They’ve cried in front of each other before, so this isn’t the first time Jesse has seen tears in her eyes. It hits him just the same though. Like something in his own chest has cracked right down the middle. His hand is on her face in seconds, his calloused thumb wiping the tear away. They’re mirroring one another now, a fact he’s mostly aware of because of how good her palm feels against his cheek. Comforting. Warm.
But unlike years ago, Jesse doesn’t know what she needs from him now. What he should say, what he should do… it had never been easy, but he’d always known the gist of what she needed from him. A fight. A hug. A single cigarette, shared in silence.
What she’d just told him doesn’t help him get his thoughts in order either. He wants to believe it, more than he thought he would. But…
“You’re drunk, Ashe.” His smile is sad, his voice soft, even if there’s barely anyone left around to hear it anyway. “Never did hold it against you y’know. You gunnin’ for me. I… I did wish it could’ve been different.” His thumb brushes her cheek again, this time without the excuse of a rogue tear to justify it. “I gave you plenty of ammo, didn’t I?”
She's a difficult woman. There was no question about it, and she was definitely hard to read. With her short fuse and explosive temper, she knew underneath it all that there really wasn't a reason for anyone to stay around her. Even those that did, she kept at arm's length. Her eyes widen slightly in shock when he brings his thumb up to brush the tear away. She hadn't even be aware that it had rolled down her cheek.
Her eyes catch his again and she's not even surprised by his doubt. She's done more than enough damage to their trust that she isn't surprised that he's doubtful. You didn't exactly encourage the building of bridges when you shouted out into the world that you wanted someone dead. If her team could see her now, they'd be just as doubtful as she was. Well, except maybe the other founders, they knew her better than she knew herself sometimes.
She gives a tiny nod, still unable to tear her eyes away. "Yeah. I'm drunk. So are you?" Her fingers moved down to his neck. "Maybe I'll deny it later, but you should know damn well I don't lie very well when drunk." There was no fight in her at that moment, but she understands. Trust was going to take more to build, for both of them, but she couldn't get the desire to be close out of her head. She has to get the word out though, before she walls it off again. "I got left. Same as you. Still stuck in the middle of it all. I sat in plenty of bars and wondered why the people I wanted to love couldn't stay." She pauses as she collects her thoughts. "And you... you've been one hell of an asshole." A sad smile curls at one corner of her lip.
She’s right about that. Ashe can hold her liquor with the best of them, but her ability to lie does take a hit for it. Maybe those who didn’t know her well couldn’t tell, but Jesse usually could. Except when he’s equally as drunk—or more so, as the case is now.
That ache in his chest turns sharp quick, leaving him feeling stricken. She’s never talked to him like this before about what happened. Honestly, he’s never had much of a chance to hear her side of it. He’d assumed a lot, and the few interactions they’d had post-Blackwatch had solidified them in his mind.
Apparently, he’d been wrong. Very wrong, if she’s telling the truth.
He doesn’t think about what he does next until he’s doing it. His hand slips back into her hair, cradling her head as he leans forward. His forehead rests against her own. It’s more a sort of embrace than a prelude to anything else, even with the sudden lack of distance between them.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t…”
Didn’t think. Hadn’t asked. Had been so focused on himself and his own wounds, he hadn’t fully seen the damage he’d left strewn out behind him.
It hadn't exactly been fair of her to respond as she had the first time she'd seen him. The way he'd changed though had felt so threatening and it hadn't allowed a lot of time for friendly conversation. She'd changed too. Where once they had faced the horrors together, they had both seen so many new horrors on their own. She'd been quick to anger with her perceived rejection and from there things has spiraled out of her control and it wasn't until Deerington that she'd been able to look at him with any common sense.
There is shock and warmth as she feels him close the gap between her. For a second she'd thought he might have been going for more than just resting their foreheads together, but everything he gave her felt like a touch she'd been starving for. Few wanted to be close to her, and she certainly didn't give off the vibe that she might actually want to be held or treated with care. She had always known Jesse to be like some whisperer when it came to her, able to calm her storms as well as he could start them.
Her hand slid from his neck to move around his shoulder and hold him against her. Maybe they looked ridiculous to any onlookers, but she was desperate for the closeness. Short of B.O.B., and a few people she'd briefly allowed into her bed, she didn't have a lot of contact. And B.O.B., no matter how much she loved him, did not provide the same human warmth, and she left the others without any post-coital cuddling.
"...Me too." She whispered. Her head felt heavy and she turned her head a bit. The moment was perfect in some ways, but she couldn't quite bridge the gap to kiss his mouth, too unsure of what he wanted. Instead she pressed her lips to his cheek, before laying her head against his shoulder and burying her face into his neck. She breathed him in and he smelled exactly as he once had and she just needed to be close. "I missed you..."
