[ 'stop talking about lorna' probably doesn't mean 'stop talking at all', but that's basically what happens. mostly because marcos snapping at her to stop making assumptions feels like a slap in the face — and so daisy sits back, her gaze dropping to look down at the floor off the side of the couch.
what can she say? there's nothing to say — condolences are hollow and they both know it. it's no secret that daisy's as bitter about what lorna did as anyone else, only forgiving her the small amount necessary to work with her moving forward. it'll take more than a crisis and a shared enemy to rebridge that gap. but she can't be hopeful, either, because what kind of friend allows hope to surge up in their chest when a relationship falls apart?
apparently whatever kind of friend daisy is (a shitty one) because she feels it. but she won't — can't — say that. so she says nothing. she nods her head, jerky and uncertain, and her mouth pulses in and out of a sharp line, an uncertain but accepting expression if ever there was one. ]
[ unless lorna was all she was going to talk about? that couldn't be the case though. he knows that her relationship with lorna was strained at best and nonexistent at worse. he hopes that maybe they could be civil and supportive since it appeared that lorna was back for good but it wasn't something he was going to push her towards either. ]
But you're not the first person to make the assumption that I'm just going to forget everything and go back to her. I want to make my own choices.
[ and not just be pushed back towards someone who'd nearly wrecked his life when she'd left. ]
[ she wouldn't have said anything if she'd thought he would react that way. though, in hindsight, daisy's not sure what she expected. she'd intended to be friendly, reassuring — trying to assure him that she wouldn't hold her confession against him, that she didn't expect anything of it. apparently she'd just rubbed a raw spot, upsetting him in the process. ]
I just want you to be happy. That's all.
[ whatever that means for him. no matter what kind of feelings she had, she'd always be his friend. she'd always support him in finding that happiness, the same as she always has. that was loyalty, to daisy. ]
[ he swipes a hand back through his hair and sighs. she wants him to be happy and he wants people to stop taking away his choices. stop throwing themselves in front of buses for him and saying he didn't get a choice. stop giving him the proverbial shove towards lorna. ]
I'm happy that you're okay. I'm happy that you're alive. I'm happy that I get to spend time with you alone even if you're a frustrating person.
[ he means that in the best way possible. really. ]
A frustrating person? [ daisy laughs, a huffed sound as she shakes her head, but she doesn't take offense. ] That's probably the nicest thing you've said to me all day.
[ kidding. but she understand what he means. they've had to see too many people make unbelievable staggers back to life from injuries — like john, stomach riddled with shotgun shell, and lauren, too weak to move. it's probably fair to say they could do with a bit of a break. ]
Though, [ head tilting a bit as she looks back up at him, the hint of a smile curving up the corner of her mouth. ] I like spending time with you too. Obviously.
[ he starts to say something else, circle back to the confession she'd made when caitlin strides in. she looks both rattled and shaken but pleased that daisy's at least following instructions and hasn't gotten up. caitlin shoos marcos away, tells him to go lay down and rest and after some resistance, he eventually goes, shooting daisy a parting look.
caitlin takes her time with the exam, making sure daisy's not suffering a more serious injury. and while there's no way to be sure without proper equipment, she thinks it's okay to let her get up and move. no strenuous activity and no stress for a few days. she gives her some painkillers and then sends her on her way.
eventually, day stretches into night. a light rain falls, cooling things off. john, lorna and clarice have come back and they've met in private with marcos about what they've seen. it's late but not terribly so when marcos finally gets up the nerve to find daisy's apartment.
he knocks and then curses because she's probably asleep so he starts to walk away, intending to see her tomorrow. maybe. ]
[ she isn't sleeping. she's watching cat videos in an oversized t-shirt she stole from someone back when they were still in atlanta, eating french fries she got from mcdonalds after hacking into their rewards app, trying not to make too much noise and wake anyone up.
but a knock on her door might just signal an emergency, so she opens it. sans pants and all, because if it is an emergency, it can't wait.
so suffice it to say she doesn't expect to see marcos on the other side of the door. ]
[ oh, those were...those were her legs. yeah, those were her legs peeking out from underneath a shirt that was too big for her. he swallows and tries to think about the unsexiest thing possible.
what he gets is her in a shirt in his room instead of hers. NOT HELPFUL. he blows out a breath and steps back closer since she'd opened the door and all. ]
I just came by to see how you were doing. [ you know, in your lack of pants. no no, that's not right. after her check in with caitlin. that's right.
he scratches the back of his head and sighs. ] I wanted to talk to you too.
