handleyourshit | Duplicity Inbox

This is Rosita. I'll hit you back when I can.

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She glances over, sees which one he picked.

"I wanted to do something more complicated - a bowline or a half hitch or something, but. I'm not that good." She's back to the dandelion again, though she couldn't say why.

"What's your favorite superstition, J?"

He watches her study it and feels proud.

That's an easy answer. "Friday the 13th. 13 is a lucky number as often as it's unlucky, so every Friday the 13th felt special. I always celebrated."

She smiles, tips him a knowing look.

"We should, next time," she offers.

"Dandelions are considered weeds because they grow so fast, and their roots are hard to pull up. But every part of them is useful - edible or medicinal - and bees love them," she explains. "And there's the wishing, the good luck. Sun and wind and earth all together."

"I like them because they spread so far. I like the thought that when they die, they live on in a hundred places far from where they fell." It's all he's wanted, really. To matter in a dozen places, even if he never belonged to a single place or person in his life.

She nods at the square knot he liked.

"I like that they're so simple, but they never, ever slip or quit. They just get tighter the more you pull on them."

"This is what I want." He holds it up over his heart. "What do you think?"

She smiles, pulls one of the popsicles out of the box because she can't help but enjoy the way it has to look while she considers.

"Let's combine them," she decides. "Keep it simple, but make the stems the knot."

He sketches out another dandelion, then hands it over to her. "You draw the knot. That way it's both of us in it."

He's just going to grab a popsicle for himself, because yeah, it's pretty funny.

She grins around the confection in her mouth, spins it just a bit side to side and licks her lips when she pulls it out to speak, accepting the paper.

"Here what do you think - like this -" She fills in the center, four intersecting lines, two dandelion heads, one in each opposite corner.

"I like it." He loves it. He adds a little shading.

"Where are you going to put it?"

She waits, and when he pauses she picks it up and holds it over the same place he did.

"They're matching tattoos, right?"

"So next question: when do we get them done? Drake's got a tattoo parlor. I know the people who work there." They could do it any time.

She's doublefisting now, popsicle in one hand, putting down the sketch for a jello shot in the other.

"I can meet you in the city tomorrow after shift," she offers. Then she grins: "Or we can go now. We have a fucking car."

"Yeah but I just had two shots of vodka," and so has she. He leans over and takes another one. "We'll go tomorrow."

She snorts, but she's smiling.

"Hot tub it is."

"Race you," he says and bolts for the other side of the cabin, for the balcony with the hot tub waiting for them.

She is absolutely not expecting that so: "You little shit!"

She's quicker than most would be getting up, but she's still way, way behind him as she runs for the same.

Jesus throws his shirt off and to the side, has his pants undone but not off as he dives into the water. "I win!"

Rosita goes the opposite, flinging first one boot and then the other off to the sides, and she's down to her underwear by the time she reaches the edge.

"You cheated!" she laughs, sending a wave of water after him.

"You mean I won!" He retorts, laughing as she splashes him. He's a little drunk and a lot happy right now and he hasn't felt either thing in much, much too long.

She strips her top off over her head, and then she's over the side too, laughing as she dunks herself immediately before he can.

She comes up to return the favor.

He splashes at her again the moment her head is visible but eventually settles down.

"I love this place. Thank you for letting me stay here. It's better than anywhere I've ever been before."

She settles with her elbows propped against the side, lounging down in it. It really would be easy to get used to the way things are here.

"Let?" she huffs, snorting. "What's this let bullshit? Where I am, you are."

It stirs up feeling in his chest and he can't speak for a second.

"Yeah," he manages. Don't ever go, he thinks desperately. "Well you're not getting rid of me now."

She just smiles at him - she doesn't miss it, but she doesn't want to make a big deal either - and splashes half heartedly at him with her fingers instead.

"Yeah? Thought I might have scared you off with the party the other night."