@amobscene / con't from here
he's standing there, awkwardly, with his hands shoved in his pockets. like a stranger in his own home. technically, this is his home now, jude has to keep reminding himself of that. maybe if he dwells on that thought for long enough, it'll feel real. for now, jude just feels out of place; like a kid going over to their friend's house for the first time, uncertain of the rules. percy's not like that, she's not about to chide him for anything. she's saved his life, that's something else that he can't quite believe.
"huh?" before percy can repeat herself, jude processes her offer. he clears his throat and offers a sheepish grin. "that'd be great, actually. i'd like that." maybe he should do something besides stand around like a ghost haunting her home. their home. it's their home now. he goes to take a seat on the nearby couch, and decides he can probably free his hands from his pockets.
"it's been a long time since i've had a bourbon, percy." he forces a chuckle, and from his seated position takes a look around the living room. "... you have a real nice place here, i like it."
she likes the way he says her name, the way the syllables sound in his voice. his mouth cradles it so gently—and maybe it's silly, how a such a small, thing can please her so much, but what can she do? she loves him. that he's standing here is proof enough of that (she'd have helped him regardless, but she certainly wouldn't have invited him to stay if it weren't for this tenderness she feels for him). and really, it is strange to have him here. it's been just her and laura for so long, the ephemera of their lives evident in art and trinkets and books strewn across every available surface.
how messy it must all seem to him! in her dreams, things were always a little neater. but… he likes it (or so he says, and she believes him). percy fishes two rocks glasses from the cabinet of eclectic glassware, then hooks her stepstool with her foot to drag it closer so she can get up to the booze. it's not very dignified, but it is out of the reach of any curious little hands, which is the important part.
"thanks," she says breathlessly over her shoulder, once she's retrieved the bourbon and is back on the ground. "it's kind of a mess, sorry. i'm trying to teach laura to clean up after herself, but, uh…" a sheepish grin. "it's hard when i'm bad at keeping things clean. anyway—" she brandishes the bottle "—i'm busting out the good stuff. you want it neat? on the rocks?"