I'm okay. [ she says it casually, like it's no big thing. and really, it's not. she's lived through worse than a bad headache. ] I've been taking it easy, I promise.
[ the most activity she's done is walking down a few flights of stairs to meet her uber eats driver in the lobby of their apartment complex. beyond that, she's been in bed. ]
We can talk, sure. [ she eyes him for a moment, the hand in his hair, but pushes aside the curiosity. not the time. ] You want to come inside, or did you want to just talk in the hallway?
[ he doesn't mean to sound foreboding but he wants to talk about what she'd said earlier and doing it in the hallway where anyone could come by seemed...a little too out in the open. ]
I won't take up too much of your time.
[ he honestly has no idea what he's going to say. he has a general idea of what he wants to express to her but the hows and whys remain a mystery. ]
[ her eyes shift a bit — ooookay — but she steps back enough to let him in all the same, shutting the door behind him. there's exactly five seconds of a beat before daisy walks back to her bed, closing the laptop with a click and settling it on the floor; once the bed's clear, she climbs in, sitting cross-legged atop the comforter.
it's probably unfortunate for marcos that she's not wearing pants, but this isn't news. daisy almost never wears pants when she doesn't have to, and being alone in her bedroom isn't usually a time when she has to. she does, at least, drop a pillow into her lap. how decent. ]
You're fine, really. I wasn't doing anything important anyway. What's up?
[ so, he was just going to jump right in, no small talk, no preamble nothing. dive right in head first and see what happens when he comes up for air. it's probably for the best to get right into the crux of things because if he doesn't, he's going to stare at her and her lack of pants, using just a pillow for a little modesty. ]
Is it going to be a problem?
[ okay. okay, he knows where he's going now. he knows what he's going to say at least after whatever she answers with. unless she goes completely into left field with her answer.
then he might have to regroup. but he'll cross that bridge when he comes to it and just stand there, arms at his sides and expression curious. ]
About — [ oh. right. she thought they were past that. she'd told him how she felt, he'd stared at her a bit and then pointed out his lack of interest (or just failed to express any at all, which daisy was perceiving as not having any), and that was that. she thought it was, anyway. ]
It's fine.
[ she's not heartbroken or anything. she didn't think he returned the sentiment, anyway. she can deal with it. she's been dealing, hasn't she? granted, not exactly always in the most healthiest of ways, but she's managed just fine. ]
Is it a problem for you? Because I can — [ something. stay somewhere else, maybe. find another apartment complex. go transfer to work at another underground location, worst case scenario. she knows baltimore needs help. ]
but, he steps forward, fingers working nervously at his sides now that he's taken this step. he stops when he's a few feet from her bed, still uncertain but committed. ]
What if that's a choice I want to make for myself?
[ no one was going to step in front of him and stop him from this, no one was going to mention lorna. this was for him. this was for his happiness. ]
[ uh. what? her brow furrows, mouth twisting in obvious confusion as her head jerks back slightly, trying to make sense of that ridiculous question. ]
You ... want it to be a problem?
[ what does that even mean? why would he want her unrequited crush on him to be a problem between them? daisy can't even connect the dots. she has no idea. ]
I mean, if it's a problem — like I said, it's fine, I can figure it out. I can go see wherever Esme's staying, if that makes you feel more comfortable? I don't have to stay here.
