Some days, he misses his jacket. It was easy to hide shit in the pockets for times like this, when it's just him and Beth and there's no pressure to do anything or go anywhere. He could pull a cigarette out from behind her ear (except they're not smoking in here), or a little origami creation (except he hasn't had time to make one, not since the baby), or a fortune teller fish (moved into a drawer so Junior doesn't get one in her little fist and then in her little mouth). But he doesn't have his jacket.
Actually, he does, but it's shredded and blood-stained in the closet. He'll have to make do with the power of his smile or some shit like that. "Well, your choice. It's either this--" he holds up the poetry book "--or this." Standing, he reaches for her, tucks her hair behind her ear, and kisses her lips.
Softly.
There's an unspoken third thing: he could wrap her hand around his tie and even though it's about his first instinct he doesn't do it. No rushing Beth. When she's ready for that, she'll let him know.
"Or we could just..." He shrugs. Be there. "Whatever you want. Give you a back rub, or dress you in that green dress and take it off you again, or brush your hair or tell you stories about Mars. Watch a movie. Compare scars. Hang out, no agenda. I'm easy."
So long as he gets to be with her, he's happy. There's never been anyone like Beth in his life and, like a rare glass of vintage Titanian Silver, she's addictive as hell. He just can't do without her any more.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2006-09-29 06:01 am (UTC)Actually, he does, but it's shredded and blood-stained in the closet. He'll have to make do with the power of his smile or some shit like that. "Well, your choice. It's either this--" he holds up the poetry book "--or this." Standing, he reaches for her, tucks her hair behind her ear, and kisses her lips.
Softly.
There's an unspoken third thing: he could wrap her hand around his tie and even though it's about his first instinct he doesn't do it. No rushing Beth. When she's ready for that, she'll let him know.
"Or we could just..." He shrugs. Be there. "Whatever you want. Give you a back rub, or dress you in that green dress and take it off you again, or brush your hair or tell you stories about Mars. Watch a movie. Compare scars. Hang out, no agenda. I'm easy."
So long as he gets to be with her, he's happy. There's never been anyone like Beth in his life and, like a rare glass of vintage Titanian Silver, she's addictive as hell. He just can't do without her any more.