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[hebeimmortalized]

It's been snowy, cold and gross outside in a way Jille's not accustomed to. She sits on the couch with her sketchbook and a handful of mismatched colored pencils. The case itself is somewhere. Right now, she just wants these colors. The judgemental cat is sitting in the window, and he's backlit by the white everywhere outside, and she's drawing his shape, crosshatching and shading and generally avoiding solid lines if she can help it.

She looks up when someone enters the room, even though she doesn't have to. She knows by the footfalls that it's Jack. She smiles when she sees him and flips her book closed — it's just as well. The judgemental cat has jumped down from the sill and is leaving the room.

"Hey, you," she says warmly.

Comments

[hebeimmortalized]

She feels the need to move, to escape, to get away. But this is Jack, and she can't do that. So she pulls at her cigarette again. "What d'you want me to say?" she asks.

[rockabillyboy]

"I don't know, Jillie," he says, softly. "But we used to be able to talk about anything, didn't we? You're still the person I trust most in the whole world."

[hebeimmortalized]

"I know, I know," she sighs. "Jack, I'm— I'm fucked up, okay? No one's gonna want me, not— not the way you and Poison want each other." She shrugs, smoking her cigarette down to the filter.

[rockabillyboy]

"That's total shit," he says, the curse word uncharacteristic but called for, right then. "Look, Jillie, I'll admit it, I used to think that. I used to be scared that there was no way you'd have a normal life. But look at you. You're do so freaking well." He raises an eyebrow. "The way Poison and I want each other?"

[hebeimmortalized]

She shakes her head, lighting up another cigarette. "Yeah. You and P have the shit stories are made of." She shrugs. "Someone's gonna spend a week with me and run screaming in the other direction."

[rockabillyboy]

"Jesus Christ," says Jack, rolling his eyes. "You're beautiful. You're clever. You're interesting. If they're not into that? That's their loss."

[hebeimmortalized]

"I'm not denying any of that," she insists. "I'm also just pointing out that I'm broken and pretty high maintenance and most sane people won't want to handle that. Or be able to."

[rockabillyboy]

"Someone will step up," he says, and he says it because he believes it, completely and utterly. "On paper, you're not the different from Poison. He'd be the first one to tell you he's got a lot of really, really sharp edges."

[hebeimmortalized]

"So what I'm hearing is, someone just needs to clone you, huh?" she says. The urge to pace has finally faded, and she's smoking a little more slowly now, but she still feels tense.

[rockabillyboy]

"Or Krem," says Jack, huffing a laugh. "I think, maybe, that's why I was so drawn to Poison at first. And Kavinsky. They remind me of you."

[hebeimmortalized]

She looks over at him, fond and soft for a moment before she scoffs. "You're fucked up," she teases. She is, too, whatever.

[rockabillyboy]

He shakes his head, laughing.

"Nope. Just drawn to what I know," he says, laughing. "Windy days in people shape."

[hebeimmortalized]

"Aren't we all," she murmurs. She finishes her cigarette, and doesn't light another. This time, she makes her way to the window and props it open to air out the room, even though it's fucking cold out.

"In the summer, I'll start smoking outside," she declares. "And maybe by winter, I'll quit." Baby steps.

[rockabillyboy]

"Whatever you need, Jillie," he says, smiling. "You know. When you weren't here, I used to like it when Poison smoked, sometimes, because it meant I didn't miss you as much. Is that really ridiculous?"

[hebeimmortalized]

"It's really fucking corny," she says with a small smile. "But I guess not so ridiculous." She tilts her head a little, sitting by the window as if she wants to air herself out.

[rockabillyboy]

"What shall we have for dinner?" he asks. "Something really gross and bad for us?"

On 16 March 2017 at 14:10, hebeimmortalized - DW Comment < dw_null@dreamwidth.org> wrote:

[hebeimmortalized]

"Cookie dough it is," she agrees with a laugh. She's not serious — mostly — but it sounds pretty epic and also bad for them.

[rockabillyboy]

"That sounds amazing," he says. "I mean, I'll have to run my route twice tomorrow, but..."

[hebeimmortalized]

She grins and shrugs. "Worth it, right?" she teases.

"Maybe we can do something a little healthier, though. Still gross and bad for us, but not, like, cookie dough bad." She considers, then says, "Nachos?"

[rockabillyboy]

"Yeah, probably worth it," he says. "But I teach yoga, Jillie. There's a certain expectation. Those soccer moms aren't going to come class if I can't touch my toes." He nods. "Nachos. Definitely."

[hebeimmortalized]

"Fucking nachos," she says triumphantly. She closes the window and grabs his hand so they can go to the kitchen together.

[rockabillyboy]

Laughing, Jack lets her tug him with her into the kitchen.

"Are you making them or am I?"

[hebeimmortalized]

"Yes," she says, even though it hadn't been a yes-or-no question. She grins back at him and starts looking through the cupboards for the ingredients to make a plate of nachos large enough for everyone.

[rockabillyboy]

Jack perches on the edge of the counter and watches her pottering around the kitchen. He loves it when she looks whole and healthy like this, even if it's not constant, even if it's still a work in progress.