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Sage wrinkled his nose when she claimed he'd melt if Selene looked at him wrong, huffing out a defensive "I would not." Of course, she wasn't too far off, he supposed ...he did want Selene to like him. In fact, he still felt like she wasn't his biggest fan quite yet and he still needed to prove himself to her. He wasn't sure he'd ever not feel that way. It was stupid, he knew...he and Selene got long just fine. Her and Jora had both forgiven him for whay had happened. But even so, he felt like he needed to prove himself to her. To both of them, a little bit. Maybe that was sort of the reason he'd been pushing himself to get so much done now that they were home. Sage grunted when she mentioned she wouldn't knock him out, and certainly not with a hammer. He supposed that was fair....a hammer would hurt him more than it would just knock him out nicely....but even so, there might be a time where he could be dangerous. He didn't want to hurt any of them, and if she had to knock him out to do that, then he wanted her to do it. Of course, her comment about liking his brain pulled a chuckle out of him, lips curving upwards again. Well that would make one of them. "Anything else, huh," he mused. "What if it knocks something back into place," he teased gently. He knew that wasn't how it worked....but he could tease. Focus on something more positive than the darker thoughts now threatening to take over. |
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Jora shot him a look at the I would not, unimpressed and yet visibly amused. “You’d fold faster than wet laundry and you know it,” she said flatly, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. But she didn’t press it further. She could tell by the way he wrinkled his nose and looked away that she’d hit a bit deeper than either of them intended. She knew that look. The one he got when he thought he had to earn his place again—even though he already had it. Twice over. She shifted slightly, knuckles brushing his arm as if by accident—just enough to remind him hey, I'm here without dragging the whole conversation into something heavy. “You’ve got nothing to prove,” she muttered, not quite looking at him, not quite joking. “Selene already decided not to stab you. That’s her version of a glowing review.” And when he chuckled—really chuckled—at her comment about his brain, Jora felt something in her chest ease, the weight of earlier slipping off her shoulders just a bit. It wasn’t gone, but it was manageable. That was what mattered. She rolled her eyes at his follow-up, leaning over to grab the next nail with an exasperated groan. “If a hammer to the skull fixes your brain, I’ll eat my damn boots,” she muttered. Then, after a beat, “...but I’ll let you be the guinea pig, just in case.” There was a warmth behind the sarcasm, though, plain as day. She nudged him lightly with her knee before she leaned back over the floorboard. “Now quit distracting me before this floor really ends up slanted, and I do have to knock you out just to fix it.” |
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Sage had moved to lean into her slightly when she brushed her knuckles against his arm, thankful she was able to sense when their banter had hit a nerve. He wasn't upset about it, of course, or at her ....but the silent apology and reminder that she did love him was appreciated. It always was. Sometimes he needed that reminder, for her to tell him she cared in more than just saying I love you or something a long those lines. This was deeper, more intimate, even if it was just a brief, passing touch. Her mention about Selene not stabbing him caused a corner of his mouth to twitch upwards into a smile. He'd gotten along well with Selene...and most of him knew she'd forgiven him. But there was still that bit that thought she didn't. He didn't know if that would ever fully go away...for her or Jora. But he could work on it. Besides, of Selene ever did decide to stab him, he figured he'd probably deserve it. He couldn't help but let his eyebrows shoot upwards in surprise when she mentioned eating her boots, shaking his head as he moved to grab another nail. "I wouldn't imagine they would be very edible," he noted with amusement. "Leather isn't very chewable," he added, trying to figure out how she'd even be able to do that. He knew it was just an expression and she wouldn't actually eat her boots, but still. He'd always found a way to do things he said he'd do, even if it was just for a chuckle. Ah, well. He'd work on that. "Oh good," he snorted as she kept talking. "I'll be sure to be a good boy and let you eat leather," he added with an eye roll. He simply shook his head with a fond grin on his face as she told him to stop distracting her, just settling into an easy rhythm with her. There wasn't much left to do ...but it would feel nice to finish it he supposed. Besides, he just enjoyed being with her. Their silence was always comfortable. |
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Jora felt the weight of him lean into her and didn’t pull away, just shifted slightly so her shoulder bumped his with a quiet sort of familiarity. She didn’t say anything, didn’t need to. He got it. That was the best part—he always got it. Sometimes she didn’t have the right words for what she meant, didn’t know how to explain the quiet tangle of affection and guilt and god, I’m glad you’re here that tied itself up in her chest whenever he looked at her like that. So she touched his arm, or bumped his shoulder, or just let herself sit close enough to feel his warmth. And he understood. She snorted softly when he commented on the boots, shaking her head as she lined up the next nail. “Didn’t say it’d go well, just that I’d do it,” she replied, lips twitching like she was trying not to smile. “Anyway, I’ve chewed worse. I dated you, didn’t I?” It was cheap, even for her, but she said it with a sideways glance that told him it was nothing but affection. She hadn’t expected him to come back, let alone come home and fall into this rhythm again. But he had. And even when her instinct was to deflect and make it a joke—he stayed. That meant something. Probably more than she could explain with words alone. When he snorted and mentioned being a good boy, she gave him a flat look, then lightly smacked his boot with the handle of her hammer. “Gross. Never say that again.” But her mouth curved up into a smile anyway, crooked and faint and so unmistakably hers as they slipped into that familiar rhythm again. Hammer, nail, breath, banter. Repeat. The silence that followed wasn’t empty. It was filled with the creak of wood under their knees and the occasional huff of breath, but underneath all that was something deeper. Something steadier. A kind of peace she didn’t quite know how to name—only that it had been missing for a long time, and now, sitting shoulder to shoulder with the person she’d once thought she’d never see again, it had finally come back. |
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Sage had just snickered as their banter had continued, knowing many of his comments were aoley to bug the girl. She enjoyed it though, he knew that too....if he ever started to actually annoy her, she'd let him know and he'd stop. But that never seemed to happen....she was always patient with him, whether it was something as simple as joking around or something as significant as being attached to her hip like some sort of abused puppy that had finally found a home but was still scared it would be pulled out from under it in the blink of an eye. The description wasn't too far off, he supposed. But either way, Jora was there. A steady presence that never relented or got annoyed by it. The floor didn't take long to finish, so once he'd pounded the last nail in and sat back, he let out a soft breath of air. "Not slanted," he noted with a nod of approval as he scanned the new flooring that was successfully pinned down. It looked good too....the boards had a sort of finish over them, so they weren't just raw wood. They'd stay good for a long time...which was good, since their family didn't seem to be going anywhere anytime soon. He glanced over at jora then, as she admired their hard work, gaze softening as he watched her. She really was everything to him, and it was funny how someone who he hadn't seen for years could be so important to his life. Without her, he wouldn't have had anything. He likely would have died...and he figured he'd have preferred that over continuing on the way he was before they'd run into each other again. Then she moved, and his thoughts were broken as she stood up. He rose with her, moving to slide his hand into hers and then sort of tug her towards the kitchen. He was getting hungry again. |
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Warm Dry Winds
