[The smile she gives him is soft and warm and thankful, because she's not great with words, but she hopes he'll get how much it means to her, that he's here, that he always seems to know the best way to make her feel better.
He can't actually solve her problems, but she feels a little more capable of coping with it herself.]
[it is, honestly, a really strange place for peter to be. he's made it seventeen years and some without ever having the experience of anyone being grateful for him in this way, without having made a difference in the lives of anyone not related to him. when he told steph that needing people has been the theme of his past six months, he was being quite literal--before then, people had never needed him and he'd only ever needed his family. now things are so much more complicated. it's fortunate that steph doesn't expect or need much more from him than showing up and maybe actually stating his opinion instead of just keeping his mouth shut.]
With Saul alone, she'd never think anything like that, she wouldn't worry about it all being for nothing. But it's not just Saul, and the more time passes the more she wonders why she's even trying with Dick, when he won't listen to a word she says, when it seems like he doesn't care how much he hurts or worries her.
She doesn't trust herself not to choke on any words she might try, so she just kisses him properly, instead, slow and careful as she guides his hands to her waist before winding her arms around his shoulders.]
Edited (i was rereading and i wanted to add more i'm sorry) 2013-12-25 09:27 (UTC)
[Focusing on the tea gives her time to put all her thoughts back into order. Mostly she just needs to ignore the urge to tell him that Jesse's dead, because she wants to - talk about, she wants someone to tell her it's okay to feel relieved, that it's okay to miss him at the same time.
But she knows it's best to keep it quiet, it's not right to spread the circumstances of Jesse's death, and Saul would be upset if she told people who aren't involved.
So she just doesn't say anything while she makes the tea (english breakfast for Peter, jasmine for herself), not trusting herself to not do something stupid like blurt it out. By the time she's done, she feels a little more capable of keeping it to herself.]
There's milk in the fridge and sugar - somewhere, if you want.
[Ellie used to fuss about doing her own milk for her tea so Steph's gotten used to letting people do their own.]
[peter's mind is quieter, just watching steph go about the business of making tea. there's that charge in the air that means something's not being said, but if it's not being said there's probably a reason and peter tries to keep his nose out of what hasn't been made his business. he's not sure when steph herself became his business. that was an accident. he seems to be having a lot of accidents like that in exsilium. more than he ever did before, at least.
but watching steph make tea is kind of like watching lynda make tea, the same sort of habit-made-ritual in the thing, not quite just plonking teabags into cups and pouring water over them.]
Just sugar. You want milk?
[he levers himself upright from his lean and begins searching the counters and then the cabinets for said sugar.]
[Saul is kind of fussy, so the sugar turns out to be in a cabinet with similar foodstuffs despite the fact Steph tends to leave it out for her coffee. One day she'll actually remember where it lives.
At least she knows where the spoons are, so she grabs one for Peter while he searches]
[that at least makes it easy to find! peter dumps a heaping spoonful of sugar into his tea and gives it a stir. if she's left him the teabag he'll let it oversteep a bit, so it's strong and sweet.]
If they had honey around here it'd be pretty good. Drink coffee all the time and you'll burn a hole in your stomach, or at least that's what Lynda likes to tell me.
Yeah, we're okay. We've got solar so there's heat and hot water, and a space heater on top of that from whoever went on missions. Plenty of blankets and stuff. And Tempest landed us approximately a fuckton of mammoth meat, so we're set for trading for a bit, and the folks who let us in are pretty stoked.
[even if they only run the heat when they're awake and the bathtub is in the kitchen because that's where the hot water is and their furniture at the moment consists of a mattress on the floor and a couch probably as old as either of them, peter's pretty satisfied with what they've set up, especially since their trading debts are pretty much paid.]
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