You holdin' up alright, otherwise?

[He pulls away, and she's surprised when she has to keep herself from reaching for his hand again. She's not touchy-feely, as a rule, but Alex upends all that. She draws more comfort and stability from being near him than she does from anyone else, even anyone back home, and she wonder when that happened. It's like it snuck up on her.

She shifts a bit, keeping her hand planted firmly on the floor between them.]

Spacing myself is sounding like a better and better bet, and if I hear that 'bye bye bye' song again, I might just do it.

[ He gives a soft snort, trying not to think about how her hand is still there where he left it, as his fingers curl into his jumpsuit on his knees. ]

If it's all the same, I'd really rather you didn't. [ He turned his head and offered a smile that was far too fond, despite himself. ] What am I 'sposed to do, if you go and do that?

[She grins back, giving him a noncommittal shrug.]

Find another marine to hang out with.

Gunny, there ain't another marine in this universe or any other like you.

[ He tried to make it sound like a joke, but it wasn't. His hand fidgetted in his jumpsuit again and then he gave up, unable to help it, as he reached out and laced their fingers together again. ]

So in the interests of keepin' me flyin', you're just gonna have to stick around.

[That gets her smile to soften, and taking his hand again is as easy as breathing. She has no idea how long it's been since she's slept, but just talking to him is making her feel content in a way no one else has managed.]

You'd be a hell of a pilot to lose. Guess you're stuck with me.

[ This is the part where you kiss her, his brain says, the voice absolutely out of nowhere. Well. Mostly out of no where. But it hadn't quite ever been so clear before. It's a hundred thousand times more clearer than anything else has been, the last few days - like the toll of a bell in the early morning - and it trips him up. He smiles at her, and there's a half second where he nearly leans in, before he forces himself to grind to a halt and turn his gaze back out to the stars.

He's in over his head and his heart won't stop racing and he needs to stop because he can't deal with the idea of losing her over this. But he doesn't pull his hand away again. (He can't.) He just squeezes it. ]

What a cryin' shame. [ He says instead, clearly joking, as his eyes track the unfamiliar constellations. As he squeezes her hand, and doesn't kiss her, despite every atom in his body screaming at him to do it. ]

[There's a slight hesitation in their conversation that she doesn't expect, and for an irrational second, she thinks he might kiss her. Then the moment passes, and it takes her a second longer to realize she's leaned in instinctively, and when he turns away she swallows, letting out a breath.

Jesus Christ. Sleep deprivation. That's all it is. She needs to get her shit together.]

...Hey, we need someone to fly us off this tub.

There's at least one other pilot on this bucket. [ He pointed out, trying to keep his focus on the conversation and not on the internal battle he was having with himself. It wasn't even a battle he wanted to fight, but where he usually could have just dismissed it, he was finding it impossible to do that, right now. Was that a symptom of sleep deprivation?

The music changed, and for the first time he actually heard the lyrics and wondered if the Station was intentionally taunting him. ]

But I'll get us off here, somehow, don't you worry. We'll find a way.

[Bobbie hums quietly in response, shoulder still pressed into his. She suddenly finds herself trying very, very hard to focus on their conversation.]

I wouldn't trust anyone else to do it.

[ He couldn't focus on the conversation either, swallowing, as one star in particular suddenly got a lot more interesting than it was before. In fact, he didn't even reply, letting the moment lapse into a companionable - if weighted - silence.

Not that anything in his head was quiet. Not that even his pulse was quiet. He swore he could hear it, rushing through his ears. But he didn't say anything.

He just kept his gaze fixated on that far, unnamed star, and held her hand.

It could have been simple, like that. It should have been. And if he'd been able to keep still, it would have been. But he couldn't, and after a few seconds he shifted - his grip in hers sliding just a little bit, so that he could brush his thumb, slowly but deliberately, over the back of her hand. It was too slow to be idle, to deliberate to be thoughtless.

It was a substitute, for the kiss he wanted and knew he couldn't take. A line past platonic that was easily deniable.

Or would have felt more deniable, if he wasn't hyper aware of the texture of her skin beneath his thumb. ]

[They lapse into silence, and Bobbie tries to get her thoughts under control. It was just instinct. A misreading of the situation, because her emotions are all over the place and she's absolutely exhausted. Hell, she's surprised she's not hallucinating. Still, she's suddenly hyperaware of their proximity, of her hand in his and their shoulders pressed together.

Bobbie closes her eyes, letting her head tip back against the wall behind them, at least until his thumb slides over the back of her hand. It doesn't feel like an idle movement, and she opens her eyes again, trying to read his expression. Maybe she's not misreading this, but that doesn't make her feel any less crazy.]

[ His gaze is still fixed on that star, even if he can feel her eyes on him. He keeps stroking the back of her hand, trying to keep his expression neutral. He wasn't very good at it. He kept holding his breath too long, the nervous energy readable. But the slow caress of his thumb kept its steady pace.

After a moment, his head turned, just a fraction, just enough so that his eyes cloud slide to hers and try to read them.

Just enough to torture himself with. ]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject