[ yes. but if she shuts her eyes, the room somehow spins more wildly than when she's actually looking at it and disturbing the liquid contents of her stomach is sure to send them back up. it's best to stay upright for now. with a temporary handle on the room's orientation, she looks over to him, from his knees at her eye level and then up to his goddamn open book of a face. oh right, she's putting him out. ]
"Not tired anymore. Gonna make coffee." He can't stare at her anymore without feeling some type of way, so he stops at his box of clothes that he really should fucking get drawers for or something and pulls on a shirt before wandering into the kitchen to do what he said.
Edited (oops i surprosed u ) 2018-01-14 06:57 (UTC)
[ coffee sounds fucking great. asshole. Jess leans her head against the wall and keeps her eyes on the spot he was standing, watching thoughts partially form, disperse, and their remnants do the same. or those are the usual spots and blurs in her vision that she's accustomed to ignoring 99% of the time. yeah, it's too pretty a distraction to be the former.
once her fingertips are no warmer than the rest of her hands, she peels off her gloves and vigorously rubs them together. it's dull and dizzying to watch and her gaze wanders over to his bed. unmade, it reminds her he was tucked into it a minute ago. it's a piece of crap, one step up from a cot, and it looks nefariously inviting with the blanket thrown back. Jess grabs her liquor by the neck and drowns the urge to go and rest her head on it. ]
[ he puts the coffee on expediently and starts poking through his fridge for leftovers. whenever she's with it enough to notice, there's also a tin bowl of water on the floor in here. frank leans against his counter and stares as a single orchid petal detaches itself from a flower and floats to his table top. elektra's words seem especially relevant now. it doesn't matter as long as you're together. this couldn't have been what she meant. could it?
frank stays that way until there's enough liquid in the carafe for both of them. here goes nothing. he pours them each a cup, hers is little more than half full and her cup says Alaska on the front with a happy doodle of a penguin. all but forcing himself back into the room, he moves to sit by (but not close to) her on the floor and hands it over. ]
[ she makes a game of guessing what he's doing depending on the sounds that come from the kitchen. in the long pause where it's only the drip of water filtering through the grounds, she works her jacket off without ever fully sitting up. the friction from her inelegant wiggling crams her scarf full of static that crackles when she pulls it free of her hair. by the time they're in a pile beside her, she feels more heated from the struggle than the room. hairs are still adhering to her fingers with mild electricity as she swipes them from her cheeks and mouth. ]
Decaf? [ she asks instead of thanking him, grateful as she is. really more grateful than a cup of coffee should make her feel but the coffee's all she's capable of looking at right this second, so it's the coffee's fault. for how much she missed the coffee. ]
No. [ he leans his head back against the wall and watches her, feeling like it's through binaculars instead of a foot in front of him. he sets his cup on his knee as he waits for it to cool down a little. he feels pleasantly drowsy now that he isn't asleep, but he's definitely not risking another dream with her around so awake it is. ]
[ she was kidding, or maybe she wasn't. she ventures a glance at his window but can't suss shit from the deep grey of snow plummeting through smog. it's night, that's for sure, the same one as the last time she checked, and that's not nothing. ]
What time is it? [ Jess finds the handle of the mug and slips her fingers through, covering the top with her other hand so the steam beats against her palm. ]
[ he left his phone plugged in and he hadn't bothered to internalize the numbers on his ancient coffee maker so he hazards a guess. ] 400-ish. [ maybe 4:15, 4:30. something like that. he decides to just come out and ask: ] Is someone looking for you?
[ she cringes gently, not at the data but at his delivery of it. at least there wasn't an "oh" in front of it. ]
What? [ she heard and understood him perfectly. it's a stalling tactic to get her words in order, try and prevent them from skidding into each other ] No. Fighting with my sister.
[ who shouldn't be driving home in this weather anyway so now Jess is starting to hope she is there, as obnoxious and overbearing as it would be. ]
[ he knows she understood so he waits her out. he's learning about so many family connections lately!!! ] Didn't know you had a sister.
[ not like that matters right now, but he's just saying. there's an edge of tired bemusement to the words. frank has the same thought about the weather, honestly, but he's mostly just relieved it's not someone he should be worried about. ]
[ how did he not know that? what a shit P.I. he'd make. she can almost work up something like a smile over it. thankfully, he takes care of that with his next comment. he's right, jagoff. Trish is probably asleep but there's every chance she's not, considering the hell Jess had to put her through when she went missing. reluctantly, Jess digs around in her jacket until she hits upon the right pocket, then retrieves her phone and tosses it the short distance to him. ]
You do it. [ her head lolls his way. ] Don't say who it is. I don't need you two talking to each other.
[ every time he tried to make progress on getting to know her through the internet... like people apparently do these days, he'd shut himself down. it felt like prying, even if she was as near to a public figure as himself. it should be ironic, that stalking her isn't, but hey. whatever.
when she starts digging around for her phone, he puts his coffee cup down. he's glad he does when a second later it's being thrown at him. all the recent messages are from trish, and only then do the pieces fit. trish, on the radio. he had seen them together once, extremely briefly when he'd followed her those couple of weeks. frank opens up their text conversation and overrides his human instinct to snoop. he sends something suitably snarky but also hopefully reassuring so trish doesn't think anyone has commandeered her phone.
he sets it down between them on the floor and picks up his coffee to take his first sip. it tastes better than it ought to. ] There's food, if you want some.
[ Jess didn't intend it as a test when she saddled him with the task but of course he passed. she turns the phone towards her, gives up on reading the messages without adjusting the brightness (too much work) and turns it off with a simple button press, then leaves it on the floor. ]
You got real food? [ she won't trust anything to stay down, even this coffee, so she's not asking for herself. ]
[ that gets a smile. tiny, but genuine. he takes another sip before tipping his temple back against the wall, holding his apparently favored indiania hoosiers mug with a chip in the top with a vice grip. ]
I've been cooking. [ he likes cooking, which is part of why he'd deprived himself of it before. the other issue was never having someone to cook for, at least until he realized there was one person he could count on to show up at meal time. and he doesn't just mean elektra's dog.
he's figured out that she's too far gone to want anything, and he would never expect her to ask for it even if she did. so frank settles there for the moment, content to stay here indefinitely. ]
[ he could be doing it for himself but she suspects he's doing it for company too. no point in asking who; if she wanted to know, she could have found out by now. ]
What do you cook. [ usually, she would count survivalist crap like canned beans and just-add-water rations but now that she knows how terrible they can be, and that he'll eat them anyway, she's raised the standard a skosh. ]
Lots of things. What do you like to eat? [ he turns it on her just because, fixing that barely-there smile on her. but he's relenting soon enough if only because he always does. ] I made Kabuli palaw earlier, it's in the fridge.
[ she scoffs at his brag even though he backs it up with a dish she's never heard of. doesn't sound particularly fancy, either, but it's a serious leap from boiled chunks of pasta in an aluminum sleeve. fucking show-off. he can cook for her over her dead body. ]
God, screw you. [ she's inspired to elaborate but the coffee gives her something else to do with her mouth, blowing steam from it and venturing a sip ]
[ it's a trip to the grocery store or, god forbid, farmers market and she does most of her shopping at the corner store. and then there's cooking, who has time for that. Trish. Malcolm. and now him. it's like some kinda conspiracy.
Jess finally notices the space he left for her liquor when it takes a moment to reach her lips. she sets it back down without having any and reaches for her bottle ]
Maybe. [ he isn't and it's clear by his tone (and the lack of anything even vaguely booze shaped in this place. other than the stuff she brought.) hair of the dog seems like exactly what she needs right now so he says nothing when she utilizes his considerate gap for liquor. ] Less fun without you, though.
