[ Karen still catches him outside his door from time to time, or he does hers. Once or twice, he comes over again, though he never falls asleep like he did that day. Never stays the night a second round.
But he thinks about it. Thinks about how she's let him take her to work a couple more times and the way she beams at him as he leaves. About the way she watches him when she thinks he's not looking.
So eventually, he decides: fuck it. She isn't being coy. God knows he isn't, either. ]
[ they pass each other in the halls, she brings out beer to him a time or two while he works on his bike. she asks him to fix a squeak somewhere under her hood and he comes over one, or twice. he doesn't stay, and karen doesn't ask him to, but she gets the feeling he thinks about it, too.
and sometimes, on the time or two he takes her to work, she thinks about more than that. about thanking him, about leaning in for a quick kiss on the cheek. she doesn't - some combination of feeling this out, of still working herself back together, of waiting to see if he'll make the first move after all - but that doesn't keep her from feeling a little lighter each time he drops her off. each time she watches him ride off again after she steps inside.
more often than not when she's not working, the thought of that dinner comes up. and more often than not, she pulls out her phone, considers texting him.
today - she's at work when her phone buzzes, and she finishes putting in the next order before she slides the phone out, seeing the notification from logan, and then beaming to herself just a bit when she reads the text. ]
[ She answers quicker than he expects, considering he knows she's at work, and he ends up doing the same—pausing in front of a shelf full of mismatched cereal boxes circa 1991 to reply. ]
[So far, it's been a time. It hasn't been all negative. (And some of that has been...awkward in its own right.) Just, surprise of surprises, it's been a lot of negative. It's been echoing guilt and drowning despair and hollow loneliness, god, they are just so alone.
So when he starts feeling a spark of something joyful, it arrests his attention. When it hits him, the brightly saturated hues, it doesn't distress him this time because it fits. It matches. It's light and giddy; it's butterflies in the stomach in the best way; it's the sweet blooming heat of--he knows this, he knows he knows this. To simply call it love isn't right. It's the falling. It's the fresh exhilarating whirlwind of it. It's when everything's new and bright and all the love songs make sense and all you want to do is dance in the street and shout from the rooftops (and lock yourself in the bedroom for days on end).
And yes, there's just enough room in his chest for the ache of it, the feeling decades old, a longing for something gone from his life, but the rest? Oh, the rest is overwhelmed by how good it feels.
He has to find it. There's no good reason to even bother resisting. Whoever it is, he wants to share in it, bask in it, celebrate it. For once, god, this one he doesn't want to end.]
[ it has been a time, and karen's recognizes that she's been lucky enough amid the chaos. she doesn't know what's instigated this, or why, or what it is she's done to allow this, but most of the last few weeks have been good. she recognizes a lot of that has to do with logan, with the fluttering in her chest that seems to only grow during those moments of intense clarity, of unbelievable levity. but on top of that, she has watched as people have searched her out, watched them come to find her with varying degrees of reactions to this feeling.
the first time or two, karen had been terrified - she hadn't known what to think that someone could feel these butterflies, that they were drawn to her because of that tightness in her chest. she'd worried that they'd know who, that it'd be a bit like a secret was being broadcast out to anyone who picked up on it, but she soon realized that wasn't the focus at all.
that in reality, really and truthfully, people just wanted to feel good. or, rather, they didn't want it, but they hadn't felt it in so long it was hard to remember how it felt. in a way, it broke karen's heart each time - that there were people searching her out because the feeling was so foreign, right up until the moment she remembered how long it's been since she's felt this seamlessly good.
( it doesn't matter that logan hasn't been texting back nearly as frequently, doesn't matter that she's worried what it could mean, if he's okay. she tells herself it is fine and it will be, that she's getting wrapped up in too much else, and this is just part of it. )
karen's walking home when she notices clint turn a corner half a block ahead of her, and she brightens a bit to see the familiar face. she's sure he's busy, heading somewhere important, but even so she waves. ] Clint! Hey!
[He's glad this one feels close. Not hours of driving through the boonies, but somewhere he can reasonably walk to. Makes it so much easier to round a corner and simply know.
It stops him in his tracks for a moment. It isn't so much surprise that it's Karen--why shouldn't she feel that, why not scrabble for as much joy and happiness in this place as you can!--as much as it's just the power of the emotion flooding him. Is it his own currently skewed perception of reality, or does she seem brighter? Practically glowing with it.
