TLV Inbox

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

voice . text . video . action

Comments

[handleyourshit]

Now she does pull away, enough to be able to look up when she asks, "Would that be alright?"

Breaches are hard for a lot of people, not just Astarion. She tries to be as aware of that as she is respecting her own needs, too.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

"More than. I - don't want to be by myself right now anyway," he admits. "No. I mean, I want to be with you." There's a sort of hesitation in the second admission, as if he was trying to keep himself together. For her.

[handleyourshit]

The first would have been enough, would have been something she could be content with in the long run. She's already starting to nod to agree.

The second stops her cold though, hits something much, much deeper and more tender in her. The part of her that's still Rosita Espinosa-Seed is unsurprised because of course, of course her husband wants to be with her right now. Always.

The rest of her, the tarnished and ragged and fractured and dull Rosita Espinosa who knows how to take down a walker, scrambles to pave over how it tugs at something vital in her, clearing her throat and looking away quickly, briefly, before she continues to nod.

"Okay. Yeah. I -" Desperately want that too, only slightly more powerful than the desire to not have it used against her. "I'd like that."

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

After a small, accepting little nod, he steps away to take off his boots. "You want me to keep Mae in?" he wonders, not wanting to exasperate her already high tension.

He doesn't think anything of this moment. Jacob Espinota-Seed loved his wife fiercely, and everything they did was in tandem. Now, though...well, it's all thd same. Easy movement to sit on the bed, bring out a water bottle.

Watch her.

[handleyourshit]

It's harder for her to remove the things she uses like armor, to drop her pack by the door, to leave her boots beside it. She does it, though.

And she shakes her head. "She's been cooped up a long time already, it's not fair to leave her." Her caution around Mae is not because she wishes the dog ill, by any means.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

He leans over and unlatches the crate. She doesn't come barreling out as much as she yawns and meanders, sniffing Rosita's boots and pack.

"I'll take her out once all this is fucking sorted," he mutters, gesturing to the door and all of it out there. "Come on. We probably should talk about the breach, huh?"

[handleyourshit]

Rosita is braced for the charge - Mae is a young working breed, after all - but when what happens is much calmer, she even offers a palm and a light scratch between the ears.

She looks up, though, at that.

"Should we?" She would have been content just to sit with it, she thinks; to let it fade and occasionally enjoy the moments that are gone, just like she always has.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

He's been knocked on his ass too many times by her. Leaving her crate is an essential skill. And now she gets a few pets, which she likes.

She does try to investigate the pack more, though, nosing underneath it.

Jacob shakes his head. "Yeah, we should. That's not something I can just - shake off."

[handleyourshit]

There's food in there, but nothing she thinks will interest a dog; all the same she mutters, "Leave it," to her, and then shifts her entire attention over to Jacob.

She drops her knife into her boot, and crosses over to him.

"Okay." Her either, honestly, but she's largely used to grappling that kind of thing alone. "What about it?"

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

Mae does indeed leave it, but she isn't happy about it and so sneezes into her boots before finding something else to sniff.

Jacob reaches out an arm to her. "I don't know. I - I was happy there, though. It felt really nice."

[handleyourshit]

"I was too."

Which is a hard thing to admit. She sits down beside him, and tucks herself under his arm, sliding one of her own around his waist.

"I don't think I've ever actually been that happy."

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

"I know I never have. But that breach, it - fuck, it felt more like me than anything else. It was like someone took me and put me in that city. Same person. Same feelings."

He wraps that arm around her. "Maybe that's why I'm less - fucked up about it now than usual?"

[handleyourshit]

"I used to be that person."

There is a line drawn straight through Rosita's life that separates it into was and is.

"Now I'm something else."

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

"That isn't a bad thing."

And he fumbles a moment, looking up to the ceiling. "You can't always be that person."

He swallows hard. "I know I'm not, either. And - " He shakes his head. "But you aren't completely...not."

He knows he's rambling, but the more he talks, the less he has to think about the fact that he's happy here. Right here with her.

[handleyourshit]

"I'm not that person," she says again, firmly, looking up at him.

"I mean yes, we shared some characteristics, but she's not - she never -"

She shakes her head. "She got to be happy. And she was, with you."

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

"Yeah. I know. But he was happy, too. And he, goddamn...I - feel the same way with you."

He leans his head back. "Even here in the middle of this fucking place with some killer out there putting people on hooks. Maybe especially here."

[handleyourshit]

She's quiet for a moment, studying him, watching him watch the ceiling.

Feeling... all kinds of things, lodged right at the base of her throat.

"...you know that's not fair, right?" she finally asks, swallowing.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

He looks down to her.

"What's not fair?" There's a lot of things that aren't fair.

[handleyourshit]

"You can't just - say that. When you're still looking for a ring on your finger." Yes, she saw.

Yes, she's done it herself.

"When you're still looking at me and seeing someone who can't fucking sleep without you breathing beside her. Who still jumps up onto countertops when a mouse runs by, who still believes people are basically good if they can just get out of their own way. Who asks for a pool party birthday specifically so the two of you can beat everyone else at chicken fighting, or whatever that's even called."

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

He shakes his head, finding his words, finding the breath in his chest. "No, Rosita, don't- it ain't like that. This breach didn't- put shit on me that wasn't there before. It just confirmed what was already there. For me. It's fine if it's not for you. But what isn't fair is - sitting around here, knowing something like that and not saying it."

[handleyourshit]

"Oh, so now I'm not being fair because I've never said anything?"

She's not quite in control of saying it; anger is better than fear, and especially this fear.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

He's quiet for a moment, then sighs. "Not you, Ro. Me. What's not fair about me is that I've been sitting here feeling it and not telling you. I don't - know what you're feeling," he admits.

[handleyourshit]

She could keep the fight going - or rather, fan it into existence, since Jacob refuses to bite. Every version of her prefers anger to fear, prefers to be on the offense than cornered on defense.

But she remembers the conversation they had on the beach - the conversation they had in Astarion's cabin, all three of them. She knows exactly where the problem is.

"You said you were building a place for me into your future. You never leave your people behind, wouldn't let me break up with you. You've said how you feel. I'm the one who can't figure out how to trust what you're saying."

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

He doesn't dispute that. He just plucks a bit of fabric from her shoulder, toying with the shirt as he does. He's not taking the bait, he's not turning this into a fight, because he's tired. And there's more important things to do than fight. For him.

Anger is better than fear, but he feels both so much all the time that he can't help but simply - allow it to happen.

"Nothing I can do to fix that," he tells her softly. "But - it's fine. I'll figure it out one day."

[handleyourshit]

"It's not yours to fix."

She pulls away enough so that she can turn more to face him, so she can see him more clearly - and hopefully he can see her.

"I care about you, Jacob. You're important to me. You haven't done anything wrong by me, and that's... terrifying to me."