so fill up your lungs.

jaime cohen • thirty-six • hunter oh, something is coming, but you won't know what.

[jaime-cohen]

nora-oriley:

A smile creeps up on her face slowly, half-hearted and hollow, but there. “Mm, you’re not the first person to tell me that.” Her parents. Her friends. Herself from time to time, but it’s always been an automatic thing. Even when he didn’t deserve it and she knew he didn’t, she always had goodness to give to him. Always loved him, foolishly and recklessly so, no matter what he did or how he hurt her. The thought and how it’s still just as true now as it was then makes her uncomfortable enough to fidget with her unease where she sits. Her shoulders roll, green eyes snapping away from his as she sighs.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll — I’ll remember that.” She’s not sure she’ll do anything with the knowledge because she’s not sure she believes him fully, but she keeps that thought under wraps. “If you need to, y’know, talk about any of..this, well… I’m not goin’ anywhere.” She’s sure he can find her easily if he wants to. There’s not too many places for her to hide in this little town. Another few seconds roll by before she pushes her chair away from the table, “Think I’m gonna go,” she starts, getting to her feet slowly, “—but thanks for all this. Maybe I’ll see you around.” Of course, in a place like this she feels like that’s almost unavoidable.

He could laugh at what she says if it wasn’t such a sad thought. Jaime always knew that he wasn’t her family’s favorite person, and not a whole lot of her friends cared much for him either. It’s not like he could blame them, considering everything he had done. He’s sure that she was told a thousand times over to leave him, and even he’s not sure why she didn’t. She deserves a whole lot better than he ever was, or still is. “Yeah, I’d bet. Think you were the only person in your life who liked me.” But he says that much warmly. They were all just looking out for her. Just like he was.

Her offer comes as something of a surprise, but he takes it as a good sign. The reassurance is enough to lift a small weight off his chest. To know that she’s not against seeing him again, talking things over together, it’s more of a start than he deserves. “I’ll remember that too,” he echoes. Against his usual nature, Jaime will try his best to back off for a few days. He’s sure that Nora needs some time to think things over and having him around likely won’t help. “But yeah, ‘course. Was happy to.” He stands up, waiting to follow Nora toward the door he opens for her. “Be safe, alright? I’ll talk to you later.”

[jaime-cohen]

nora-oriley:

“A little more skill is better than nothin’, y’know? Progress is progress. I think that’s sayin’ a lot.” It’s a small achievement, but it’s still an achievement. It’s not going to come out of her mouth, but she’s proud of him for it. She’s at a loss on how to respond to his gratitude, so she nods once after a silent moment passes. “You deserved to know about your baby. Couldn’t just keep her from you.”

The thought to keep it from him did cross her mind, but ultimately she knew it would’ve just been a disservice to them both and there was no way she could’ve stayed in this town, seeing him everywhere, and not tell him something like this. She didn’t think she’d tell him so soon, but maybe it’s for the best. Setting the fork down on her plate, she sits back in the chair. “Think I’ll be alright walkin’ from here. Thanks though.”

She always used to be so supportive of him, save for the glaring issues in their relationship. All of this has him thrown so far back in time that he doesn’t know how to deal with it here in the present day. He can hardly remember how he survived the past three years without her. Words don’t even come to him, something foreign to his usually quick-thinking tongue. He just gives her a smile that sinks when she mentions their baby. Their daughter. More than anything, he hates himself for not being there for either of them. “You’ve always been too good to me,” he finally says.

It’s true, too. Nora probably knows it ,even if she wouldn’t agree. Of course she wouldn’t. She put up with so much from him. Loved him through the lies he had to tell. He won’t push her any farther than he likely already has, so he nods when she declines his offer. “Alright. But that goes for anythin’, alright? I know I’ve said it before... but if you ever need anythin’. I’m around.”

[jaime-cohen]

nora-oriley:

Her laughter is brief and quiet, more of a huffed out chuckle, but it splits her lips into a bigger smile, a futile attempt made to stunt it by biting down on her lip right after. Her gaze darts from him for half a second and her head shakes as it drifts back. “Oh, I know better than t’think ya’ turned into some kinda chef. I remember what happened whenever you were in the kitchen.” She still remembers a lot. Nora’s memory is too long and vivid and palpable when it comes to her time with him. She used to wish that it wasn’t. 

She used to want to forget it, but somewhere along the way she shifted to indifference. But right now it’s too intense to have those memories and have him two feet away from her with three lost years between them. Right now, she’s back to wanting to rid her mind of that year and a half with him. Maybe this would be easier if she could. “Well,” her shoulders shrug and she pokes at the pancakes, “..you went through all the trouble of makin’ breakfast an’ then after… everythin’ last night, I just—I didn’t feel right ‘bout just leavin’.” Even if that was her first thought.

“Nothin’ but chaos.” Much to even his mother’s chagrin, who tried to get him interested in learning how to prepare a home-cooked meal. Before his run in with the rugarus, he was a little more willing to listen and learn. After that, after being thrown into the world of supernatural, there wasn’t much else that Jaime cared about. “A little better than what I was... but that ain’t sayin’ much.” He’s much more of a fast food or easy grocery-bought meal kind of guy. Maybe that would have changed if he stayed with Nora. But he didn’t.

The reminder feels more real since he saw her again. How different could things have been? He’ll never know, and he only has himself to blame. It’s just something else he’ll have to live with, no matter how much it tears him up inside. “Don’t want you to feel obligated or nothin’, but... thank you.” Nora didn’t have to tell him a damn thing. She didn’t have to stay, she doesn’t even have to say a word to him. If she decides she doesn’t ever want to speak to him after this... well, he wouldn’t blame her. Not after everything he did. “For tellin’ me. For stayin’. All of it.” As much as he wishes he didn’t, he knows that it won’t be too long before Nora decides to get out of here. “Just let me know if you need anythin’ else after this. I could give you a ride to your place, or... anythin’.”

[jaime-cohen]

nora-oriley:

Restless fingers rake through her hair, displacing and sending the strands falling in odd directions as it’s tossed and she pretends she doesn’t notice the lack of movement from his side of the room or the weight of his stare. Her eyes stay on her plate and the fork making a jagged cut into the pancake before a piece is popped into her mouth.

Even when he sits down she doesn’t look at him and that’s nerves more than anything else. Nerves and uncertainty. This is all familiar. He’s familiar and this is how things could’ve been for them. Should’ve been for them, but this is now and not before. What should she say or do? What shouldn’t she? Nora doesn’t know how to handle being around him now and so she’s turning into herself. Retreating as much as she can without being completely removed.

His words give her a reason to emerge a little bit once again. “It tastes pretty good, too.” Her smile spreads slowly—not into fullness—but it’s passable she thinks, not too much or too little, as her gaze shifts his way and peeks at him through dark lashes. “I knew ya’d get the hang of it… eventually.” 

At least he can do something right, even if that something is a mediocre breakfast. He can rest assured that she’s had something to eat before going to work, and hell, that she doesn’t hate him enough to stay for breakfast in the first place. “Yeah, yeah... eventually.” He manages to crack a smile, but for the most part he’s making this all up as he goes. Trying his damnedest to make up for all his past mistakes, even when there’s no possible way.

“Don’t put too much faith in me, though. Still can’t cook a whole lot else.” Only a handful of recipes have made it into his head since he disappeared out of Nora’s life. Other than that, any part of him that felt domestic, that felt put together, all of it fell to the wayside. Without her in his life, nothing seemed important anymore. Now that she’s back in it, even if she’d disagree with him on that matter, everything has new meaning. “I’m just glad you decided to stick around for a little while.”

[jaime-cohen]

nora-oriley:

Nora looms behind him, praying to find a comfortable space in her own skin, but that space is nonexistent. In her body, she feels foreign. In his home, she feels like an item that just doesn’t belong. Not anymore. All of her first instincts are three years old – encroaching on his space, laying hands on his waist, rising up on her toes and dropping a kiss between his shoulder blades – it’s what she would’ve done a long time ago.  

There are countless actions she’d have taken and words she’d have spoken by now if she didn’t push aside every outdated thought and urge as they sprang up. Because exchanging jokes with him doesn’t erase all the passed time. And it isn’t meant to. She does it because she doesn’t know what else to do. She does it because any more heaviness on her back will break it, and when he smiles, she manages to keep hers in place, taking the plate he hands her.

“Um, water’s fine.” She says quietly and partially drags a chair out from under the table to sit in. “These look pretty good.” That much is said with more pride edging into her voice than teasing.

This is what life could have looked like for them. It’s a thought that haunts him, that guts him. If only he had made different decisions, if only for once in his life he made the right damn one. But it’s too late for all that. It’s too late to take back all the lies, to take back all the broken promises, or to take back the choices he made. He left her. It might be true that all he had were good intentions, but his good intentions didn’t lead either one of them to anyplace better.

It’s hard to shake all of those thoughts out of his head as he nods at her choice, moving toward the fridge and grabbing two bottles of water for the two of them. He stalls at the fridge door to look at her, seated at his kitchen table. Not once has he ever gotten over how beautiful she is, or how much he’s never deserved her.

He joins her at the table without too much delay, setting her bottle of water next to her while he takes the seat to her right. “Look pretty good, huh?” He gives her a knowing smile. “Think it’s the taste that matters most. Lemme hear it.”

[jaime-cohen]

nora-oriley:

“M’sure.” It’s just about all she’s sure about right now. There’s no telling how she’ll feel about this in retrospect, when she’s out of his presence and not drowning in so many thoughts and the reality that she’s in touching distance of him after years of being miles apart. Nora spent so long accepting this wouldn’t ever happen again. With his calloused fingers wrapped around hers, she still can’t believe it. Apart of her doesn’t want to for fear of the rug being ripped out from underneath her.

A little smile grips her lips at his accusation. She’d be lying if she said that wasn’t part of the draw to extend her stay. “You’re damn right, I do.” There’s no audible laughter, but the tease is all in the grin stretching wider on her face. She follows him, her grip on the tentative side on his hand, but she holds it even when she can let go . “Knowin’ you an’ the cookin’ skills that you have - had back then… I gotta check it out myself to believe it.”

Jaime has to bite his tongue from asking her again. His top priority right now, one that’s familiar and one that’s not going to go anywhere anytime soon, is Nora’s well being. All he wants for her are good things. He needs her to be happy and healthy, and it kills him that she doesn’t seem to be much of either of those things. Definitely not happy, and overworking herself makes him doubt how healthy she is. But at least she’s staying. At least she’s going to get some food in her. That’s all he can hope for right now.

She’s still smiling, too. It warms his heart to see her joking around with him like this, just like no time has passed. But it has. “Don’t blame you on that one. Wouldn’t believe myself neither.” Jaime shoots her a smile of his own, giving her hand a quick squeeze before he goes about making their plates. He stacks some pancakes on hers, handing it over and nodding toward the fridge. “You want anythin’ to drink? Got water, got some orange juice.”

[jaime-cohen]

nora-oriley:

Every part of her wants to melt into this moment and soak up the way it feels being so close to him again and having her hands wrapped up in his. For three years, she’s missed it. For three years, she’s missed him. No amount of pretending or lying to herself or even her anger could erase that truth and how she’s sure she’s always going to feel about him. There’s always going to be love in her heart and in her eyes and in any touches she opts to give Jaime, all of it solely for him.

Nora hates that letting herself settle into that, letting that matter, is something she can’t afford. Even what’s happening now feels like dangerous territory. And then a little smile catches his lips and he extends that offer again. Both send her creeping further into the danger zone. “I..I don’t know…” She should go for more reasons than one. Her shaking hands remind her of it. That makes her self-conscious enough to work her fingers out of his grip, fidgeting with his fingertips instead to keep some contact, but hopefully not enough that he’ll notice the tremors. She sighs. She can’t ignore how good the pancakes smell. “Maybe I’ll stay for one pancake…”

The last thing he wants to do is pressure her in any way. If she wants to get out of here, to take a moment for herself without him being right in the next room, he gets it. He’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t hope that she would stick around, even just for a half hour more, but that wouldn’t be news to either one of them. Jaime has already accepted her decision to leave before she’s half-way through her ‘I don’t know’, that he’s actually genuinely surprised when she wants to stick around.