His face is going to hurt from grinning so hard, but it'll be a good hurt. He starts by walking toward her, yeah. Like a normal person. But nothing is normal here. In the best of ways! It's the lightness of every step and the way the heart hums a happy secret tune to itself, the way everything feels fresh and brand new, the way the possibilities spread out as far as the eye can see, and so much of it looks like good news. He feels young for it. He feels like when he would swipe some extra food in the mess just to offer her, or that brief but thrilling moment when their fingers would touch on handing one another coffee, or, god, the first time they kissed--
He's not sure when he picks up speed about it, but he knows in the last couple of steps he's built enough momentum to make throwing his arms around her and lifting her easier than if he'd done it from a stock standstill. He spins a couple of thrilling, dizzying times before dropping her feet back to solid ground, looking a little like a lovesick idiot himself.]
[ Some nebulous amount of time has passed since they saw each other. For Amos, it's not for any other reason than he's just not naturally inclined or good at keeping up with people. Has to really think about it, work at it, be intentional about connecting a passing thought or consideration to someone's name, their face, their memory. Karen is sort of — stuck in his own memory pretty damn clearly here. Not enough that he thinks he's gotta check in on her all the time, but enough that some time's gone by and she's someone who's been good to him, and he kinda wants to make sure this world and the people in it are being good to her, too.
There's no preamble, nothing that suggests he's spent time wondering what to say first. Just — direct. ]
[ for better or for worse, karen has been busy. which isn't to say she's forgotten at all about amos, or sees the distance as anything other than their lives taking root, but she hasn't really taken the time (like she wishes she did, like she should) to see him.
there have been texts - casual, short back-and-forths with no real awareness of delays or the time between them. it's nice, to have that sort of casual connection, but at the same time there is that reminder in the back of her head, the flash of the memories of the night he burned her mannequin and freed her from its echo. where she spent... god. an embarrassing amont of time pressed against him, shaking, waiting for the pain to fall.
all that to say - when she pulls out her phone and sees the text, karen ends up smiling to herself, quickly responding back- ]
I am. :) I'm actually on shift right now- will be until around 11pm tonight. You hungry?
[ Recently he's been hovering around the fringes more often than not, spending time at the Scrapyard more than Panorama. Not for any particular reason except they needed some extra hands, he could be there, and Cassian mentioned it, so — very much a might as well situation.
But he's seen the postings about upgrading the Rail, so he'll be heading that way shortly. The time away from the bustle of Panorama's steadied him a little. And sometimes he's just not the best being around so many people all at once. Sometimes he wants just the quiet of him and an engine he's gotta take apart and put back together; just do his thing — what he knows best — like on the Roci. But there are some people he's met, he figures — doesn't mind their company. Karen's one of them. And she's one of the few he bothers keeping up with by this texting thing. ]
[ this is somehow out of nowhere and also. not at all. that surprising. karen sees the text and has half a second of 'what?' before she realizes it's a question and her need to respond takes over. ]
It's a bit vulgar for like- online slang. But it stands for 'Daddy I'd Like to Fuck' Older men who you find attractive.
[ Karen is one of the few people who gets a note with her gift. It's a package left on the diner counter while Karen is busy in the back. Furiosa sneaks in and out. ]
Stop by the garage if you need to learn how to swap them out.
[ Inside the package are new light bulbs for her truck's headlights. The packaging warns about ultra-high luminosity and not to look directly into them. These things are not meant to light up the road as much as blind anyone staring head-on when you flick on the brights. Just handy for a girl to have sometimes. ]
[ part of karen wonders if she should be a little more suspicious about a package left on the bar when she steps in the back of the diner. but karen does end up looking inside the package, sees the note and the bulbs, and karen ends up smiling to herself - bright, happy, touched.
very handy for a girl to have on hand, she thinks.
it'll be that next morning when karen is up and knows she doesn't go into work until much later that furiosa will get a text back. ]
[ It's not that he thinks Karen is pissed at him. And he's not angry with her, obviously. Just...guess this was something he'd expected would happen, that at some point she'd look for something he couldn't give. But it's not as if they're in the middle if a war, not anymore, so—
He's trying to take all the advice people have been giving him to heart. About not ruining a good thing.
Besides, he's promised her the day today from the start. Just the two of them, right? Something quiet. Something simple and personal without the baggage that his people represent. He doesn't mean that they're a burden, not like that—he'd do anything for them—but he'd be lying if he said it were easy. If he said they're not a responsibility he carries every day. Maybe she thinks the X-Men are one big happy family, but they're not. It's complicated. She doesn't need a front row seat into their bullshit tensions, the heaviness of loss that inevitably hangs over them during this time of year. She doesn't need to watch the way Logan still stands separate from them all, one foot in, waiting for the world to snatch them away next, or the nervous way Rogue gets around strangers.
