my head's under water

[sizeofyourbaggage]

Who| Sam Wilson and OPEN + closed threads for Initiate, Bucky, and Porrim
What| finding friends and trying to find his state of mind
Where| In the lobby of the Tribute Tower
When| After Sam’s death in the arena
Warnings/Notes| Discussions of death, violence, nightmares, and PTSD; will update with others if needed! Prompts for closed threads in the comments.


On the way up from where he’d woken up to the district suites, Sam’d noticed the blanket and pillow fort occupying part of the lobby. He’d passed it by then, because he wasn’t quite suited for company yet. He’d practically let Arya kill him, and he knows it, and he’s still not balanced enough to honestly be able to tell if it was because he refused to kill a little girl just to keep himself alive for a little bit longer, or if he was just that messed up at the moment.

Sam needed to get himself sorted, as much as he could, and once he was, he had people he needed to check on.

But a day or so after his return, he’s back down in the lobby, checking it out. He looks around for anyone who might be using it, or who’s nearby, so he can head over to them to ask who’d built it, or if they wouldn’t mind some company.

If he can’t find anyone, he’ll just make himself at home, until someone joins him or asks what he thinks he’s doing.

Comments

[fusshionable]

It's comforting, at least, that her weird alter-identity thing is the only dirt he has on her. Not that she's a woman with a whole lot of secrets; for the most part, she's an open book. "I'll keep that in mind," she replies, watching his thumb pass over her knuckles again.

Slyly, she glances up at him. "Anything else you need to tell me? No deep, dark secrets? Secret clubs you want me to join?" She might be teasing. Maybe just a little bit.

[sizeofyourbaggage]

He chuckles, grinning slyly right back at her as he lifts her hand up to press a kiss against her knuckles. "I think the one I'm already asking you to join is probably big enough for tonight."

It's an understatement to say he's concerned about her being involved in the rebellion - not only that, but about being the one to ask her if she's willing to do it, to tell her about 13 and hope she'll get involved.

But they don't have a lot of choice. They need every ally they can get.

[fusshionable]

The way Sam kisses into her knuckles makes Porrim laugh softly, if only to hide the fact that she's feeling some feelings right now and she needs to maintain her cool.

"You charmer," she croons. "Fair enough." Feeling a little more daring knowing that there aren't any cameras that can catch her, she steps closer, holding Sam's gaze. "Thanks again." Leaning in, she drops a kiss on his cheek--or more accurately, his jaw--before stepping past him. "Shall we admire some more of the art?" she calls over her shoulder, like she's decided it's time to move on to the next gallery.

[sizeofyourbaggage]

He's grinning at her, smile somewhere between smug and teasing as he gets ready to say something about how he does try. But then her eyes are on his and she's leaning in, and he has to hold himself very still. She's way too close, and he's kind of afraid that if he leans into her at all, he's not going to be able to resist pulling her closer, tilting his head a little so he can kiss her properly.

It's not like he doesn't know what a terrible idea that'd be. But for a moment, with no cameras and her lips just brushing his skin - he wishes he didn't care. "Damn," he mutters, watching her go for a moment before he catches up with her.

"You're an amazing person, Porrim," he says, quiet and genuine, then picks up his voice with a grin. "Yeah, let's see if there's anything else here worth our time."

[fusshionable]

Porrim is all too aware that it's a dangerous move, that things between them seem like they're at a precipice between what they should do and what they want. So as much as she's aching to take advantage of the situation, to give herself this one tiny thing that she wants, she's relieved when nothing happens, because it makes it a thousand times easier to stay professional when the cameras are watching.

Still, she smirks at his muttered oath, turning to glance sidelong at him and looping her arm through his. "Do let's," she agrees pleasantly as they venture through the rest of the museum, keeping up the pretense of a friendly visit.