[ why is he getting closer???????? she does not understand. ]
[ an attempt was made. the attempt was a failure. he'd tried to go at this in what he thought might be an understandable but maybe unique way but he realizes now that he shouldn't have done that. he starts to say something but she keeps going and he's already shaking his head because no.
no no no he doesn't want her to go anywhere or go find esme. no, he needs her to be quiet! ]
No look — stop talking. Stop — I want to kiss you!
daisy does stop, to her credit. she stops dead short, eyes slowly blinking closed, her brows raising up as high as they'll go before she opens them again. that's definitely not what she was expecting him to say. not even on the top hundred things on the list. probably not even top million, if she had to guess.
she should say something back, though. probably. ]
Okay.
[ that's it. that's all he gets. just a dumbfounded okay. ]
[ not exactly the reaction he'd hoped for. maybe he hoped for something more enthusiastic? or even something a little more emotional in the other direction. this just seems...like she's going along with it because he's there. ]
It was — it was just a thought. I don't have to.
[ he was just going to stop right where he was and get no closer now. ]
Bad timing again. Okay. [ there was never good timing. he smiles and steps back, gives her space so she'd stop looking so shocked by his words and presence. ]
I don't think there's anything remotely great about the timing here.
[ but she's not unhappy about it, either. shell-shocked, mostly, but now that it's wearing off, the hint of something much more positive tugs at the corners of her mouth. ]
And, you know, the decor could use some work. It's not exactly romantic. [ they're lucky to have what they have. she still doesn't entirely know how they managed it. multiple apartments? running water, hot showers, working wifi? it's an upgrade compared to a lot of other alternatives. ]
But if you're sure that's what you want. [ be really sure, marcos. there's not a lot of going back from something like this, knowing what he does about how she feels. felt. still feels? ] Then, okay.
[ her head tilts to the side a bit, a question and a dare both in the quirk of her brow. ]
Should I — [ he points at the bed since she hasn't moved and he's not sure if he should lean over and do this or sit down or ask her to get up or what. he rubs at his forehead with the back of his hand, wondering how a simple kiss could be so complicated. ]
Or I can see about finding a more romantic venue? [ maybe sit on the hood of one of their busted cars out front and watch the stars? if you ignored the rust on the cars and the sounds of sirens in the distance, it might be pretty nice. ]
I want to. [ he does know that. ] It's the, uh, logistics of the thing that are stopping me.
[ he wants to. that's the part she chooses to focus on, to the exclusion of all the other not so helpful commentary being thrown about. he wants to, and she wants to, and that's enough for right now.
it's just extremely clear to daisy now that if she doesn't actually step up here, he's going to handwring himself into the closet and never come out — and then no one will get what they want, which would really be a waste. ]
Okay, then.
[ this is okay. this is good. reassuring and simple. or it could be, perhaps, if daisy didn't pick up the pillow that's in her lap and chuck it towards the far wall, or if she didn't pull herself up to her knees, both hands held out in his direction. ]
You can find a more romantic venue next time. [ not right now. this is fine for right now. ] Just come here and kiss me already.
[ she throws the pillow and he remember that she's not wearing pants. that's — that's definitely a thing to be reminded of. but okay, he wasn't going to think about that. not right now. he steps closer to her, no hesitation in the movement until he's within arms length.
he takes one of her hands, letting her do whatever she wanted with the other and moves until his knees hit the edge of the bed. he's still taller than her like this but not by much. with his free hand, he tips her chin back so he can lean down and, after pausing as close to her lips as he could get without kissing her, he smiles and finally eliminates the rest of the distance between them.
his lips slot against hers, gentle but firm, and he realizes then that this is the first time he's kissed someone in months. he's been close to people but not like this. it hasn't been like this with anyone in close to a year now. ]
[ daisy's not a saint. she hasn't lived in a nunnery or foregone her own more instinctive needs while she's battled with her feelings — but even still, there's a sense of awe that floods through her, an awareness that this, his mouth so warm against her own, is really happening. after so many fleeting thoughts of what ifs and could bes, it's not just imagination or daydream or late night sordid thoughts, it's real.