“Yeah? You sure?” He wants to give her one more out while he can, but Nora has never been a person who doesn’t do what she wants. It helps to know that in this moment. To know that at the very least she considered staying here with him for breakfast. “You just wanna check out if I can actually make somethin’ edible?” He asks, little grin on his face while he gently grips at her fingertips as she does to his, before getting a better grip to lead them both back into the kitchen.

[jaime-cohen]

nora-oriley:

Locking her gaze with his feels like inviting the flood gates to open again. If she starts she’s afraid the pouring won’t stop, so she keeps her eyes diverted. Doing her best to ignore the almost magnetic pull to lift them to his as he towers over her. His use of that name sparks a memory of last night to life, one of her letting that slip past her lips. Her head swims and her stomach turns. What the hell was she doing? What the hell is she doing right now?  Letting his hands find her sides and rub. Placing her hands at his wrists, but neither encouraging or deflecting his actions. 

He’s saying and doing so much, her mind drags trying to sort through her own haziness and catch up to him. I still wanna be there for you. A happy accident. – A happy accident? What is he? Eighty-five years old? Something about it makes a smile creep up on her face and something close to nervousness or restlessness pushes her hands to slide up his forearms. “Well, grandpa, … reckon I can’t really stop ya’ from tryin’, now can I?” Nora’s never been good at telling him no. “Can’t promise I’m gonna always think to do that…” Why would she after all this time of not having that option? “But… if you call or text me maybe I won’t ignore you.” There’s a humorous tone in her quiet voice, but she’s just as serious as she is joking.

He slows his touch when her hands meet his wrists, but he’s surprised when she doesn’t lead him away. Jaime leaves his hands at her sides for a moment, thumbs only brushing against her before he collects her hands up in his own. Most days he can’t believe how long the two of them have been apart. Especially now when she’s right in front of him, and it feels like he’s been sent back in time. Jaime always knew seeing her again would change everything, but he never knew how much and how fast.

At least she smiles. After everything she still smiles, and it helps lift a weight off his chest. “For you, I’m always gonna try.” That’s something that’s unequivocally true. He has always tried. More than once he tried giving up the hunt in order to be someone who’s a little easier to settle down with. To be someone who’s a little easier to be with. Time and time again he tried it, going weeks, even going months. But he just couldn’t let go, not fully. “That’s all I can hope for.” Jaime adds his own smile to that, an itch in his hand that wants him to touch her face, to sweep hair behind her ear or tuck his hand under her jaw to guide her gaze back up to him. He doesn’t do any of that. “Now I get it if you don’t wanna stick around to eat, but the option’s there, alright?”

[jaime-cohen]

nora-oriley:

His hands raise to either side of her face and a wave of conflict crests high over Nora’s head, crashing down on top of her. Somehow, his words make it all worse. She’s never wanted to believe something so desperately and not want to bother with it at the same time. Something in his voice makes her think he means every word he’s saying, but she knows him. Maybe not as well as she used to, but enough to know how he works. How he’s able to say what she wants to hear, but rarely able to follow through with most of it. How he swears he wants to do better, but he just can’t.

He knew it and no matter how much she tried fooling herself, she always knew it. And she does now, too. But she finds herself still tentatively leaning into his touch to her cheek despite the way her gaze drifts away from his. She’s still softly tugging him closer. Still her knowing better doesn’t seem to stop how her body reacts. “Maybe you could, but I know what the chances look like of you lettin’ me down. And I’ve been let down so much, by… by so many –” She clips the thought, feeling like she’s about to divulge more than she wants to. “I… don’t have anymore chances to just take an’ give. I’m just… I’m tired, Jaime.”

Every bit of him aches for her, but nothing more than his heart. He wants so much to be in her life again that he doesn’t care how. He doesn’t care how long it takes, or how hard of a fight it might be to get there. Every step she tugs him closer is a reminder of how good it feels to have her in his life, to know that she’s with him. Jaime never wants to be without her again. “I know baby, I know,” he mumbles. His head ducks, and his hands smooth down to her arms, then to her sides. He rubs against the fabric there, wishing he had all the right things to say.

