Get Right | Ginny & Joaquin
profginnycho:
The night he mentioned felt so long ago, another bittersweet memory that she’d tried desperately to let go of after he’d left. But she couldn’t, the images he painted still vivid in her thoughts. She recalled having bumped into him earlier that day, the conversation shared between the pair and how wide her smile had been when their paths had crossed once more, though she’d tried to rein it in. He was a stranger, after all, and she wanted to play it cool, unsure if the chemistry she’d felt was merely one sided. It hadn’t been, she’d come to realize, as he took up the stool beside her and easily stolen her time. They’d laughed over bad jokes and poorly told lines and left with his hand pressed lightly against her back as he walked her home. She remembered what came next, how they’d lingered outside her door for a little while before she’d finally let him in, how it was out of character and unexpected, but comfortable, like she’d known him for much longer. He’d spent the night that evening, their clothes littering her new apartment’s floor, the memory of which reddened her cheeks as she finished up his tie, her hands falling from his form. “His dancing hadn’t been that bad,” she offered weakly, biting back a smile. “He was sweet. I was just a little preoccupied that night…distracted maybe.”
“People usually don’t do well when talking about their accomplishments. They get excited and it can come off terribly. He might have good intentions, but they get overshadowed by poor diction.” His speech was still quicker than it should have been, the behavior making her torn. The situation had made him nervous; the strangers and small talk, but she wondered if her presence had added to his growing anxiety, if what once helped calm him down only made matters worse. Straightening his tie would always reassure him, the small gesture serving as a way to show that she was there, present and able to assist, but maybe the familiarity only kick started the butterflies he was feeling now, sending them into overdrive. “If you can get all of those things on paper, you might have a best seller on your hands.” A pause, a few beats of silence passing between them as she studied the now straightened tie before glancing up to meet his eyes. “Should I not have done that?” she questioned curiously, wondering if it’d crossed a line.
This was harder than she’d expected, growing more so at every comment passed between them. She wanted to engage in the conversation, ask how and where he’d been, make jokes about their peers’ terrible music taste, but would doing so be a mistake? It was too soon to tell. His offer to grab a drink was something she should have immediately refuted, said that it was too much, that it wasn’t something she was ready for even if it seemed harmless. But maybe the drink would make this easy, would make her capable of stomaching this outing and the idea of him being back. “Are you trying to get me drunk, Ortega?” she asked jokingly, her feet moving towards the makeshift bar. But maybe a drink would make this too easy, would make her forget her anger, fear and concerns as she slowly let him back in. “I’ll take a glass of whatever red you have,” she requested of the bartender, turning to Joaquin after he’d given his order. “Let’s say you reconsider the band, what would you call it?”
“No, no it was...perfect. Now I look like I’m decently put together.” He smiled softly, wishing his tie was crooked again so she could fix it. As far as he was concerned, there was no one else in the room at the moment. Just her, looking beautiful in her dress, looking at him with eyes that broke his heart. Every time he looked at her he remembered so many of their moments, so many of their firsts. The first time they had said I love you, the first time they had come to one of these parties, the first time they had slept together and he had looked at her like she held the entire world in her hands. It was how he was looking at her now but it was undercut with a notion of him begging for forgiveness. The past few weeks in Rockford had been hard on his mind, hardest on the nights when he realized she was closer than she had been in years yet still so far away from him. It was a strange feeling knowing that the only person responsible for him losing his mind was himself. He knew she’d be disappointed in how much of a mess he was, in how much he had relied on her for his emotional stability. It was something he was trying to forget and looking at her now he could do it for a quick moment, he could pretend that he wasn’t the villain in her story.
He laughed softly and nodded. “More like trying to get myself drunk but I’d be happy to have you join me,” he joked as he followed her towards the bar and immediately ordered a beer after she did. “Oh man, you know I’m the worst with titles, reina,” he replied, the nickname rolling off his tongue all too easily as if he they were picking up on a conversation they were having the moment before. Even after years apart, talking to her was both the hardest and easiest thing for him. There was no one he had ever felt more comfortable around than her and it was hard to not fall back into that pattern. He cleared his throat before sipping his beer and shrugging. “I’d probably put a bunch of words in a hat and pick three out in order to name the band. It’d end up being horribly genius and then I could pretend like I came up with it all on my own.” He smiled and nodded, drinking more of his beer, perhaps a bit more quickly than he should have.Â
“I uh heard that a few people are going out afterwards to a bar or something, are you going?” He looked over at her, hoping that she was so he could find . reason to go and have more time with her even though he knew it was pushing his luck. “I was considering it but you know, have to feed the cat, can’t leave it along for too long,” he teased before diverting his eyes back to his cup before sighing. “Alright, I need a cigarette or a joint and I know...I know, I shouldn’t smoke but this room is too much for me so I need a little break. You want to join me or should I release you the abyss of talks of theory and discourse?” He gave her his best smile as he met her eyes, sure she would turn him down but hoping against hope that she would say yes.Â