He comes through the door with a real dinner—better than the cheap stuff they usually get. He's only been out for a bit to grab it, borrowed her truck to make sure he got it all home in one piece.
The boxes slide into the table. He sets the final touch on top—a dessert that she might've asked for or mentioned wanting in passing, a little hard to find but not impossible. ]
Hey. [ The smallest pause—and then he leans in to kiss her. His smile is crooked. ] You miss me?
[ it's not like karen is pissed at him. not really. and most of it has to do with the circles she's been talking herself in for the last thirty hours or so.
because on one hand, there had been a version of christmas that karen had thought would (hoped might) happen. she had known that logan would go to see his family, the other mutants, on christmas eve. she'd known that charles had plans for them, that Wade was invited, and that it was going to be something small and manageable and that it wasn't, really, a big deal. and, in knowing that was christmas eve, she and logan had come to the agreement that christmas day would be theirs. it was part of the reason why she said she could cover christmas eve, why when wade and the other workers had called in, she said it was fine, she had it handled, that they should all go and enjoy their nights.
the problem, is that she had a secret, personal, internal hope that she hadn't told anyone, and therefore shouldn't be upset that it didn't happen. but she'd told herself weeks ago that if logan asked her to go, she would be there. she had her potential replacement lined up, she had extra little presents to bring, she was ready, she was excited, just in case. but she wasn't going to suggest it, wasn't going to ask, because she didn't think that was appropriate. if logan wanted her to go, he would ask. if he didn't, he wouldn't.
and there in lies the heart of said problem - because christmas eve came, and logan did not mention it to her. he dropped her off at work, she made her last ditch effort in saying that she thought the night would be empty and boring if he ever needed an out, knowing how all families can get, and then he had laughed and left and that was that.
the night had been nearly empty. lonely, too. karen caught herself vacillating aggressively between don't be immature, just text and no, no, I shouldn't bother them where logan was concerned, but also just about anyone else she thought to talk to. she sent out some merry christmas texts, checked in with a couple of people who she stayed in contact with, but received very little, if anything, in return. she didn't like the mindset it put her in, didn't liked the feeling that tucked itself behind her ribs, but karen did what she always did at these times - pushed it down, away, and tried to focus on something else.
her shift ended late enough into the night it was considered early, and she drives herself home. she'd asked logan to let her keep the car, in part because if he had texted her to join for christmas eve, she could just drive herself there (easier on both sides) and also, just in case the party went long, it meant that he did not need to leave because of her. it also meant that by the time she got home, it was dark, quiet, and she tucks herself into bed and tries to ignore the pit growing in her stomach as she tries to go to bed watching the dim lights of the shitty tiny christmas tree she'd convinced logan they needed for the room.
when she wakes, logan is already awake, and it's mid-afternoon. there is a sleepy merry christmas exchanged and karen thinks she has bypassed the worst of it. she gets up, takes a shower, goes about the day in that sleepy, private way they sometimes get to have, and karen doesn't think she's in a mood, but she also knows she's not as excited as she, perhaps, thinks she should be. it means there are moments when she tries, forces brighter smiles than feel genuine, says something is wrong, everything is fine, and keeps her eyes on the tv screen as she tries to find something to have on in the background when logan makes a comment about going out to get dinner.
there is nothing on tv, so she accepts whatever she finds on the radio, pulling out the small gifts she'd gotten for him and stacks them under the tree, trying to pretend like the knot in her stomach has gone away. when he returns, she is back on the couch, folding a couple of things of laundry that had been laying around, and she only really looks up when he leans in to kiss her. she sees his crooked smile and leans up to meet the kiss, and god she's pathetic, especially with how almost despite herself she feels some of that tension easing. ]
Of course. [ she's not lying, the exchange is familiar and normal and fits the moment.
and that is when her eyes fall over to the stack of food, boxes piled on boxes with another bag on top, and it's more than she remembers telling him she wanted. her eyes go back to him again, sparkling a little. ] What all is that?
[The bundle probably shows up waiting for her on a table in the front house of the diner, wrapped up in red ribbons with black cats that might be Hello Kitty drawn across them. It's not a huge box, but a pair of smaller ones: the first contains a series of pictures he took of them together, tucked safely in plastic photocard inserts that have been decorated with holographic stickers reading things like "best friends <3" and "besties 4 lyfe". Luckily, the photographs can be removed easily and the outer sleeves thrown away.