Truth is that he probably never did. He knew what to say, but it was rare that he could actually go through with it. Most days he wishes he could. It’s a mixture of his fear and his adrenaline that stopped him, always crushing any promises he made. “You don’t owe me a damn thing. Not even a quarter of a chance, I know.” It doesn’t stop the fact that he wishes she could manage to give him one, but it’s not fair of him to ask that of her. It’s not fair to her to have to open herself up like that when everything in their past is evidence of him ruining it all. “But I still wanna be there for you. It’ll be like a happy accident, alright?” Jaime actually smiles a little bit at that, trying to lighten something between them. “You don’t gotta trust me... or rely on me. But y’know, if you gimme a call, or text me... to lemme know how you’re doin’. I’ll be around.”

[jaime-cohen]

nora-oriley:

If only believing him were easier. If only trusting him didn’t feel like a death risk, giving him permission to shatter her and grind her into dusty nothingness. But that’s what building trust requires, doesn’t it? Taking a blind step off the ledge and tumbling; hoping and praying he’ll catch her. Until one day the nerves burn out before she steps, until all her wavering hope concretes into unquestionable knowing. And what a painfully ironic thing that is, how he loses her trust, but the one who’d risk the most in the process of him earning it back, is her.

Why would she position herself so precariously? Why should she do it for him when the last thing he did to her was leave her? With her hands still situated at his waist, she settles back and consequently coaxes him closer. “Trustin’ you feels like settin’ myself up to get hurt,” she pauses and her resolve crumbling under the weight of his gaze makes her glance down for a moment to gather some of it again. “And that’s somethin’ I don’t need and I can’t handle again from you.” Or anyone else for that matter.

He’s never been this... scared. Jaime has stared death right in the face more times than he can count, but it’s this that breaks him. The idea of losing her. The idea of failing her again. The idea that she just can’t handle him like she used to be able to. That after everything he’s done, she can’t stomach him. Nora is the only person in this world who ever loved him despite the person he is: flaws outweighing everything else. He feels like a lost cause in her hands, even when she coaxes him just another step forward.

She deserves so much better than him, and Jaime knew that from the moment he laid eyes on her. He loves her more than he can express, and maybe that love is the worst thing that could have ever happened to her. His head is telling him to back off, because this is the last thing she needs, but he can’t help himself. His hands raise to her jawline, cupping against her cheeks and drawing her gaze back up to his. “I’m not gonna fail you again, Nora. I can’t. I won’t.” His voice, as deep as it is, nearly cracks. “I know... I know you can’t trust me. But maybe I— maybe I can change that. No matter how long it takes.” 

[jaime-cohen]

nora-oriley:

“Yeah.” She whispers, punctuating the thought with a sigh. Nora’s having trouble deciphering what she wants herself beyond the scope of peace, of having everything stop. The pain, the grief, the tears, the yearning, the emptiness, the anger. Day after day it’s all there, the ghosts and phantom pains of all she’s lost, haunting her. It’s hard to see past the thick haze of it, to think further than the shadows engulfing her mind. What she knows is that there’s no part of her that loves him any less than she did three years ago. But she also knows that it means next to nothing when his actions piled layers of hurt and betrayal and distrust on top of the emotion.

It’s why her hands find his sides, her fingertips grasping gently as his wipe her cheeks, but ignores the want to pull him any closer, just keeps him at a distance. It’s why her teary-eyed gaze won’t find his. She doesn’t have any faith left to misplace. Not in him. “I know you’re sorry, an’ I know you’re sayin’ all this now, an’ maybe you even mean it right now, but I…” She can’t let herself rely on him, is what she wants to say. She can’t let herself need him – it’s all on the tip of her tongue, but it doesn’t come out. Her head just shakes instead, so slightly she’s not sure it’s even noticeable.

Right now? He knows the words shouldn’t sting like they do, but knowing doesn’t help. He also knows that he can’t expect her to have any belief in his words, not after what it got her last time, but he feels determined to prove it. Some how, some way. He owes her more than life itself. He loves her even more than that. “I mean it,” he insists. “I mean it, okay? Anythin’ you need.” Jaime’s never seen Nora like this before. He can’t stand it.

