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[evocation]

@kyna.medina | ■ ▲ ◌ ▼

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[evocation]

yeah but
that's the point
i don't want to twist your arm

[withmeinparadise]

you ain't twisting my arm

[evocation]

you promise?

[withmeinparadise]

promise

[evocation]

maybe tonight?

[withmeinparadise]

[ well, fuck ]

i could do tonight

[evocation]

okay
let me know when?

[withmeinparadise]

gimme til around 7, gotta finish some stuff

[evocation]

sounds good
wait
maybe you should come to my place instead
so i'm not like
telling you my life story at a fucking bar

[withmeinparadise]

sure. your place, 7 pm.
is your roommate gonna be around?

[ tell him to clear out pls ]

[evocation]

i don't think so

[withmeinparadise]

[ which, you know. cool. but he just says ]

see you then

[ and shows up 15 minutes late, but hey, that's fashionable. even wears a v-neck t-shirt instead of one of his hideous hawaiian shirts, and he has a bottle of whiskey under one arm. you know, housewarming gift or something. ]

[evocation]

["Fashionably late" translates to "intense anxiety", because she instantly starts worrying he's ghosted her. When he shows up, her relief is palpable.]

Uh, hey. What's that?

[withmeinparadise]

[ look, kyna, only losers show up on the dot. he holds out the bottle to her. ]

Since we ain't going to the bar, I figured I'd bring the bar to you.

[ like bringing flowers without the pressure, right? ]

[evocation]

[She grins at that, immediately put a bit more at ease.]

Thanks.

[Instead of stepping back to let him in like a normal person, she takes his arm and pulls him inside.]

[withmeinparadise]

Any time--

[ He's figuring she's reaching for the bottle, but nope, that's definitely his arm. Which, you know, no complaints here, aside from the fact that her skin's inevitably touching his. Glowing chest, a sense of anticipation and slight case of nerves underpinning it, and the inevitable attraction that's always there when Kyna's around--the whole shebang. One of these days, he'll think about wearing sleeves, but maybe not at the height of summer. ]

[evocation]

[Kyna is still anxious too. Grateful, but anxious. When she feels his nervous, she laughs, surprised.]

What are you nervous about?

[withmeinparadise]

Since when am I nervous?

[ He lies without hesitation, his smile as crookedly unworried as ever. It's worth a try, right? ]

You, maybe.

[evocation]

[She gives his arm a little shove, then starts heading towards the kitchen to grab some glasses.]

Yeah, I'm nervous. Duh. That's the point.

[Glasses obtained, it's couch time.]

Don't rub it in.

[withmeinparadise]

[ Fair--he's earned a shove. Sam wanders over to the couch, stretching out his legs in front of him. ]

All right, all right, no rubbing it in. So. Whaddaya wanna talk about?

[evocation]

[Hmm. That's the hard part, isn't it? She plunks the glasses down and sits beside him, cross-legged.]

I don't know.

[She makes a face, head tilting.]

Have you ever... you know. Fucked up really badly?

[withmeinparadise]

Huh? Sure.

[ Well, hell. It's not hesitation, exactly, but he's a nanosecond too slow to answer. But maybe it'll read like he just isn't expecting her to go in that direction. ]

Everyone has. [ Right? He really wants that to be right. And he gives her a smile, one arm resting on the back of the couch like it's an extra armrest. ] You wanna talk about fucking things up?

[evocation]

[Kyna doesn't seem to notice the hesitation, at least, and his assurance does make her feel better.]

No. Yes. I don't know.

[She distracts herself by pouring some of the whiskey into a glass, but doesn't drink it. It's clear stalling.]

I guess... Being back here kind of feels like cheating, you know? But being back home and not remembering anything about here is fucking shitty, too.

[withmeinparadise]

[ Once she's poured herself a glass, he takes the bottle and dashes a share of it into his. Even if it is stalling, it's something to do, something to hold. Worthwhile, in the moment. ]

How much of it's cheating when no one asked us about coming or going? [ Or remembering, for that matter. ] You didn't pack up and move here, y'know--you were kidnapped.

[evocation]

Yeah.

[He's right. Of course he's right.]

It's just that... Um. Back home, I did something dumb, and someone I really care about got hurt.