and so, perhaps, daisy's a little more enthusiastic than reserved in the clutch of her hand in his; she could pull away breathlessly and smile up at him, and she does, but it's quickly replaced by an eager tug of his hand, pulling him towards the bed and thus closer to her. he'll have to do the work to actually climb up, though. she's not quite that strong. ]
[ maybe she's not that strong but she's a lot stronger than she looks and soon enough he has no choice but to get one knee on the bed so he can scoot closer to her and to the fact that she wasn't wearing pants.
he'd come here with the more intention of kissing her but this was still kissing, wasn't it?climbing on her bed and sliding closer to her was still kissing her. he hadn't gotten too distracted or overwhelmed with her and how he was feeling. ]
[ it's still early. unlike evenings where daisy poses as someone else for the purposes of getting her needs met, this isn't a quick and dirty interaction. there's eagerness, but a surprising amount of patience too; though he climbs up onto the bed, she's capable of resisting a whole lot of urges that begin to pile up in her head, restraining herself enough to simply sit upright, butterfly style, her folded legs bracketing outward while his dangle off the side of the bed.
still innocent. close, but not that close. not so close she's in his lap, even if it's tempting to be. ]
You know how long I've wanted you to do that?
[ he does, in fact, because she's told him. but it still bears repeating — a reminder that this means something to her, and that part of her very much is struggling to not let hope of something far more than just a kiss bubble up in her mind. ]
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what can she say? there's nothing to say — condolences are hollow and they both know it. it's no secret that daisy's as bitter about what lorna did as anyone else, only forgiving her the small amount necessary to work with her moving forward. it'll take more than a crisis and a shared enemy to rebridge that gap. but she can't be hopeful, either, because what kind of friend allows hope to surge up in their chest when a relationship falls apart?
apparently whatever kind of friend daisy is (a shitty one) because she feels it. but she won't — can't — say that. so she says nothing. she nods her head, jerky and uncertain, and her mouth pulses in and out of a sharp line, an uncertain but accepting expression if ever there was one. ]
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[ unless lorna was all she was going to talk about? that couldn't be the case though. he knows that her relationship with lorna was strained at best and nonexistent at worse. he hopes that maybe they could be civil and supportive since it appeared that lorna was back for good but it wasn't something he was going to push her towards either. ]
But you're not the first person to make the assumption that I'm just going to forget everything and go back to her. I want to make my own choices.
[ and not just be pushed back towards someone who'd nearly wrecked his life when she'd left. ]
And she's not who I choose.
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[ she wouldn't have said anything if she'd thought he would react that way. though, in hindsight, daisy's not sure what she expected. she'd intended to be friendly, reassuring — trying to assure him that she wouldn't hold her confession against him, that she didn't expect anything of it. apparently she'd just rubbed a raw spot, upsetting him in the process. ]
I just want you to be happy. That's all.
[ whatever that means for him. no matter what kind of feelings she had, she'd always be his friend. she'd always support him in finding that happiness, the same as she always has. that was loyalty, to daisy. ]
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[ he swipes a hand back through his hair and sighs. she wants him to be happy and he wants people to stop taking away his choices. stop throwing themselves in front of buses for him and saying he didn't get a choice. stop giving him the proverbial shove towards lorna. ]
I'm happy that you're okay. I'm happy that you're alive. I'm happy that I get to spend time with you alone even if you're a frustrating person.
[ he means that in the best way possible. really. ]
Trust me.
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[ kidding. but she understand what he means. they've had to see too many people make unbelievable staggers back to life from injuries — like john, stomach riddled with shotgun shell, and lauren, too weak to move. it's probably fair to say they could do with a bit of a break. ]
Though, [ head tilting a bit as she looks back up at him, the hint of a smile curving up the corner of her mouth. ] I like spending time with you too. Obviously.
