Participants:
| Scene Title | Oh That's Nice |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Before the 'meeting' Brian and Sam try to rest… |
| Date | January 30, 2011 |
Washington, DC — Hotel Room
"This is where miracles are born."
It's not really where miracles are born, but it's where they're talked about at least. Brian has just returned to the hotel room. With Amid and Noah staying across the hall, Samara and Brian were left to their own devices. Which may not be the best kind of devices right now. Since their arrival, Brian has been somewhat quiet and irritable with his future wife (probably). But having gone to get Chinese food has seemed to brighten his spirits a bit. At least he can joke around with himself.
Walking into the hotel room, a few cartons are laid down. As well as an orange soda. Which was totally hard to find, by the way. But it's a silent peace offering that rests on the table. Laying the meal there, Winters abandons the food to kick off his shoes. Hopping onto the bed, he twirls onto his back. Plopping his head on the pillows.
Twisting his ankles, he glances over to the food. Just having realized that he forgot plates. Though he won't admit that, he'll probably say the world was out of plates at the moment. Pulling one leg up he ffolds his arms over his chest. The meeting is coming, though the two are getting some rest and food before the proverbial shit hits the fan.
Having said little, done little, and murmured little, Sam has actually been staring at the ceiling since just after they'd checked in. She hasn't been this silent since she came back to life. Not that she isn't trying; she's always trying. She forces a tight-lipped smile. Her hands rest behind her head like a kind of pillow with her fingers knit together behind her head.
But when Brian flops next to her, the smile eases more than she intends. Her cheeks redden a little, try as she might to fight it. The blush isn't quite as expected, particularly as her eyes tighten shut, complete with wrinkles as she rolls over onto her stomach. Her cheek rests against the pillow, but her head turns to face him. It's progress.
Hazel eyes open to look at him and he earns a flicker of a grin. Still not thrilled, but it's there. Her cheeks redden more; she's been thinking. And in her thinking, she's made a choice, even if she's still not entirely happy, "I love you."
"I love you too." Is murmured out dully. He stares at the ceiling, his statement is not full of warmth. It's just a fact that he's reciting. His eyes trail over to her slowly as he feels the heat of her lovey gaze on the side of his face. Slowly looking over at her, he offers a tight smile. "Food over there." And her soda. Come on. He then looks up at the ceiling.
"I think I'm going to try and nap before it all goes down." And with that he pulls his legs up, pushing the comforter back to tuck himself in one swift and fluid motion. Rolling his back to Samara, he rests his head against the pillow, though does not yet close his eyes.
Lips purse together as she watches him, her cheek laid a little tighter to the pillow. "Hi," she whispers quietly, nearly a sigh. "I.." her eyes close tightly again while her breath is released in a slow nearly laboured breath. She's been left with her thoughts for most of the day, quietly weighing them like she had for so long before she could talk to anyone besides Rue. "I get it. Why… just why." Her lips press together again as she forces her giant doe-eyes open. She pseudo shrugs where she lays as she rolls off the bed when she catches sight of the orange soda.
Her lips curl slightly at the edges and her gaze remains on that bottle of orange soda. Focused. Unblinking. Glassy. In fact, should she blink, the tears would fall and so she keeps her eyes open despite the burning feeling in her eyes. Must. Stay. Open. She sniffles.
The Hi is not responded to immediately. He just remains on the pillow for a long moment. He may not want to talk right now. Hugging the pillow he remains silent for a long moment. Then curiosity starts to get the best of him. What is she doing back there? He does not know! And the more he lays there the more he feels like he needs to look at her. Finally he concedes.
Rolling over to stare at her, his brows arch. His brows furrow slowly before wordlessly, his hand stretches over the expanse off the vacant bed. Hi.
Unfortunately eyes can't stay open forever, particularly when her bed partner stirs. In fact, the necessity of blinking causes her eyelids to close and that single tear treads down her cheek. Followed by another. She sniffles again to resist the tears. Quiet tears. She uses her sleeves to dab her eyes, mopping up the few tears she couldn't hold in.