The second box is a small pile of CDs: the kind of music Wade would've caught her dancing to when it played on the radio as they cleaned at the end of the night. And just in case she doesn't have one, he's also tucked a CD-playing Walkman in there. Prizes from all his scavenging days.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sometime during " no lifeguard on duty "
Date: 2025-06-16 11:42 pm (UTC)I'm stuck
In a hut
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Date: 2025-06-16 11:51 pm (UTC)Yes I’m still here
Where are you?
What do you mean stuck?
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Date: 2025-06-16 11:55 pm (UTC)There's something blocking the door and now I'm stuck
[ In a hut. ]
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From:🎀 fin.
From:august; some time after the event.
Date: 2025-07-29 01:49 am (UTC)But he thinks about it. Thinks about how she's let him take her to work a couple more times and the way she beams at him as he leaves. About the way she watches him when she thinks he's not looking.
So eventually, he decides: fuck it. She isn't being coy. God knows he isn't, either. ]
Still looking forward to that dinner?
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Date: 2025-07-29 03:57 pm (UTC)and sometimes, on the time or two he takes her to work, she thinks about more than that. about thanking him, about leaning in for a quick kiss on the cheek. she doesn't - some combination of feeling this out, of still working herself back together, of waiting to see if he'll make the first move after all - but that doesn't keep her from feeling a little lighter each time he drops her off. each time she watches him ride off again after she steps inside.
more often than not when she's not working, the thought of that dinner comes up. and more often than not, she pulls out her phone, considers texting him.
today - she's at work when her phone buzzes, and she finishes putting in the next order before she slides the phone out, seeing the notification from logan, and then beaming to herself just a bit when she reads the text. ]
More than I'd like to admit.
You?
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Date: 2025-07-29 07:22 pm (UTC)Guess this is me admitting it.
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From:towards the end of the sept event
Date: 2025-09-16 06:35 pm (UTC)sparkles at
Date: 2025-09-16 10:12 pm (UTC)Yes, I do.
But are they for you or someone else?
hehehe
Date: 2025-09-16 10:17 pm (UTC)Me
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From:i'm okay to keep this going OR do something fun and new depending on what we wanna do c:
From:i think we can wrap on your next one!!
From:wraps this up months later because i like the soft.
From:sometime handwavy during feelings event
Date: 2025-09-29 01:11 am (UTC)So when he starts feeling a spark of something joyful, it arrests his attention. When it hits him, the brightly saturated hues, it doesn't distress him this time because it fits. It matches. It's light and giddy; it's butterflies in the stomach in the best way; it's the sweet blooming heat of--he knows this, he knows he knows this. To simply call it love isn't right. It's the falling. It's the fresh exhilarating whirlwind of it. It's when everything's new and bright and all the love songs make sense and all you want to do is dance in the street and shout from the rooftops (and lock yourself in the bedroom for days on end).
And yes, there's just enough room in his chest for the ache of it, the feeling decades old, a longing for something gone from his life, but the rest? Oh, the rest is overwhelmed by how good it feels.
He has to find it. There's no good reason to even bother resisting. Whoever it is, he wants to share in it, bask in it, celebrate it. For once, god, this one he doesn't want to end.]
screams very loudly
Date: 2025-09-29 04:23 am (UTC)the first time or two, karen had been terrified - she hadn't known what to think that someone could feel these butterflies, that they were drawn to her because of that tightness in her chest. she'd worried that they'd know who, that it'd be a bit like a secret was being broadcast out to anyone who picked up on it, but she soon realized that wasn't the focus at all.
that in reality, really and truthfully, people just wanted to feel good. or, rather, they didn't want it, but they hadn't felt it in so long it was hard to remember how it felt. in a way, it broke karen's heart each time - that there were people searching her out because the feeling was so foreign, right up until the moment she remembered how long it's been since she's felt this seamlessly good.
( it doesn't matter that logan hasn't been texting back nearly as frequently, doesn't matter that she's worried what it could mean, if he's okay. she tells herself it is fine and it will be, that she's getting wrapped up in too much else, and this is just part of it. )
karen's walking home when she notices clint turn a corner half a block ahead of her, and she brightens a bit to see the familiar face. she's sure he's busy, heading somewhere important, but even so she waves. ] Clint! Hey!
