#jack samira.

[vitalphenomena]

@rvolving // abbot said: "i'm just a little rusty. it's a confidence thing."

YEAH, SHE WANTS TO CALL BULLSHIT ON THAT. Or, in less harsh terms, push back against it somewhat. Samira's not been afraid to express her skepticism towards, or be hard on, Jack for quite some time. His life choices can be so questionable that she has no other choice.

But there's something vulnerable about this that has her pausing instead of going yeah, right, because he's usually as cocky as he deserves to be.

Around her—around her—is he somehow different?

"Before this," Before what they are, "You were the cockiest person I knew."

And she admired that. She loved that, honestly.

"I want you here," she reassured him, gentle but firm. They're in her apartment. They're taking their shoes off. They're still figuring all of this out.

[vitalphenomena]

@rvolving // abbot said: "you know, it hurts me sometimes how little you believe in yourself."

SAMIRA STARES. It briefly infuriates her that the way she treats herself can somehow become about him. But sometimes, that's what a relationship is, right? They're connected in a way they weren't before—considerate in a way they've wanted to be but could never consider so explicitly.

She wants to tell him she doesn't have any other option. She wants to tell him this place is getting to her. She wants to tell him she's scared of what she's going to do, or fail to do.

That would make what she thinks she needs to do far too real.

"Maybe he is right. I—" She's giving up; he can probably see it in how aggressively she shrugs. "—working with him every day is exhausting. The VA wasn't like this, and—and maybe I can't take it."

[vitalphenomena]

@rvolving // abbot said: "everything you say is interesting to me."

...RIGHT.

She's already looking for an excuse to cut herself off, to change the subject. That's why she'd said I'm probably boring you to tears so abruptly during her rambling, self-indulgent explanation of how she'd study for her Biochem finals at a Persian coffee shop—how she'd gotten to know the owner and part-time employees, how they celebrated each other's successes with mutual enthusiasm.

"—everything?"

Seriously, come on, Jack.

She's right to be skeptical. She can't afford to take something like this to heart. It'd make her cocky, or give her an inflated sense of importance, or convince her she's not crazy for how she thinks he looks at her sometimes.

Like right now.

"Why would you say something like that when it's—" She has to laugh, or else. "—because there's no way you're serious, and I know you like to banter, Jack, but—"

[vitalphenomena]

@rvolving // abbot said: "it's not the first time i've been held hostage."

MOHAN EXHALES, NEARLY LAUGHTER AND ENTIRELY SELF-DEPRECATING.

She hadn't meant to imply she had kidnapped him or was holding him against his will—but also worth considering: this visit wasn't intended to subject Jack to the duties of a handyman.

Mohan leans against her kitchen counter, feels useless, and goes to see if he needs more water in the glass abandoned on her coffee table.

"Right. Well, if you need to send a bill, take it up with my landlord." She gestures to him, the space he occupies beneath her kitchen sink. She looks away. The water: half full.

"Maintenance was supposed to look at this weeks ago."

[vitalphenomena]

@rvolving // abbot said: "you are remarkably unselfish."

SAMIRA'S SKEPTICAL. The outright praise could make her skittish, too, but she can't let that rattle her or compromise her nonchalance.

Besides: is it remarkable to provide the standard of care she swore to maintain, or is she just doing her job (with impossibly high stakes, with perpetual strain, with her own health to worry about)?

"I don't think so," she muses. The park had been overwhelming, borderline unpleasant. Walking back to her car, the night sky, the company—far more agreeable.

"I spend a lot of time by myself." It's not quite a confession; he knows this about her already. "I think that's rooted in selfishness."