Her own stubbornness begs her to dig in her heels; she doesn't want to turn to face him. Facing him would be admitting her tears; she's trying to be tough, but some people are just designed to be sensitive. Sad. Happy. Angry. She cries for all of them. And so she stares at the orange soda a moment longer.
With a louder sniffle still, she turns back to return to the bed. She sits on the edge of her side of the bed and eyes the arm. Her own eyebrows soften as do her eyes. But she's hesitating. Is it an invitation? Her head tilts slightly while her lips thin uncertainly, the question asked with the kind of silence she'd used to communicate with him before she'd found her voice.
Looking up to her, his lips turn down some. She's not taking his hand. But she's crying. Letting out a light sigh, Winters pushes himself up. Sliding off the edge of the bed, Winters goes to the side of the hotel room. Going down on one knee, he opens it up. Pulling his bag ot the side, he goes to unzip it. Reaching into the bag, Winters pulls out a small item.
Turning and keeping it out of sight Brian goes to flop back onto the bed. Crawling up the bed, Brian keeps his back to Samara. However, he does bring the Disney Princess Mirror up in front of his face. Samara behind him being reflected in the purple framed image. A little wave is given to the mirror.
Sami frowns a little as he slides off the bed, but her lips turn upward among her tears at the infamous Disney Princess Mirror. She slides closer to him on the bed as she waggles three fingers into a small wave. 'Hi' she mouths this time rather than speaks, her lips curling up a little again even as tears trail down her face again. Her gaze turns upward momentarily.
She sits behind him, craning her neck to see his reflection in the mirror. She shrugs a little, unsure in many respects, as she settles just behind him. Her eyebrows arch while she slides a little closer to him, just shy of him.
Smiling in the mirror, he brings over one bicep to rest his head on top of it. Brian peers in at the mirror, "Hey Sameye." He greets gently. "You keep following me." His voice is soft and even a little weary sounding. He watches her in the reflection. "I used to wish I could touch you so bad. All the time. Or just hear your frogvoice." He keeps the DPM elevated in front of him. "It made me really sad that I couldn't…" He's talking to the mirror. Not to Sami.
The words warrant a warmer smile, even if it's still a little sad. Sam's expression tightens a little as she's frozen. With a deep breath she leans forward, hanging her head a little, and theoretically hiding from the mirror, a fear easily allayed when her forehead presses against his back. Her hands reach around him from behind. Touch is one thing she'll never tire of again.
"I kissed you in that dream because I'd wanted to kiss you so many times before," it's a quiet admission murmured into his back. She lets the silence return as she just hugs him from behind. Her breath is warm against the back of his neck.
Placing the mirror on the bed, he folds his arms over his chest. "You know how devastated I would be if anything happened to you?" Winters asks quietly. He slowly rolls over, the warm breath urging him to face the source of it. Breathing back onto her own neck, he peers down at her. "If anything happened to you… It's not that you're not ready… I'm not ready. I'm not ready to live in a world that you're not in, okay?"
Winters pushes his head into the pillow. "I'm paralyzed with fear thinking about it." He says quietly, looking up at her. One hand going up to rest against her cheek. "We've fought more in the last week than we ever have. I don't like it." He whines.
"I don't like fighting either," she murmurs, but everything about Sami softens more. Her lips curl upwards a touch further a little wistful as she nods. She understands now. "It's safer up here, and I won't come down unless you need me I swear," the words are warm but quiet, nearly whispered as she sidles tighter against him. "I'm gonna be okay. I promise." Her smile falters a moment.
