I've been mired in my journals and my notes and my books because on this day, of all days, this is the time to reflect and to think. I almost trip on the steps and, by extension, Joe when I find my way to the Compound for new pencils and it doesn't take me long at all to sink down beside him and rub a hand idly across his back.
No words said because right now, I don't really think any need to be.
My hand still idly strokes back and forth, palm fully open as I try and provide some idle manner of comfort, even though I know it's probably doing nothing. "Got so wrapped up in my own thoughts, I guess..." I note unsurely, thumb brushing the cloth beneath it, rubbing down his spine. "I guess I didn't realize until it was too late."
"I thought I was going to die, I was so sure..." I let out a weary and anxious laugh, even though it's years back now.
I lean into Joe's touch and turn my nose until it's pressed to his neck, lips hovering precariously by warm skin where I can press a kiss if I want to. "You okay?" I ask carefully, because of all days, this is one of the biggest we're ever going to have cause to recall in our lives. My hand slides down to his waist and rests there.
It's still so absolutely strange to be sitting in public, to do this, to hear that affectionate endearment trickle off Joe's lips in my direction. "Was writing," I admit quietly. "I skipped most of the jump and progressed to Market Garden, but now I'm backtracking back to the first jump." Then I ran out of lead and had to come here to find more. "I don't even know what time it is," I admit with a weary laugh. Time's someone managed to slip absolutely away.
I don't exactly ease away when he says he has plans. I'm here, after all, and I'm settling nice and comfortable with him, just trying to hold on. "Let me cook for you?" I offer, feeling like it's something. "You can just relax for once."
That gets a warm smile from me because it's a small victory and while it isn't exactly whole and huge, I like it. "I hope you don't mind pasta and veggies," I point out, on my feet and extending both hands to him, waiting for him to tug himself along. "C'mon, I'll even curl up with you after and try and help you forget all about the day?"
"What, and endure your endless bitching?" I echo, wrapping an arm around Joe's waist and lightly coaxing him against my side while I study his face and lean in to press a one-one-thousand, two-one-thousand, three-one-thousand kiss against his lips and then stay leaning in for a long moment. "You know," I say quietly. "It's been almost five months, to speak of stretches of time."
I grin at that, tugging him inside lightly and pressing another kiss to his lips when I get the opportunity, sitting him down in a kitchen chair. "Possessive of your pans, are we?" I note lightly, ducking into the fridge and bending over to search for ingredients, allowing a little extra time for looking at his ass, if Joe is so inclined.
No words said because right now, I don't really think any need to be.
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"Why did you remind me what day it was, baby?"
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"I thought I was going to die, I was so sure..." I let out a weary and anxious laugh, even though it's years back now.
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He traces his fingers through the curling hair at the nape of Web's neck.
"Whatcha been doin'?"
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"Sure, Davey. Why the fuck not?"
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He's quiet for a moment after that, thinking, until a slow smile spreads across his mouth.
"Yeah, it must be."
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"And neither do you."
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