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[ he starts to say something else, circle back to the confession she'd made when caitlin strides in. she looks both rattled and shaken but pleased that daisy's at least following instructions and hasn't gotten up. caitlin shoos marcos away, tells him to go lay down and rest and after some resistance, he eventually goes, shooting daisy a parting look.
caitlin takes her time with the exam, making sure daisy's not suffering a more serious injury. and while there's no way to be sure without proper equipment, she thinks it's okay to let her get up and move. no strenuous activity and no stress for a few days. she gives her some painkillers and then sends her on her way.
eventually, day stretches into night. a light rain falls, cooling things off. john, lorna and clarice have come back and they've met in private with marcos about what they've seen. it's late but not terribly so when marcos finally gets up the nerve to find daisy's apartment.
he knocks and then curses because she's probably asleep so he starts to walk away, intending to see her tomorrow. maybe. ]
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but a knock on her door might just signal an emergency, so she opens it. sans pants and all, because if it is an emergency, it can't wait.
so suffice it to say she doesn't expect to see marcos on the other side of the door. ]
Um. [ jesus. ] Hey.
[ hey? yeah, just hey. that's all she's got. ]
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what he gets is her in a shirt in his room instead of hers. NOT HELPFUL. he blows out a breath and steps back closer since she'd opened the door and all. ]
I just came by to see how you were doing. [ you know, in your lack of pants. no no, that's not right. after her check in with caitlin. that's right.
he scratches the back of his head and sighs. ] I wanted to talk to you too.
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[ the most activity she's done is walking down a few flights of stairs to meet her uber eats driver in the lobby of their apartment complex. beyond that, she's been in bed. ]
We can talk, sure. [ she eyes him for a moment, the hand in his hair, but pushes aside the curiosity. not the time. ] You want to come inside, or did you want to just talk in the hallway?
[ maybe it's a short conversation??? ]
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[ he doesn't mean to sound foreboding but he wants to talk about what she'd said earlier and doing it in the hallway where anyone could come by seemed...a little too out in the open. ]
I won't take up too much of your time.
[ he honestly has no idea what he's going to say. he has a general idea of what he wants to express to her but the hows and whys remain a mystery. ]
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it's probably unfortunate for marcos that she's not wearing pants, but this isn't news. daisy almost never wears pants when she doesn't have to, and being alone in her bedroom isn't usually a time when she has to. she does, at least, drop a pillow into her lap. how decent. ]
You're fine, really. I wasn't doing anything important anyway. What's up?
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[ so, he was just going to jump right in, no small talk, no preamble nothing. dive right in head first and see what happens when he comes up for air. it's probably for the best to get right into the crux of things because if he doesn't, he's going to stare at her and her lack of pants, using just a pillow for a little modesty. ]
Is it going to be a problem?
[ okay. okay, he knows where he's going now. he knows what he's going to say at least after whatever she answers with. unless she goes completely into left field with her answer.
then he might have to regroup. but he'll cross that bridge when he comes to it and just stand there, arms at his sides and expression curious. ]
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It's fine.
[ she's not heartbroken or anything. she didn't think he returned the sentiment, anyway. she can deal with it. she's been dealing, hasn't she? granted, not exactly always in the most healthiest of ways, but she's managed just fine. ]
Is it a problem for you? Because I can — [ something. stay somewhere else, maybe. find another apartment complex. go transfer to work at another underground location, worst case scenario. she knows baltimore needs help. ]
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[ #smooth.
but, he steps forward, fingers working nervously at his sides now that he's taken this step. he stops when he's a few feet from her bed, still uncertain but committed. ]
What if that's a choice I want to make for myself?
[ no one was going to step in front of him and stop him from this, no one was going to mention lorna. this was for him. this was for his happiness. ]
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You ... want it to be a problem?
[ what does that even mean? why would he want her unrequited crush on him to be a problem between them? daisy can't even connect the dots. she has no idea. ]
I mean, if it's a problem — like I said, it's fine, I can figure it out. I can go see wherever Esme's staying, if that makes you feel more comfortable? I don't have to stay here.