Even worse, there’s nothing he can do about it. Nothing but tell her that he’ll be here for her, three long years after she really needed him. It feels so pathetic, so hopeless. But he has to do something. His hands drop now, his grip gentle around her wrists. She’s been through hell and where’s he been? Traveling across country, hunting things down, and... god knows what else. He hates himself for all of this, can’t stand a second of it. “Know you got no reason to trust me, but I’m  here. I can help, I can try.”

[jaime-cohen]

nora-oriley:

“Guess that depends on what ya’ want.” But hell, she doesn’t know where to go either. When it comes to losing Emma, she still feels like she’s stuck in the same place she was when it happened, never moving too far, if she moves ahead at all, before she’s yanked right back to where she started from. There’s always a deep ache. Her heart’s always wrenching in her chest and there’s always a void. She’s always feeling empty. Always broken. It’s what leads her to reaching for whatever drink she can find. Trying to fill up the cracks, drown herself until she’s numb.

And now, piling on the thought of the two of them, having Jaime standing in front of her, asking questions she doesn’t want to answer, every conflicting emotion for him and every hard thought about the baby, all crashing into each other like a car wreck over her head – the tremor shoots through her hands. The one begging her to burn her throat and drown it all. She curls her fingers up into a fist hoping to suppress it.

The trade off is letting the tears well up and fall without intervention. She’d rather him witness that than the beginning effects of withdrawal. Withdrawal. There’s a long moment of silence, a moment of her mulling over that truth and then looping back to his question, sighing quietly. “Yeah, I - I was okay. Am okay. It, um, it was a placental abruption during labor. They didn’t realize it had happened until after… everythin’.”

What he wants almost feels like a joke. Jaime doesn’t know what he wants. He doesn’t know where to go, or what to do. He doesn’t know what to do with this, the heaviness looming over top of them. A death between them. One that links them even further than before. He takes a breath to steady himself, hand rubbing over his face. “I don’t know that neither.” He wants Nora to be okay. He wants her to be happy. He wants her to experience every god damn good thing that she deserves.

Instead she gets what? His abandonment and their daughter’s death? He doesn’t know what to do with the emotions that build, either. The anger, the sorrow, the uncertainty. It overwhelms and swallows. So do her words, two little words that explain the death of their daughter. How can it be just that? Two words?

“I’m sorry.” His voice is low, two words of his own that don’t begin to cover it, and he wants to reach for her. All he does is keep his eyes on her, soft and focused and undeniably sorry for everything he’s caused. Jaime wants to believe that his being there might have changed things. Maybe something could have been different along the way that prevented it from happening. “I’m sorry,” he repeats. He finally takes his step toward her, tucking some hair away from her face, and taking care to wipe the lingering wetness on her cheeks. “I hate that I wasn’t there. I hate that I...” He pauses to shake his head, the disdain he’s always had for himself rushing right back to greet him. “That I left, that I’m just...” This, he wants to say. Himself. He doesn’t. “But I meant what I said last night. I ain’t goin’ nowhere, okay? If you need me... for anythin’. I don’t care what it is.”

[jaime-cohen]

nora-oriley:

“You’re not goin’ to.” She’s not planning on giving him the opportunity to get close enough to do that type of damage. “I dunno either…” All of this is territory she never thought she’d have to enter because she never thought she’d see him again, but here they are. Neither of them sure where to go from here. “But maybe sometimes there’s just nothin’ to be done. Sometimes the way it is, is just how it’s gonna be. How it has to be.” 

She’s had three years to swallow that bitter pill. Three years of wanting to change or do something about things that she couldn’t change or do anything about. He left and that was his choice, something Nora couldn’t change. Their daughter didn’t make it and as much as she feels like it’s her fault, in the back of her mind, she knows that it was all out of her hands. She couldn’t change what happened then and she can’t now. 

“And I know that’s hard to accept. There’s… a lot’a things I’m still strugglin’ to try and accept.” Taking a small step back, she leans against the counter and wipes away the tear beginning to roll down her cheek before looking up at him. “But I’m tryin’.”

If there’s anything he hates, it’s that. Doing nothing. Being able to do nothing. He’s tried to live his life in such a way that nothing is completely out of his hands, but this? He can’t touch this. He can’t help any of it, can’t change or save any of it. It burns through him.

