There was something specific she wanted to say, but now she's not sure she wants to say it. It doesn't even really make a difference one way or another. If he were her boyfriend, then it would matter. At least, this is what she tells herself.
She smiles back slightly, "How's your head?" She noticed the detail on her way in and was satisfied the two agents would do a better job this time around.
"It's alright. Healing pretty well I think," he wondered if she came all this way for small talk. Not that it was that far nor was there anything wrong with small talk. Small talk and casual conversations were both acceptable. Why was he over thinking this? He was happy enough that she was there, period, why did something feel slightly off?
He figured he'd do his host thing before he said something stupid and turned everything awkward. "You can sit down if you want. I'll hang up your coat for you." He nodded towards the hooks on the back of his door. "Do you want something to drink? Wine, coffee, beer, soda?"
"The bruises look better," she says. It's not small talk if she's genuinely interested in his injuries. They are her fault, after all. She lets him hang up her coat as she debates his drink offer. She feels like doing some hardcore drinking tonight. But she cares about him too much to let him become a drunken fuck. "Coffee is fine." At least he's not alone in feeling off.
"Yeah. My jaw isn't sore anymore either." He knows how she takes her coffee and it doesn't take long to prepare it. He, on the other hand, is drinking a glass of red wine, something not terribly expensive nor incredibly potent but it takes the edge off anyway.
He hands her the coffee and sits next to her with his wine. "So, you wanted to talk."
Before he wanders off into the kitchen, she touches his jaw, almost as if she needed to see for herself. She's definitely feeling like the world is moving around her and leaving her behind. She's just out of it tonight. She takes the coffee from him and rests the mug on her knee. She still has that damned cast on her wrist. "I did," she says, "Not about anything in particular, just that I thought we should." Which is mostly the truth.
When she touches his jaw, his heart starts hammering in his chest and doesn't slow until he's sat down and had a sip of his wine. He's not nervous nor particularly feeling shy but somewhere else entirely. Being near her is helping though. The rest of the world feels fuzzy but she's still in focus.
He pushes the coffee table a little closer with his foot, noticing her coffee balancing act. "I'm glad you're here." There's something in his eyes, something elemental and purely male that says he desires her but the words don't contain that tone. They're lighter and honest. He is glad she's there because he's missed her in his life not just his bed.
She's desperately trying to figure out how she feels about him. Almost to the point where she's trying to force it. She knows it's there. It was there before. Wasn't it? But something broke in her that night she wanted to shoot him. How close she actually came to doing it says more than she wants to listen to.
His words make her smile, but she's too dazed to know if it's genuine or something else. But she wanted to see him for more than because she wanted to talk. That much she's sure of. She misses him when he's not around. But that feeling goes away when he is around. The look in his eyes is completely lost on her and there's a distance in her own eyes. She's completely checked out tonight. "I wanted to see how you were doing," she says after taking a sip of her coffee.
It seemed odd for her to arrange a visit just to see how he's doing when plenty of times before he wanted to see her without specific reasons and she turned him down for work or something else. She seems distant, her eyes almost look empty. He moves closer to her as if physically closing the distance might bring her mental closer to him also. He searches her eyes for a moment and raises an eyebrow.
"Jen? Are you alright? You seem.. well you seem stoned, to be honest. Did you take something?"
"I'm not stoned," she answers and moves her mug to the coffee table, "I took a couple Ambien. It's nothing." Clearly nothing is wandering around through life like a zombie. She'll be unconscious soon enough.
He downs his remaining wine in a single gulp. He's not sure what happened to her to seek this drug induced state. Maybe nothing, maybe she really just wanted to sleep but in that case why is she here? The idea that she only came to him because an overpriced sleep aid made it seem like a good idea is just sad so he shrugs it off.
"Ambien." Well it's a good thing she turned down alcohol. He stands up and reaches for her hand. He wants badly to kiss to her or yell at her or something, anything, but he's too much of good guy tonight. "I think if you lie down you'd be out in seconds. Why don't you just stay here tonight? I'll be good, I promise. Oh and hey, I just put on new clean sheets today. Win-win"
And he didn't think she should drive but he wasn't about to say that.
She looks at her coffee mug, then back over at him. When he stands and reaches for her hand, she lets him, but she doesn't get to her feet with him. She only partially hears what he says about sleeping there for the night. Instead, she looks up at him and blurts out what she really came over to say, "I've been seeing someone. It's just sex." Why does she feel like he needs to know?
He's working to keep his voice steady but his face reveals everything. His eyes widen like he was unexpectedly hit in a game of dodge ball. It feels like a hot poker in his side. He could deal with Agent Gibbs but some faceless guy just to give her a release... well she did say that was what she wanted. Obviously she felt guilty but it wasn't like they were together. No, that wasn't what hurt. What hurt was that he had thought they had started to reconnect the other night when he slept in her bed and she kissed him but he must have been wrong. Clearly he was wrong even. She was making it pretty clear that it hadn't meant anything to her.
He swallows, that swallow that's always been his tell. "Why are you here then? Why are you telling me this? Why aren't you with him?"
"You should leave." He picks up the empty glasses and brings them to the kitchen. On the way back he shakes his head. "But you can't drive like you are. Stay here tonight, alright?"