[ why is he getting closer???????? she does not understand. ]
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[ an attempt was made. the attempt was a failure. he'd tried to go at this in what he thought might be an understandable but maybe unique way but he realizes now that he shouldn't have done that. he starts to say something but she keeps going and he's already shaking his head because no.
no no no he doesn't want her to go anywhere or go find esme. no, he needs her to be quiet! ]
No look — stop talking. Stop — I want to kiss you!
[ would that work? was it blunt enough? ]
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daisy does stop, to her credit. she stops dead short, eyes slowly blinking closed, her brows raising up as high as they'll go before she opens them again. that's definitely not what she was expecting him to say. not even on the top hundred things on the list. probably not even top million, if she had to guess.
she should say something back, though. probably. ]
Okay.
[ that's it. that's all he gets. just a dumbfounded okay. ]
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It was — it was just a thought. I don't have to.
[ he was just going to stop right where he was and get no closer now. ]
Bad timing again. Okay. [ there was never good timing. he smiles and steps back, gives her space so she'd stop looking so shocked by his words and presence. ]
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[ but she's not unhappy about it, either. shell-shocked, mostly, but now that it's wearing off, the hint of something much more positive tugs at the corners of her mouth. ]
And, you know, the decor could use some work. It's not exactly romantic. [ they're lucky to have what they have. she still doesn't entirely know how they managed it. multiple apartments? running water, hot showers, working wifi? it's an upgrade compared to a lot of other alternatives. ]
But if you're sure that's what you want. [ be really sure, marcos. there's not a lot of going back from something like this, knowing what he does about how she feels. felt. still feels? ] Then, okay.
[ her head tilts to the side a bit, a question and a dare both in the quirk of her brow. ]
You already know what I want.
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Or I can see about finding a more romantic venue? [ maybe sit on the hood of one of their busted cars out front and watch the stars? if you ignored the rust on the cars and the sounds of sirens in the distance, it might be pretty nice. ]
I want to. [ he does know that. ] It's the, uh, logistics of the thing that are stopping me.
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it's just extremely clear to daisy now that if she doesn't actually step up here, he's going to handwring himself into the closet and never come out — and then no one will get what they want, which would really be a waste. ]
Okay, then.
[ this is okay. this is good. reassuring and simple. or it could be, perhaps, if daisy didn't pick up the pillow that's in her lap and chuck it towards the far wall, or if she didn't pull herself up to her knees, both hands held out in his direction. ]
You can find a more romantic venue next time. [ not right now. this is fine for right now. ] Just come here and kiss me already.
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he takes one of her hands, letting her do whatever she wanted with the other and moves until his knees hit the edge of the bed. he's still taller than her like this but not by much. with his free hand, he tips her chin back so he can lean down and, after pausing as close to her lips as he could get without kissing her, he smiles and finally eliminates the rest of the distance between them.
his lips slot against hers, gentle but firm, and he realizes then that this is the first time he's kissed someone in months. he's been close to people but not like this. it hasn't been like this with anyone in close to a year now. ]
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and so, perhaps, daisy's a little more enthusiastic than reserved in the clutch of her hand in his; she could pull away breathlessly and smile up at him, and she does, but it's quickly replaced by an eager tug of his hand, pulling him towards the bed and thus closer to her. he'll have to do the work to actually climb up, though. she's not quite that strong. ]
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he'd come here with the more intention of kissing her but this was still kissing, wasn't it?climbing on her bed and sliding closer to her was still kissing her. he hadn't gotten too distracted or overwhelmed with her and how he was feeling. ]
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still innocent. close, but not that close. not so close she's in his lap, even if it's tempting to be. ]
You know how long I've wanted you to do that?
[ he does, in fact, because she's told him. but it still bears repeating — a reminder that this means something to her, and that part of her very much is struggling to not let hope of something far more than just a kiss bubble up in her mind. ]
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