Date: 2024-01-24 11:02 pm (UTC)
300kgbackpack: (suspish)
"Door's there. Door's been there," Sam admits, only just on the edge of hearing. "Whether I realized it or not. 'cuz you've been good to me, John Rambo. Me n' the kid both."

John already has more of a foot in that proverbial door than he even realizes. Sam just doesn't know what to do with it yet. He doesn't want anything physical, he hasn't for a long time, not since his life and his little family was destroyed in an instant. He's sure that this is exacerbating the damage already done by the chiral exposure and making the phobia present more dramatically on his skin. But he knows he trusts John not to do anything more than this. He trusts the man implicitly.

He looks back at John, brow knitted, eyes less narrowed with the passing of clouds over the clear sky. Again it reveals that soft grey-blue of his eyes that reflect the colors of the world around him. "I can't make you promises, can't say anything one way or the other what I want anymore. I'm not gonna be like, you n' me, that's endgame. What I can do, here n' now, is keep bein' here. Keep talkin' with you. Just keep doin' what we are already."
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Sam Porter Bridges

October 2023

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