This time she stands. "I told you because I thought you should know. Out of respect." And that's all she has to say before she moves around the table towards the door. She pulls her coat down and adds, "I have no obligation to him." She wonders why he doesn't get that she's really struggling, not just with how she feels about him, but with everything. Maybe because she keeps pushing everyone away. Like she's doing now, shrugging on her coat. She's not stupid enough to stay where she's not welcome.
"Or maybe out of guilt," He was angry but he scurried after her anyway, pulling her coat off her shoulders. Good or bad, she'd have to do worse before she stopped being welcome in Clarke's apartment or in his life. "No, wait. Stay."
He had pulled her coat so it hung off her elbows. Not only didn't he want her to drive in the half-insulted, half drug addled state she was in. Even more, he couldn't leave things this way. He wanted to hit something but instead he pressed a searing kiss to her shoulder and another to her neck. "Please stay."
She's not with it enough to fight him much and he easily gets her coat the rest of the way off. She turns around, looking up at him, "Is guilt so bad? Shouldn't I feel guilty?" She makes no movements to try to get her coat back from him or move away from him. But after a moment, she looks down, away. And if she lets her eyes close, she might actually fall asleep standing there. "I just want to go to sleep with you," she says softly. She's so tired.
Her voice makes her seem small. He almost wants to call her a cab and tell her to go sleep with her new lover but what's the point? She's here with him, that's got to mean something. Plus, the idea of sleeping with her in his arms is so appealing he can't let it go.
He sits her down on his lap and takes off her shoes and her pants. He's so gentle. He's not being seductive, just trying to help her be comfortable. He folds everything up neatly with her coat. "He then strips to his own boxers, scoops her up in his arms and carries her to his bed, one arm under her knees, the other around her shoulders. When they're in bed he covers her up and kisses her softly.
She smiles back slightly, "How's your head?" She noticed the detail on her way in and was satisfied the two agents would do a better job this time around.
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He figured he'd do his host thing before he said something stupid and turned everything awkward. "You can sit down if you want. I'll hang up your coat for you." He nodded towards the hooks on the back of his door. "Do you want something to drink? Wine, coffee, beer, soda?"
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He hands her the coffee and sits next to her with his wine. "So, you wanted to talk."
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He pushes the coffee table a little closer with his foot, noticing her coffee balancing act. "I'm glad you're here." There's something in his eyes, something elemental and purely male that says he desires her but the words don't contain that tone. They're lighter and honest. He is glad she's there because he's missed her in his life not just his bed.
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His words make her smile, but she's too dazed to know if it's genuine or something else. But she wanted to see him for more than because she wanted to talk. That much she's sure of. She misses him when he's not around. But that feeling goes away when he is around. The look in his eyes is completely lost on her and there's a distance in her own eyes. She's completely checked out tonight. "I wanted to see how you were doing," she says after taking a sip of her coffee.
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It seemed odd for her to arrange a visit just to see how he's doing when plenty of times before he wanted to see her without specific reasons and she turned him down for work or something else. She seems distant, her eyes almost look empty. He moves closer to her as if physically closing the distance might bring her mental closer to him also. He searches her eyes for a moment and raises an eyebrow.
"Jen? Are you alright? You seem.. well you seem stoned, to be honest. Did you take something?"
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"Ambien." Well it's a good thing she turned down alcohol. He stands up and reaches for her hand. He wants badly to kiss to her or yell at her or something, anything, but he's too much of good guy tonight. "I think if you lie down you'd be out in seconds. Why don't you just stay here tonight? I'll be good, I promise. Oh and hey, I just put on new clean sheets today. Win-win"
And he didn't think she should drive but he wasn't about to say that.
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He's working to keep his voice steady but his face reveals everything. His eyes widen like he was unexpectedly hit in a game of dodge ball. It feels like a hot poker in his side. He could deal with Agent Gibbs but some faceless guy just to give her a release... well she did say that was what she wanted. Obviously she felt guilty but it wasn't like they were together. No, that wasn't what hurt. What hurt was that he had thought they had started to reconnect the other night when he slept in her bed and she kissed him but he must have been wrong. Clearly he was wrong even. She was making it pretty clear that it hadn't meant anything to her.
He swallows, that swallow that's always been his tell. "Why are you here then? Why are you telling me this? Why aren't you with him?"
"You should leave." He picks up the empty glasses and brings them to the kitchen. On the way back he shakes his head. "But you can't drive like you are. Stay here tonight, alright?"
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He had pulled her coat so it hung off her elbows. Not only didn't he want her to drive in the half-insulted, half drug addled state she was in. Even more, he couldn't leave things this way. He wanted to hit something but instead he pressed a searing kiss to her shoulder and another to her neck. "Please stay."
Reply
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He sits her down on his lap and takes off her shoes and her pants. He's so gentle. He's not being seductive, just trying to help her be comfortable. He folds everything up neatly with her coat. "He then strips to his own boxers, scoops her up in his arms and carries her to his bed, one arm under her knees, the other around her shoulders. When they're in bed he covers her up and kisses her softly.
"Are you feeling any better now?"
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