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Date: 2025-09-29 08:39 am (UTC)It stops him in his tracks for a moment. It isn't so much surprise that it's Karen--why shouldn't she feel that, why not scrabble for as much joy and happiness in this place as you can!--as much as it's just the power of the emotion flooding him. Is it his own currently skewed perception of reality, or does she seem brighter? Practically glowing with it.
His face is going to hurt from grinning so hard, but it'll be a good hurt. He starts by walking toward her, yeah. Like a normal person. But nothing is normal here. In the best of ways! It's the lightness of every step and the way the heart hums a happy secret tune to itself, the way everything feels fresh and brand new, the way the possibilities spread out as far as the eye can see, and so much of it looks like good news. He feels young for it. He feels like when he would swipe some extra food in the mess just to offer her, or that brief but thrilling moment when their fingers would touch on handing one another coffee, or, god, the first time they kissed--
He's not sure when he picks up speed about it, but he knows in the last couple of steps he's built enough momentum to make throwing his arms around her and lifting her easier than if he'd done it from a stock standstill. He spins a couple of thrilling, dizzying times before dropping her feet back to solid ground, looking a little like a lovesick idiot himself.]
Hi.
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From:i'm back from my camping trip and okay to sorta let this fade or keep going!!! whichever c:
From:no subject
Date: 2025-11-25 05:33 am (UTC)There's no preamble, nothing that suggests he's spent time wondering what to say first. Just — direct. ]
You still at that diner?
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Date: 2025-11-25 05:53 pm (UTC)there have been texts - casual, short back-and-forths with no real awareness of delays or the time between them. it's nice, to have that sort of casual connection, but at the same time there is that reminder in the back of her head, the flash of the memories of the night he burned her mannequin and freed her from its echo. where she spent... god. an embarrassing amont of time pressed against him, shaking, waiting for the pain to fall.
all that to say - when she pulls out her phone and sees the text, karen ends up smiling to herself, quickly responding back- ]
I am. :)
I'm actually on shift right now- will be until around 11pm tonight.
You hungry?
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Date: 2025-11-26 04:06 am (UTC)[ Recently he's been hovering around the fringes more often than not, spending time at the Scrapyard more than Panorama. Not for any particular reason except they needed some extra hands, he could be there, and Cassian mentioned it, so — very much a might as well situation.
But he's seen the postings about upgrading the Rail, so he'll be heading that way shortly. The time away from the bustle of Panorama's steadied him a little. And sometimes he's just not the best being around so many people all at once. Sometimes he wants just the quiet of him and an engine he's gotta take apart and put back together; just do his thing — what he knows best — like on the Roci. But there are some people he's met, he figures — doesn't mind their company. Karen's one of them. And she's one of the few he bothers keeping up with by this texting thing. ]
I'll stop by.
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From:december.
Date: 2025-12-01 11:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-12-02 03:35 am (UTC)[ the heater in the front room of the diner is out, and wade has not managed to fix it yet. ]
Soup? Or... pasta?
[ a beat, and then a second, follow-up text: ]
Actually- noodles.
That's what I want.
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Date: 2025-12-02 03:57 pm (UTC)Don't tell me that shitty heater of yours croaked again.
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From:text.
Date: 2025-12-10 03:12 am (UTC)text.
Date: 2025-12-10 03:23 am (UTC)It's a bit vulgar for like- online slang.
But it stands for 'Daddy I'd Like to Fuck'
Older men who you find attractive.
Can I ask why? :)
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Date: 2025-12-23 02:48 am (UTC)Stop by the garage if you need to learn how to swap them out.
[ Inside the package are new light bulbs for her truck's headlights. The packaging warns about ultra-high luminosity and not to look directly into them. These things are not meant to light up the road as much as blind anyone staring head-on when you flick on the brights. Just handy for a girl to have sometimes. ]
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Date: 2025-12-28 09:45 pm (UTC)very handy for a girl to have on hand, she thinks.
it'll be that next morning when karen is up and knows she doesn't go into work until much later that furiosa will get a text back. ]
You at the garage today?
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From:on Christmas.
Date: 2025-12-27 03:32 pm (UTC)He's trying to take all the advice people have been giving him to heart. About not ruining a good thing.
Besides, he's promised her the day today from the start. Just the two of them, right? Something quiet. Something simple and personal without the baggage that his people represent. He doesn't mean that they're a burden, not like that—he'd do anything for them—but he'd be lying if he said it were easy. If he said they're not a responsibility he carries every day. Maybe she thinks the X-Men are one big happy family, but they're not. It's complicated. She doesn't need a front row seat into their bullshit tensions, the heaviness of loss that inevitably hangs over them during this time of year. She doesn't need to watch the way Logan still stands separate from them all, one foot in, waiting for the world to snatch them away next, or the nervous way Rogue gets around strangers.
