It's not unpleasant to hear it, but it's jarring-- unexpected. Funny, in a way, because it's not like she really adjusted to being without him, but having him here-- having, suddenly, the possibility of a future, is new and strange. (Having, too, the terrifying possibility that he'll want nothing to do with the baby, by choice. The only thing that could be worse than losing him to death.)
If she were brave she'd tease back-- what about dad? But she doesn't think he's ready to confront that so plainly.
She settles into her corner of the couch, almost automatically tucking the blanket over her shoulder-- though that's always been as much a half-futile effort to find some trace of his scent still on it as a guard against the cold. Of course she's at ease, here. Other than the suspicious level of cleanliness and organization there's little trace of her presence-- she doesn't keep clothing in his drawers, she packs her paperbacks up when she leaves-- but his apartment still feels like a second home.
"We can find a rerun of something, and worry about catching up some other time." All she wants is to be with him. Which, admittedly, might be asking too much-- but she'll settle for being in the same place if that's all he can handle right now. Even if it's desperately, terribly not enough; not when she wants to bury her face against his chest and cry until she's empty, when she never wants to wake up in an empty bed again.
no subject
If she were brave she'd tease back-- what about dad? But she doesn't think he's ready to confront that so plainly.
She settles into her corner of the couch, almost automatically tucking the blanket over her shoulder-- though that's always been as much a half-futile effort to find some trace of his scent still on it as a guard against the cold. Of course she's at ease, here. Other than the suspicious level of cleanliness and organization there's little trace of her presence-- she doesn't keep clothing in his drawers, she packs her paperbacks up when she leaves-- but his apartment still feels like a second home.
"We can find a rerun of something, and worry about catching up some other time." All she wants is to be with him. Which, admittedly, might be asking too much-- but she'll settle for being in the same place if that's all he can handle right now. Even if it's desperately, terribly not enough; not when she wants to bury her face against his chest and cry until she's empty, when she never wants to wake up in an empty bed again.
"What are you in the mood for?"