ellectrical | (no subject)

(no subject)

There's been a lull just long enough for Elle to grow restless. If anything good came out of being so exhausted so much of the time, it was that it had kept her occupied.

So to cure this newfound energy, she's turned to practicing. She's had plenty of opportunity to train with her abilities, however – the one thing she doesn't have to do anymore is run away. And as she'd been reminded, she could stand to be faster.

Jogging, it turns out, works to make her physically exhausted. But when collapses, still panting, close to the shoreline of the lake, her mind is still as loud as it was before.

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"Complicated like you don't want to explain it right now, or just complicated?"

Both. Can she say both?

What she does say is, "Someone told me he didn't have friends who'd tried to kill him. But I do."

Elle feels a bit like she's stepping on to an unsteady branch, but she adds, "And I think you do."

He sobers, and is quiet for several seconds.

"Yeah," Sam admits, finally. "I do."

"Because we're not - the way we are is..."

As she speaks, she moves her hand back, though if Sam doesn't resist, she'll pull his hand with hers, either too distracted to notice what she's doing, or just not thinking much of it.

"Those friends - people - someone was supposed to - save them."

Elle's words become more tentative as she talks, but her eyes flicker up to him as she finishes, "But I'm not like that. That's not what - I'm for."

(Her 'I' is inviting, not exclusive.)

He doesn't resist. Sam lets his hand be drawn, and after a moment, squeezes her fingers.

"Because you - we - we're different."

"That's how you're like me," she repeats, quietly.

But she very slightly modifies the next part words to, "You can like anyone."

"Well, I don't know about that," he temporizes.

"But I can try."

"Fine."

She doesn't let go of his hand, but pushes back on it slightly. "Then you're good at trying."

Sam's grin is bashful, but he gives up arguing.

"Hey, everyone's got to be good at something, right?"

There's a pause.

And then she assures him, "You're probably good at something else, too."

He can't help himself: he laughs, free and easy, like he hasn't in - he can't remember how long.

"Thanks."

Elle doesn't laugh, but she does smile, quickly, like she can't help it.

It fades when he speaks, but only because she seems to need to think before she answers -

"Thanks for - talking to me."

Sam squeezes her fingers again, gently.

"Anytime."

Elle blinks down to his hand.

Then, with a little caution, she returns the gesture.

He smiles at her.

"Want to call it a day - as far as your running goes - and go back in and have a drink?"

She returns the smile. This time, it's more than just a quick reaction.

"Yeah. I do."

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