He comes through the door with a real dinner—better than the cheap stuff they usually get. He's only been out for a bit to grab it, borrowed her truck to make sure he got it all home in one piece.
The boxes slide into the table. He sets the final touch on top—a dessert that she might've asked for or mentioned wanting in passing, a little hard to find but not impossible. ]
Hey. [ The smallest pause—and then he leans in to kiss her. His smile is crooked. ] You miss me?
[ He was gone for less than thirty minutes. ]
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Date: 2025-12-29 03:32 am (UTC)because on one hand, there had been a version of christmas that karen had thought would (hoped might) happen. she had known that logan would go to see his family, the other mutants, on christmas eve. she'd known that charles had plans for them, that Wade was invited, and that it was going to be something small and manageable and that it wasn't, really, a big deal. and, in knowing that was christmas eve, she and logan had come to the agreement that christmas day would be theirs. it was part of the reason why she said she could cover christmas eve, why when wade and the other workers had called in, she said it was fine, she had it handled, that they should all go and enjoy their nights.
the problem, is that she had a secret, personal, internal hope that she hadn't told anyone, and therefore shouldn't be upset that it didn't happen. but she'd told herself weeks ago that if logan asked her to go, she would be there. she had her potential replacement lined up, she had extra little presents to bring, she was ready, she was excited, just in case. but she wasn't going to suggest it, wasn't going to ask, because she didn't think that was appropriate. if logan wanted her to go, he would ask. if he didn't, he wouldn't.
and there in lies the heart of said problem - because christmas eve came, and logan did not mention it to her. he dropped her off at work, she made her last ditch effort in saying that she thought the night would be empty and boring if he ever needed an out, knowing how all families can get, and then he had laughed and left and that was that.
the night had been nearly empty. lonely, too. karen caught herself vacillating aggressively between don't be immature, just text and no, no, I shouldn't bother them where logan was concerned, but also just about anyone else she thought to talk to. she sent out some merry christmas texts, checked in with a couple of people who she stayed in contact with, but received very little, if anything, in return. she didn't like the mindset it put her in, didn't liked the feeling that tucked itself behind her ribs, but karen did what she always did at these times - pushed it down, away, and tried to focus on something else.
her shift ended late enough into the night it was considered early, and she drives herself home. she'd asked logan to let her keep the car, in part because if he had texted her to join for christmas eve, she could just drive herself there (easier on both sides) and also, just in case the party went long, it meant that he did not need to leave because of her. it also meant that by the time she got home, it was dark, quiet, and she tucks herself into bed and tries to ignore the pit growing in her stomach as she tries to go to bed watching the dim lights of the shitty tiny christmas tree she'd convinced logan they needed for the room.
when she wakes, logan is already awake, and it's mid-afternoon. there is a sleepy merry christmas exchanged and karen thinks she has bypassed the worst of it. she gets up, takes a shower, goes about the day in that sleepy, private way they sometimes get to have, and karen doesn't think she's in a mood, but she also knows she's not as excited as she, perhaps, thinks she should be. it means there are moments when she tries, forces brighter smiles than feel genuine, says something is wrong, everything is fine, and keeps her eyes on the tv screen as she tries to find something to have on in the background when logan makes a comment about going out to get dinner.
there is nothing on tv, so she accepts whatever she finds on the radio, pulling out the small gifts she'd gotten for him and stacks them under the tree, trying to pretend like the knot in her stomach has gone away. when he returns, she is back on the couch, folding a couple of things of laundry that had been laying around, and she only really looks up when he leans in to kiss her. she sees his crooked smile and leans up to meet the kiss, and god she's pathetic, especially with how almost despite herself she feels some of that tension easing. ]
Of course. [ she's not lying, the exchange is familiar and normal and fits the moment.
and that is when her eyes fall over to the stack of food, boxes piled on boxes with another bag on top, and it's more than she remembers telling him she wanted. her eyes go back to him again, sparkling a little. ] What all is that?
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From:backdated to crimas
Date: 2025-12-29 06:06 am (UTC)The second box is a small pile of CDs: the kind of music Wade would've caught her dancing to when it played on the radio as they cleaned at the end of the night. And just in case she doesn't have one, he's also tucked a CD-playing Walkman in there. Prizes from all his scavenging days.
The card simply reads: To a girl's best girl.]