[ he's obviously not talking about getting wasted anymore, and it rings a little too true to be a dig. he really is such an asshole. ]
[ Jess's pouring isn't perfect but liquor only escapes the transfer in droplets and a line trickling down the side of her mug, which she swipes off with a finger and sucks clean. ]
Maybe. [ she echoes, then has a gulp of her poorly proportioned and thoroughly unmixed drink and puts the back of her hand to her mouth as she swallows. it will stay down. it has to. ]
[ he just watches her in preparation for it not staying down. he doesn't think he's ever seen her this drunk before and it's strangely... fascinating. that could just be the late hour and sleep deprivation, honestly. he isn't processing much of anything quickly or well. frank takes a long sip of his coffee to stall.
words claw up his throat that he knows she won't accept. i missed you at the forefront of the pack. she's all he thinks about most of the day anymore, and all of the night. what is he supposed to do when she just goes radio silent for ages like that? he thought they were over that stage in their relationship but apparently not. do they even have a relationship? he's starting to feel like the drunk one the more his thoughts wage war on him. he has to say something if only to silence the voices in his head. ]
Why did you come here, Jess? [ it's soft. a tone usually reserved for just her. he looks like he could fall asleep right here, but he's resisting with everything he has. ]
[ Jess manages to wrestle it down though it takes the better part of a minute and feels much longer than that. but all that means is that the second sip can't be worse, immunizing her to discouragement. she can't believe he's still watching her. beyond that, she doesn't mind with a veil of whiskey thrown over her eyes. it's all the same when she's focusing on the coffee in her cup; and that's relaxing, almost, since normally she can still sense it. ]
Trish can't see me like this. [ she hears the words in her head and in the air the same time, yet she also feels the distinct pause in between thinking and speaking, and lurches forward anyway. it surpasses unfair to foist her alcoholic ass on a recovered addict, not to mention it's shitty and reductive of Jess to think of her that way, and neatly tying it together are the inescapable comparisons they may draw, however involuntarily, between Jess's before and after. with Frank there's a little less to avoid dealing with. ] I came to fuck with you instead.
[ his forehead creases when she finally speaks, a tiny involuntary sigh pushing out from between his lips. it really was stupid that he didn't know... that he still doesn't know, so much about her. they both just love torturing themselves, and as a result, each other.
frank nods in dumb acceptance of her proposal, his head thumping against the wall audibly once. this is going to be an even longer night than it already had been, and yet he'd rather be here than anywhere else. ] Okay. Give it your best shot.
How sturdy's that couch? [ the deeply private darkness of her humour slashes a sliver a grin into the edges of her mouth and she swirls her mug very carefully. it can't be expensive, she's certain of that, so she won't feel guilty about not paying to replace it in the extremely probable case that she breaks it. her dreams are going to be vivid as fuck with Frank's presence fully refreshed in her mind and haloed in an alcohol haze. coffee is her last chance to get out of sleeping. aware it will fail her, she tries to get as much down as possible, gulping twice.
Jess can tell immediately that she's made a mistake and scrambles to her feet, using the wall as support. she waves vaguely in Frank's direction to assuage his doubtless concern, hears her boot knock over the O'Harren's, keeps rushing until the bathroom door clatters closed behind her and she's retching into the toilet. mostly. into the toilet. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ yes. but if she shuts her eyes, the room somehow spins more wildly than when she's actually looking at it and disturbing the liquid contents of her stomach is sure to send them back up. it's best to stay upright for now. with a temporary handle on the room's orientation, she looks over to him, from his knees at her eye level and then up to his goddamn open book of a face. oh right, she's putting him out. ]
Go back to sled-- to bed. Take the bed.
no subject
no subject
once her fingertips are no warmer than the rest of her hands, she peels off her gloves and vigorously rubs them together. it's dull and dizzying to watch and her gaze wanders over to his bed. unmade, it reminds her he was tucked into it a minute ago. it's a piece of crap, one step up from a cot, and it looks nefariously inviting with the blanket thrown back. Jess grabs her liquor by the neck and drowns the urge to go and rest her head on it. ]
no subject
frank stays that way until there's enough liquid in the carafe for both of them. here goes nothing. he pours them each a cup, hers is little more than half full and her cup says Alaska on the front with a happy doodle of a penguin. all but forcing himself back into the room, he moves to sit by (but not close to) her on the floor and hands it over. ]
no subject
Decaf? [ she asks instead of thanking him, grateful as she is. really more grateful than a cup of coffee should make her feel but the coffee's all she's capable of looking at right this second, so it's the coffee's fault. for how much she missed the coffee. ]
no subject
no subject
What time is it? [ Jess finds the handle of the mug and slips her fingers through, covering the top with her other hand so the steam beats against her palm. ]
no subject
no subject
What? [ she heard and understood him perfectly. it's a stalling tactic to get her words in order, try and prevent them from skidding into each other ] No. Fighting with my sister.
