Rosita Espinosa (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
handleyourshit) wrote2032-07-23 01:51 pm
handleyourshit) wrote2032-07-23 01:51 pm
"I think so too," she admits. On both counts.
But - "He might be more attached to Grayson than to us. And you might not like the answers I get."
She cares about Carver more than she's willing to admit, but that's not all that matters in the end.
But - "He might be more attached to Grayson than to us. And you might not like the answers I get."
She cares about Carver more than she's willing to admit, but that's not all that matters in the end.
He nods. He knows; he's thought of that, too. It's possible that it doesn't even matter anymore who Carver is more attached to; vampires can control people.
"We'll handle it when we come to it."
"We'll handle it when we come to it."
She rubs at the corner of her eye while she breathes out; she hates thinking about it. Hates that that has to be the answer, but she nods.
"Anyway. Point stands. Us, then we add people."
"Anyway. Point stands. Us, then we add people."
"Okay." The first sign, really, that he'll follow her lead even when he wants to do something else. But she has a good point, and anyway, it's not like they need a refuge set up right away. They can take their time.
She nods.
Okay.
"I'll talk to Carver in the morning. We'll see what shakes out." She glances at Jesus.
"We good, J?"
Okay.
"I'll talk to Carver in the morning. We'll see what shakes out." She glances at Jesus.
"We good, J?"
It's not the first time they've ever argued, but before, they had Maggie or Rick making the decisions that one or the other had to abide by. Here, for the first time, it's just them.
He looks at her, calm but for a little touch of wariness that maybe he was too quick to relax. "Are we?"
He looks at her, calm but for a little touch of wariness that maybe he was too quick to relax. "Are we?"
There's a line of tension in her that just won't quit these days; that she can't get to in order to ease, can't work out how to cut. She looks back at him, watching with a steady gaze.
"I am. You?"
"I am. You?"
He nods, relaxing a fraction. "Yeah. I'll just be glad when Carver's convinced."
She watches him, watches that tension drain out of him, and feels a twinge of... something. She shifts her weight.
"What's -" Wrong, she starts to say, but maybe she doesn't want to hear the answer so she stops herself and shakes her head.
"Okay. I'd offer to walk home with you, but. It's the Down."
"What's -" Wrong, she starts to say, but maybe she doesn't want to hear the answer so she stops herself and shakes her head.
"Okay. I'd offer to walk home with you, but. It's the Down."
"It's fine," he's used to walking alone. "Unless you want to stay over tonight."
He doesn't care who sees him with a SIN Guard.
He doesn't care who sees him with a SIN Guard.
Normally she would, just because she can, because she would take the suggestion as an invitation.
Now she almost asks do you want me to and isn't that something. She shakes her head.
"I don't think I should."
Now she almost asks do you want me to and isn't that something. She shakes her head.
"I don't think I should."
There's a fairly open door policy between them and he can't help but ask, "Because we had a fight?"
She shakes her head.
"No. No, I don't think so."
They've fought before and it didn't unsettle her like she is now.
"I just feel... I don't know."
"No. No, I don't think so."
They've fought before and it didn't unsettle her like she is now.
"I just feel... I don't know."
"Restless?" He looks at her carefully, wondering if it's just having old instincts set off, thinking the threat of another apocalypse might have crept near.
"Always." The city is too tall, it presses in too close - it's too filled with people who are corpses that don't know it yet.
"This is... different, but it'll be okay. It'll pass."
"This is... different, but it'll be okay. It'll pass."
He almost tells her then. He almost tells her how the dreams he has culminated in one panicked moment on a rooftop where he couldn't convince himself there hadn't been an outbreak, that people weren't pushing their way through the streets to evade something undead and ravenous.
It had taken him an hour to calm down enough to climb back down to the sidewalk.
He almost tells her. But he doesn't, because maybe this isn't the time, and maybe he doesn't know what to do about it yet.
"I'll pass," he says. "But if it doesn't, you know where I am."
It had taken him an hour to calm down enough to climb back down to the sidewalk.
He almost tells her. But he doesn't, because maybe this isn't the time, and maybe he doesn't know what to do about it yet.
"I'll pass," he says. "But if it doesn't, you know where I am."
She doesn't consciously know that there's something there, something he doesn't tell her; there are plenty of things they don't tell each other and never will and it doesn't change anything, doesn't mean anything.
She presses her lips together and nods now, though. She wishes she'd said yes. She doesn't think she could have. She hates this.
"I do," she agrees. She does know. She lifts an arm in silent invitation.
She presses her lips together and nods now, though. She wishes she'd said yes. She doesn't think she could have. She hates this.
"I do," she agrees. She does know. She lifts an arm in silent invitation.
Edited 2023-02-28 02:59 (UTC)
It leaves him feeling he's failed somehow he can't put a finger on, reminiscent of old fears and old unknowns he hasn't had to worry about because he hasn't been close to anyone but Maggie in so very long.
It helps a little when she lifts that arm and he hugs her.
It helps a little when she lifts that arm and he hugs her.
It surprises people, sometimes, that Rosita likes to hug; they don't know the half of it, though. Sometimes she thinks that she can get through anything, anything, if she can just put her arms around someone and hold on tight, and have them hold onto her just as tight.
They've gone awkward now between the two of them, but she doesn't even hesitate on this. She barely waits for him to reach for her before she's pulling him in tight, arms wrapped around without reservation to keep him close.
They've gone awkward now between the two of them, but she doesn't even hesitate on this. She barely waits for him to reach for her before she's pulling him in tight, arms wrapped around without reservation to keep him close.
"It doesn't feel like we're okay," he tells her, holding her against him, face tucked into her hair. "What's going on?"
"There's just a lot here we never had to deal with back home," she says after a few moments of grasping, quiet, fingers pressing into his shoulders.
"I'm worried we're becoming different people. Again."
"I'm worried we're becoming different people. Again."
"We're letting new people in. We're doing it in ways we haven't been able to in years." Or maybe ever.
"It's going to change us a little."
"It's going to change us a little."
"I know. But I don't know whoever you're becoming, or whoever I am."
She's allowed to be afraid, she thinks. She's still human. She's earned the right to fear the ways people can change when the world around them shifts violently from what they're used to.
"I know you now. I know me now. That's all it is."
She's allowed to be afraid, she thinks. She's still human. She's earned the right to fear the ways people can change when the world around them shifts violently from what they're used to.
"I know you now. I know me now. That's all it is."
"I'm still me. The same person you know, just-" He fumbles for an explanation. He settles on a joke, a faint laugh. "Now I'm slutting it up. That's the only difference."
The thing is, everybody changes. They change because of the world around them, because of the circumstances they find themselves in, because of the people in their lives; change and the ability to do so is a survivor's greatest strength, and they're two of the best.
She's not comforted by the joke. She just holds on tighter.
She's not comforted by the joke. She just holds on tighter.
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