❛ listen, sister—– you don’t ‘ave to tell me anything. i mean, who the hell you think was luggin’ you home by your bootstraps when all was said and done, anyway? ❜ he carps in jest, nodding his head emphatically before his impish grin is resurrected. back when the world was their own private joke, he’d had more than his fair share of practice in honing the skill of sherry-wrangling—– it was nice to know he still had it in him. ❛ yeah. nice. real nice. from green in the face to green in the THUMB, ❜ he muses aloud, evidently amused by the irony. ❛ you’re the god damn eighth wonder of the world, you know that? ❜ he jests, blue hues peering to inadvertently admire her facial features. her doe eyes. her neat little nose. those lips, the same that have chewed joe out more times than he could tally—- the same lips he’d dreamed of planting his own on . . . he admires a beat longer than his liking, and it’s obvious—- for he scowls at himself, blinking profusely as he forcibly unfastens his gaze from her. earth to joe? come in, joe? sheepishly, he scopes the perimeter of the room, as though his stage directions were written in the walls somewhere. ‘pull yourself together, joey.’
he chews anxiously at the inside of his lip as the silence encapsulates them, tapping the pads of his fingers against the porcelain of the mug in an effort to break the monotony. boy, this is rough. had it ever been like this, in the past? perhaps when they first met—- and even then, it was fleeting. after their very first, admittedly HEATED encounter, joe took an almost instant liking to her. she’d put him in his place; and as much as he had hated it, it had implanted the hope somewhere in the deep, dark recesses of his mind that she’d be there to put him in his place forever. enamored as he was, he had eased quite gracefully into the constructs of FRIENDSHIP. his crush dissipated, but his love and respect for her had only slowly solidified. mounted … until—- well. here they were; back to square one. a vicious, vicious cycle it was.
❛ hey—– come on … ❜ he begins prematurely, fingers sprouting up to begin facilitating the sign of ‘defense’, as though she may harp on him for having to ‘convince’ him to stay. but it was preposterous, wasn’t it? that he hadstayed in the first place? that he would so easily agree to the idea without some CONVINCING? and just as he’s about to verbalize a diluted version of his conviction, her own confession stunts his pattern of thought in its tracks. lie … why would she—– ‘but’? ‘but’ what? features now tainted by his own naivety, a single brow perched to indicate his confusion, he meets her gaze. wait. surely that didn’t have … a deeper meaning, did it? the realization hits him like a frying pan upside the head, so unexpected that he thinks he may need to lie down a second. if he didn’t know how to navigate the sacred grounds of this holy-hell scenario before, consider the probability now wholly impossible. how the hell was he supposed to respond to that? fingers anxiously adjusting his grip of the mug, something stirs in his gut—- he tries to tell himself it’s only hunger, but … could it be? … butterflies? could a grown man fall prey to those still? had she wanted him to stay for … other reasons? reasons that, perhaps … mirrored his own? ‘YOU’RE JUMPING THE GUN,’ warns the cynic in him, but … was he? he’s a cop, for god’s sake—— he puts puzzles together for a living, why the hell was this so difficult?
‘you always make me feel safe.’ squaring his jaw, glancing up at the ceiling, he then shifts his gaze to her. his chin is positioned with a confidence that seemed elusive only moments ago. and after a beat of letting the thought hang between them, he decidedly exchanges the coffee mug between his hands, lunging the hand closest to her to the nape of her neck. ❛ hey——- and i always will, … long as i can help it.i promise you that. ❜ he bores his gaze adamantly into her profile. with a sliver of a smile, he scrunches her brunette locks in his hand gently. was it too much? probably. but it was genuine. he’d done his best in protecting her, even in knowing she could handle herself. even in knowing it went against her wishes sometimes, he was always waiting in the weeds— waiting for the punch she couldn’t take. no matter how confusing and convoluted the situation is, they would always be partners in crime. and in TIME, well … partners in——-
winding down from his complacency, he can suddenly feel the staleness between them. it irks him. he hates these situations. awkward, uneasy——- it made him feel sixteen again. when she rises, he’s whipsawed between grateful and ungrateful. but he obliges, rising to his feet with a grunt. he smirks despite his instincts at her reference, consoling the pulsation in his head by raising the two fingers clutching the now-butt of his cigarette. shaking his head at the domesticity of it all, he retorts, ❛ in the style of sherry grayson—– hold the chunks, if you would. ❜
the feeling of his hand on her bare skin shorted her ability to continue speaking. a blessing and a curse for if she did keep going, trying her best to cover up her almost announcement that she felt joe wasn’t ready to hear yet. sherry, herself, wasn’t even sure she was ready to admit to it or even come remotely close. the warmth of his fingers against the nape of her neck really made her wonder if she maybe should, at this point. GOD...if she was reacting to her oldest friend innocently touching her this way, it really had been too long since she’d been touched by a man -- or anyone. her head basically leaned back into his touch, as if she were drifting away and the only thing relevant around her was joe...
when he finally spoke, sherry was having a hard time drawing a full breath. breaking free from her trance she was only able to push out the gentlest of smiles and a light hand on his knee. “as long as i can protect you right back. whether you need me to or not -- and i know you don’t, physically need me to protect you but -- but i’ll just say i’ll protect you mentally, emotionally and...spiritually.” what the fuck are you saying, sheryl? this really was her life right now? getting flustered, heat rising in her cheeks and finding herself filling a silence with awkward conversation. who IS she? joe’s presence clearly dominated her awareness....but it hadn’t been like this. it wasn’t like this yesterday, was it? what is she missing?
sherry could make up excuses and chalk her feelings up to loneliness but the reasoning didn’t matter. it was clear as day. and as she stood in her kitchen, taking out everything she could to make a hearty omelet for two, she tried to convince herself that her heart wasn’t beating ten times quicker than usual. that she didn’t want him with a desire that wasn’t the least bit rational. but she did. wow, she did...and it didn’t make any sense. sure, he was by far the only man she’d ever felt one hundred percent comfortable with and can trust with her entire life. of course he’d always been handsome and there’s no one else who can make her laugh and at the same time make her feel like she’s going insane like he did...but she didn’t make it a habit of feeling like a teenager with a crush. that had never been sherry. all of her relationships pretty much started as monotonous as they could. after last night it was like everything was coming together. everything was making sense but confusing the hell out of her at the same time. when was the last time someone had affected her on the same level as joe? “so.....” did she already mention she hates silences? this...this wasn’t normal for them. “have you been able to look into john’s file lately?” great choice for morning talk.