[ who shouldn't be driving home in this weather anyway so now Jess is starting to hope she is there, as obnoxious and overbearing as it would be. ]
no subject
[ not like that matters right now, but he's just saying. there's an edge of tired bemusement to the words. frank has the same thought about the weather, honestly, but he's mostly just relieved it's not someone he should be worried about. ]
You should tell her you're safe.
no subject
You do it. [ her head lolls his way. ] Don't say who it is. I don't need you two talking to each other.
no subject
when she starts digging around for her phone, he puts his coffee cup down. he's glad he does when a second later it's being thrown at him. all the recent messages are from trish, and only then do the pieces fit. trish, on the radio. he had seen them together once, extremely briefly when he'd followed her those couple of weeks. frank opens up their text conversation and overrides his human instinct to snoop. he sends something suitably snarky but also hopefully reassuring so trish doesn't think anyone has commandeered her phone.
he sets it down between them on the floor and picks up his coffee to take his first sip. it tastes better than it ought to. ] There's food, if you want some.
no subject
You got real food? [ she won't trust anything to stay down, even this coffee, so she's not asking for herself. ]
no subject
I've been cooking. [ he likes cooking, which is part of why he'd deprived himself of it before. the other issue was never having someone to cook for, at least until he realized there was one person he could count on to show up at meal time. and he doesn't just mean elektra's dog.
he's figured out that she's too far gone to want anything, and he would never expect her to ask for it even if she did. so frank settles there for the moment, content to stay here indefinitely. ]
no subject
What do you cook. [ usually, she would count survivalist crap like canned beans and just-add-water rations but now that she knows how terrible they can be, and that he'll eat them anyway, she's raised the standard a skosh. ]
no subject
no subject
God, screw you. [ she's inspired to elaborate but the coffee gives her something else to do with her mouth, blowing steam from it and venturing a sip ]
no subject
It's rice and lamb with raisins and carrots. Good hangover food. [ technically it's already cooked so he didn't cook it for her!!!!! god. ]
no subject
Jess finally notices the space he left for her liquor when it takes a moment to reach her lips. she sets it back down without having any and reaches for her bottle ]
Yeah? Been getting drunk without me?
no subject
[ he's obviously not talking about getting wasted anymore, and it rings a little too true to be a dig. he really is such an asshole. ]
no subject
Maybe. [ she echoes, then has a gulp of her poorly proportioned and thoroughly unmixed drink and puts the back of her hand to her mouth as she swallows. it will stay down. it has to. ]
no subject
words claw up his throat that he knows she won't accept. i missed you at the forefront of the pack. she's all he thinks about most of the day anymore, and all of the night. what is he supposed to do when she just goes radio silent for ages like that? he thought they were over that stage in their relationship but apparently not. do they even have a relationship? he's starting to feel like the drunk one the more his thoughts wage war on him. he has to say something if only to silence the voices in his head. ]
Why did you come here, Jess? [ it's soft. a tone usually reserved for just her. he looks like he could fall asleep right here, but he's resisting with everything he has. ]
no subject
Trish can't see me like this. [ she hears the words in her head and in the air the same time, yet she also feels the distinct pause in between thinking and speaking, and lurches forward anyway. it surpasses unfair to foist her alcoholic ass on a recovered addict, not to mention it's shitty and reductive of Jess to think of her that way, and neatly tying it together are the inescapable comparisons they may draw, however involuntarily, between Jess's before and after. with Frank there's a little less to avoid dealing with. ] I came to fuck with you instead.
no subject
frank nods in dumb acceptance of her proposal, his head thumping against the wall audibly once. this is going to be an even longer night than it already had been, and yet he'd rather be here than anywhere else. ] Okay. Give it your best shot.
no subject
Jess can tell immediately that she's made a mistake and scrambles to her feet, using the wall as support. she waves vaguely in Frank's direction to assuage his doubtless concern, hears her boot knock over the O'Harren's, keeps rushing until the bathroom door clatters closed behind her and she's retching into the toilet. mostly. into the toilet. ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
are you ready to take this to turbo cute because it's boyfriend shirt time
um HALE YEA who do you take me for huh
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)