Rooted in place, he just listens and watches. Tries to grasp her words, but feels unconvinced when her tears start to fall. How can he accept this? How can he begin? “I just don’t know... where to go from here.” His whole world erupted without his knowing. How can he pick up pieces that are so far gone?

He lets himself fall silent again, trying to roll some tension out of his shoulders. He can’t think. “How’d it...” His breath is already knocked out of him, and he can feel his head pound. “How’d it— how’d it happen? Were you— are you okay?” Physically he means, knowing that the trauma goes way past emotional.

[jaime-cohen]

nora-oriley:

“You made chocolate chip pancakes? Never thought I’d see the day.” She let’s the thought carve a small smile out on her face, but it fades almost as quickly as it comes. It’s odd being tugged between the past and the present. Feeling comfortable and out of place in his presence. It’s odd having two hands wanting to reach for him and two legs aching to cut her distance from him, but a mind trying to keep her still. It reminds her it’s no longer her place to console or reassure him in that way, but it’s unable to work out an alternative reaction. She hates not knowing how to exist in the same space with him or what to do with her hands or what to say. 

And when he hands the plate to her, Nora sets it down, stalling in front of the counter before deciding to step closer to him. Her fingers graze his arm. It feels like it’s too much and not enough, and she sighs, taking her time to say anything.  “You an’ me, I… I dunno if that’s ever gonna…” She pauses, pressing her gaze down toward the ground and letting out a shaky breath. “I dunno. But I… I wouldn’t tell you somethin’ like that an’ then just leave you to deal with it alone.” In spite of what he did, she couldn’t do that. That’s not something she has in her. “An’ I don’t know if you wanna talk about her or anythin’, but I’m here.” And she will be here. Even if it’s difficult and it hurts. She’ll do it. She’ll try for him. “…Not gonna just disappear on you.” 

Her smile doesn’t last as long as he would have hoped, but the memory does. Of her, and their life together. Him in the kitchen has always been a risk, and no one knows that better than Nora. There’s a lot they don’t know about each other again. More than he ever would have thought. They shared a child together, even if she didn’t make it. The idea just cements his need to keep her close. “Yeah, me neither.”

Despite everything being set, Jaime is just as hesitant as she seems. He doesn’t move along like this is just another breakfast, because it isn’t. Furthest thing from. The ghost of Nora’s touch against him proves that, even more so does her voice. Every word breaks his heart worse and worse, but he tries not to let that look get across. “Yeah, I get it... I do.” After what he did, after what happened in between, how could he think that he could just insert himself back into her life? Then again, that’s not far out of his character to try something like that.

‘Not gonna disappear on you’ gets to him, and it sure as hell shouldn’t. It’s what he did to her. He deserves to be deserted by her.  “I don’t wanna make anything harder on you or worse than I already have.” His tone is still so low it’s probably half-hard to heard. “I just... I don’t know. I dunno what to do.”

[jaime-cohen]

nora-oriley:

The minute the question staggered out of her mouth, she wanted to retract it. Exchange it for something lighter, something easier to contend with. In the short bout of time he takes in rumination, she flirts with the idea of trying to shift gears, but he answers before she can. It’s nothing less than what she expects. She knows all too well how it feels to sit with the weight of this. To try to settle with the loss and know that the ache in your chest and the pressure bearing down on top of it will always live there. 

She can feel it now, the way her heart keeps breaking a million times over. It never stops.

“Yeah, I… I know.” She finally whispers, swallowing down the lump in her throat and snapping her gaze down to the ground when she feels that stinging swell up behind her eyes. Not now, she thinks, taking a deep breath and looking up at him again. “– Hungry?” Her stomach rolls in protest at the idea of eating anything, but she nods once anyway. “I should probably eat, yeah.” She can’t even remember the last time she did. “What did you make?”

Despite how hard he tries, Jaime can’t stop thinking about how different things could be. Their worlds could be nothing like the one they are fighting through had he made different decisions, and maybe for once in his godforsaken life, made the right choice. Where would they be if he had? How different would they be? Would the shine in Nora’s eyes be from joy, rather than the tears that glimmer through?