"We've had a rough week or so," she admits quietly. "But I think that might be my fault." She sighs quietly. "I'm feeling insecure, I guess." Her cheeks flush a little brighter while her eyes avoid eye contact, even with him right in front of her. "I mean before, like last time— " the ring incident "— I.. I've moved past it. Like, I want to be over it. But I'm feeling— off? Although I felt a little off before that. I mean… just off" She pouts a little as she shakes her head and sighs, "I don't think I'm making any sense— "
As she sidles up against him, his neck cranes over to plant a kiss lightly against her cheek. His brows furrow some. "It's not your fault." He starts to protest and then she admits to ffeeling insecure. Oh no. Nothing good comes from being insecure, Samara, and SamaraPlayer. "You're amazing.. And no matter what you say or do, I will still love you. You're brilliant." He murmurs, the words transcending from the room and past the walls. Even the fourth one.
He frowns lightly as she brings up the ring incident. "That's my fault." He looks down at her sadly. "I don't what you to be off." He tilts his head on his bicep. "I want you to feel on.. Me, in particular." He grins a little before reaching to take her hand. "What do you mean off?"
This time Sami's hand is easily taken by his. "When I imagine her, having never met her I just get this picture of someone who's… I dunno… different. Says the right thing, does the right thing, doesn't talk incessantly when nervous or excited… and I know it's silly because I know nothing about her." She shrugs a little, "And I know you had this insane life before we ever met and I love you for it, I just… I don't feel like I can measure up."
The last question has her eyes tracking away while her lips hitch up to one side, considering whether she can actually put her feelings into words; whether she's physically capable of it. "I don't think about life much anymore… I mean, that's not to say that I don't think at all, I just don't reflect on things like I used to. I think I've become so obsessed with living life that I don't— like.. I just… there are things that people do right? Like most people are super self-aware. Or whatever." Her eyebrows furrow as the semi-smile becomes a frown. "Well I don't do that. Not like I used to. I spent four years reflecting, so I've been trying to make up for living… but it means when I don't feel like myself even a little, I'm not… I don't.. I don't always take notice."
The frown grows while her eyes focus on his shoulder— his very emotionless shoulder, it's safer. "I… in the car… I actually did something I haven't for awhile, I thought about things. My life. How I've been the last few weeks. Our fighting…" Her jaw tightens. "Just… stuff. Make sense?" The frown remains. "I feel bad about it— I do…. I should be paying attention and not let life just spin by me or something… I should know… it's like…" She's redder now as a hand presses to her forehead and she rolls over to her back. "Do you promise you won't be mad? I'm an idiot. And I don't actually know."
But she doesn't wait for an answer to her question. The blurter in her has her say it direct, "I think I might be pregnant. Maybe. I don't know. Like. I have no reason except— " she shrugs to the ceiling now. "And it's probably ridiculous and completely insane and not true so I shouldn't have said anything but now I'm thinking about it and trying not to think about it because it's probably not true because I know like things happen and life happens and— you don't want to know this…"
"She has a deep voice. Like a toad. I'm into frogvoices." He smiles adoringly at her, smile twitching up. "Sam.. I'm a raging ball of sexy. If I wanted Vee back. I could have her back." May not be the most reassuring thing. "She told me she still loves me. But I'm here with you, in Washington. And nowhere near her." He promises quietly, leaning in. "I love you. I love your incessant talking. I love your bounciness." Winters smiles admiringly, bringing one hand up to touch her cheek gently.
But then she starts to describe her offage. And he places his hand back on the bed as he listens quietly. "It makes sense. But Sameye, you're being a little scary. Are you breaking up with me?" As she rolls over he peers after her with an intent gaze. wtf is going on. A brow arches high.
And then something catches in his throat. It's roughly the size of the moon and made of gag inducing cactus spikes. It's actually not very nice to have in one's throat. There's also something going down in the chest region. Some crazy kind of rollercoaster feeling scrambling his insides around like they would be if Samara and Adisa's combined energy fuelled a blender. His face remains… face-y. A tight smile that communicates nothing besides the fact that he does not want to communicate anything. As soon as she mentions pregnancy, the little cap on the giant beach ball that is the world is released. Emitting a crazy loud cavernous hissing noise, ringing throughout his lobes. His eyes follow her as he sits there in a very neutral pose.
"Oh that's nice."