Jesse hadn’t exactly given Ashe a fair chance either during that first reunion. He’d been keeping up with Deadlock and had seen where it was headed. He thought that told him what he needed to know about its leader as well. And she’d changed, sure, but maybe not in all the ways he’d thought. This is the same, at least… this simple touch. Her head on his shoulder. The two of them drunk and spilling secrets.
He doesn’t have the words for it himself, but he’s been starving for this kind of touch just as much. The warmth from that kiss on his cheek fills his chest, not quite wiping out the previous aches and pains. But it makes it manageable. He leans his cheek against the top of her head and just holds her there.
This night had started out being about the people he’s lost. How strange and wonderful how it has become about people found.
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But unlike years ago, Jesse doesn’t know what she needs from him now. What he should say, what he should do… it had never been easy, but he’d always known the gist of what she needed from him. A fight. A hug. A single cigarette, shared in silence.
What she’d just told him doesn’t help him get his thoughts in order either. He wants to believe it, more than he thought he would. But…
“You’re drunk, Ashe.” His smile is sad, his voice soft, even if there’s barely anyone left around to hear it anyway. “Never did hold it against you y’know. You gunnin’ for me. I… I did wish it could’ve been different.” His thumb brushes her cheek again, this time without the excuse of a rogue tear to justify it. “I gave you plenty of ammo, didn’t I?”
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Her eyes catch his again and she's not even surprised by his doubt. She's done more than enough damage to their trust that she isn't surprised that he's doubtful. You didn't exactly encourage the building of bridges when you shouted out into the world that you wanted someone dead. If her team could see her now, they'd be just as doubtful as she was. Well, except maybe the other founders, they knew her better than she knew herself sometimes.
She gives a tiny nod, still unable to tear her eyes away. "Yeah. I'm drunk. So are you?" Her fingers moved down to his neck. "Maybe I'll deny it later, but you should know damn well I don't lie very well when drunk." There was no fight in her at that moment, but she understands. Trust was going to take more to build, for both of them, but she couldn't get the desire to be close out of her head. She has to get the word out though, before she walls it off again. "I got left. Same as you. Still stuck in the middle of it all. I sat in plenty of bars and wondered why the people I wanted to love couldn't stay." She pauses as she collects her thoughts. "And you... you've been one hell of an asshole." A sad smile curls at one corner of her lip.
no subject
That ache in his chest turns sharp quick, leaving him feeling stricken. She’s never talked to him like this before about what happened. Honestly, he’s never had much of a chance to hear her side of it. He’d assumed a lot, and the few interactions they’d had post-Blackwatch had solidified them in his mind.
Apparently, he’d been wrong. Very wrong, if she’s telling the truth.
He doesn’t think about what he does next until he’s doing it. His hand slips back into her hair, cradling her head as he leans forward. His forehead rests against her own. It’s more a sort of embrace than a prelude to anything else, even with the sudden lack of distance between them.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t…”
Didn’t think. Hadn’t asked. Had been so focused on himself and his own wounds, he hadn’t fully seen the damage he’d left strewn out behind him.
“… I’m sorry.”
no subject
There is shock and warmth as she feels him close the gap between her. For a second she'd thought he might have been going for more than just resting their foreheads together, but everything he gave her felt like a touch she'd been starving for. Few wanted to be close to her, and she certainly didn't give off the vibe that she might actually want to be held or treated with care. She had always known Jesse to be like some whisperer when it came to her, able to calm her storms as well as he could start them.
Her hand slid from his neck to move around his shoulder and hold him against her. Maybe they looked ridiculous to any onlookers, but she was desperate for the closeness. Short of B.O.B., and a few people she'd briefly allowed into her bed, she didn't have a lot of contact. And B.O.B., no matter how much she loved him, did not provide the same human warmth, and she left the others without any post-coital cuddling.
"...Me too." She whispered. Her head felt heavy and she turned her head a bit. The moment was perfect in some ways, but she couldn't quite bridge the gap to kiss his mouth, too unsure of what he wanted. Instead she pressed her lips to his cheek, before laying her head against his shoulder and burying her face into his neck. She breathed him in and he smelled exactly as he once had and she just needed to be close. "I missed you..."
no subject
He doesn’t have the words for it himself, but he’s been starving for this kind of touch just as much. The warmth from that kiss on his cheek fills his chest, not quite wiping out the previous aches and pains. But it makes it manageable. He leans his cheek against the top of her head and just holds her there.
This night had started out being about the people he’s lost. How strange and wonderful how it has become about people found.
“… Missed you too.”