He doesn’t know if he can stand any of this, but he has to try. For her, he has to try. For her, he’ll do anything. Through it all, he manages to crack a small smile in the hope that he can get one in return. “Pancakes. Chocolate chip. Learned a thing or two.” Or two is really the extent of it, but pancakes is something he can manage these days. “Don’t expect you to stick around or nothin’...” His voice falls toward being a sigh, and Jaime moves to grab a plate to hand to her. “Just wanted to make sure you ate, y’know.”

[jaime-cohen]

nora-oriley:

Even after waking up to sunlight burning the backs of her eyelids, all of her sleepy-headed wriggling in foreign sheets, and slowly piecing together the bleary memories of the night before, building up the strength to walk out of the room took longer than she’d have liked. 

Because her eyes were puffy and red-rimmed and kept getting worse as every second of the night before began to crystallize and play on a loop in her head. The expression carved into Jaime’s face when she told him, his words, his tears, his grief - it was branded at the forefront of her mind and the thought of facing him, of facing anymore of this, makes her stomach churn. 

But avoidance isn’t an option. Not now. So ignoring the urge to try to slip past him and out the front door, she finds him in the kitchen, electing to linger by the entryway. “Hey.” She says and shifts uneasily, unsure of what to even say to him right now, but settling for a quiet, “…How’re you?” 

He couldn’t sleep. His night was made of pacing, of regret, was made of anger and sadness. All of it still feels like a knot in his chest, but what can he do? His daughter is dead. She never had a chance to be anything but. He can’t bring her back, and he can’t soothe Nora’s pain. Not just from what he’s done, but from that loss. The one she had to experience alone.

The thought of that, the thought of all of it, has haunted him since he heard it. It will haunt him for the rest of his life. Second to that are all of his what-ifs, and all the good they do. They just replay over and over in his head while he finally puts himself to use enough to make some breakfast for them both. Jaime doesn’t expect Nora to stick around long after she wakes up, but at least he’s doing something.

He’s just about done making chocolate chip pancakes when he hears Nora’s voice from just behind him. He turns to look and switches the stove off at the same time, getting everything settled so that his attention is only hers. “Hey,” he says back, tone quiet. Her question is a loaded one and he takes a second to actually get any words out. “I’m... y’know.” He doesn’t have any words for it. A part of him is still trying to accept it. “You hungry?”

[jaime-cohen]

nora-oriley:

The atmosphere is heavy enough without delving further and pressing for his reasons. Knowing his mindset and what drove him into burning rubber on the road, never once glancing back into his rear-view won’t change what is. Or what was. So when he does explain himself, in a way that doesn’t tell her anymore than she already knows, Nora maintains her predetermined choice not to start a back and forth with him. She doesn’t bother saying anything at all to that.

She’s too tired to even risk starting up another hard conversation. She’s cried herself into total exhaustion. The soft thumping sound of his heart and his fingers dragging through her hair only coax her into finally letting her eyes close. She wants to believe him, but what reason has he given her to be able to? Her lips part, a quiet breath coming before her words do. “– Don’t think m’goin’ anywhere either.” At least not right now.

He holds her for a long time. Long enough that he doesn’t know how late it is, and he doesn’t even bother trying to find out. Her breathing is slow and even, and Jaime’s pretty certain that she fell asleep. He probably did too, a couple times. A couple minutes here or there, half asleep on his couch with her in his arms. His eyes are tired and raw from tears. Jaime doesn’t remember the last time he was this exhausted.

At some point during the night, he knows he needs to move them. Nora’s still sleeping, but if she’s as light of a sleeper as she used to be, he’s not sure if he’ll get away with moving her to his bed. He does it anyway. As gently and quietly as he can, he gathers her up in his arms so he can lift her up when he stands. He wants her to get comfortable and sleep until she can’t anymore, and he knows that won’t be as easy on the couch as it will be in his bedroom. He’s got no plans of laying beside her, so he doesn’t. He just sets her down in his bed, pulling blankets over her and rethinking every god damn choice he’s ever made.

If he could ever do things over, he’d do it. But he can’t. All he can do is kiss her on the temple, and close the door behind him.