pursuitofcappiness | inbox

This is perfect, thank you.

[ She'll probably be picking at it for the rest of the night, eating when she has an appetite and not forcing it when she doesn't. She manages a small smile as he pulls up a chair - settling on the bed nearby. ]

Stay. Please.

[ Because he was right. She didn't want to be alone right now, but she also didn't want to force him to keep her company if he had other things to do. No matter what they were going to label themselves as, she never wanted him to feel obligated to be with her. She always wanted it to be a choice. ]

You don't have to go if you don't want to.

[ The answer comes quickly, but not too quickly, sternly, but only in firmness. ]

I don't want to.

[ He wants to be here, he wants to make sure that she's alright because they're friends. They might be more than friends, a little bit, by now. And Steve is nothing if not loyal; he always has been. He'd fit in with the Magicians crew quite nicely, if he knew of their stories.

Instead, he takes a look at the books she's chosen. ]

That one's pretty good. Really makes you feel something.

Ok.

[ That’s all she needed to hear. She really did need to have that talk with him before this turned into anything serious, but not tonight. One day, she’d tell him as much as she could. As much as the others would allow as it wasn’t just her story to tell. Not the rest of it. But, she also knew he’d come at it from a place of caring and not judgement. That was important. Her friends were all tough exteriors, but pretty fucking vulnerable underneath. It’s what reminded her of how amazing they all truly were - how much they’d grown as people. He’d love them as much as she did if he treated them half as well as he did her.

Her eyes follow his, the very random collection of books spanning various moods, either the ability to lose herself or have something where she didn’t mind re-reading the same page four times. Bonus that their taste in books seemed to overlap in some areas so she’d had plenty to choose from. ]

I was going for a spectrum depending on how much I wanted to have to concentrate versus how much I was looking for a distraction. [ And that reminds her-- ] Don’t let me forget to bring you my copies of the Fillory and Further series.

I won't. But that can wait.

[ He does want to know the stories that kept her captivated as a child. What sort of things moved and built young Julia? Steve had been mostly shaped by Tolkien, and by Fitzgerald, later by Orwell and Hemingway. Yet, in the same way that his most treasured books are those that sparked his imagination and kept him company as a child, and they seemed to be alike in that respect. ]

Could I read to you?

[ They might both be a little too old for this, but he's always found it soothing. He doesn't have his mother's calming voice and soft breezy lilt, but instead, a steady voice, like a gentle stream. He does have hopes that it might lull her into a sleep, that she might be able to have pleasant dreams for a night. ]

[ Picking up a pickle spear from her plate, she takes a bite - his question catching her off guard. Her expression softens, chewing and setting down the pickle. ]

I would like that.

[ She used to read to Quentin when they were younger, when he was having a particularly hard time or they were at either of their houses and one of their parents were fighting inside. It was easier to disappear into the fantasy of it all than face the reality. She'd formed other coping mechanisms as she grew up, some not as healthy as others - some to spite her mother. But, it was really nice to go back to something that had been a comfort all those years ago. ]

In here or back in the living room?

[ Honestly, he hasn't thought that far. He just thinks it might help. Sandwiches, chips, reading. ]

Let's eat. We can do it after. Either room.

[ Because he doesn't really care, it is his house. Whatever she feels more comfortable in, he'll oblige. He's always been this easygoing, particularly when someone needs him to be. He doesn't think she's the type to need him to lead her through a tragedy, just. Offer things. Help. Companionship. Things that are easy for him.

In the meantime, he digs into his sandwich because he hasn't had dinner yet, and he's feeling a bit peckish. Happens sometimes when you eat enough to feed an actual army. He just hopes it's enough, because his house is usually full of ready-meals, junk, and honestly just vegetables that he eats raw, and bread for toasting.

Go easy on him, he has never had to impress anyone with his cooking. ]

Sounds like a plan. [ She’s grateful, everything he’d done far beyond what she could have expected or even imagined asking for. She was bad at reaching out for support, but she’d been working on getting better. Honestly, if he’d just confirmed he was okay and had promised he’d be smart about getting home, she’d have left it at that. Maybe asked for confirmations when he got to his house -- but not for him to come get her. That had been a surprise and right now? She was glad she hadn’t turned it down. Going through the motions of grief was getting easier and easier and that concerned her. She could tell herself that they were going to wake back up, but that wasn’t always the case. It hadn’t been with Sarissa. She’d been sent home right as she’d revived. Death was also something she couldn’t control or change with a snap of her fingers.

Finishing off the pickle spear, she tackles the sandwich - adding some of the chips onto it for added crunch. And it’s good - really good if the size of her bites is anything to go by. She hadn’t thought she was this hungry until she actually started eating. Weird how that worked. ]

[ Sometimes people who are too caught up in something tend to forget other things. So if she was surprised that she's hungry, he's not. He does look at what she's doing and then pulls apart his sandwich to do the same. For some reason, he'd never considered it before, but it's kind of a cool idea. After all, he was going to eat both of them anyway. They went together.

Young people these days, always coming up with brilliant innovations.

He stays mostly quiet as he eats, not because there's not a lot to talk about, but mostly because he's focused on doing the eating bit quickly and getting to the reading bit. And... right now isn't really a light conversation over dinner sort of night. ]

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