[Plumeria stares in some tense discomfort as Archie explains to her what's happened—not for the situation itself, but because of how strange it is for someone else to be intimately imparting this kind of information about Guzma to her. it's not that she's unhappy that he's managed to open up to other people and make friends, she isn't that type—it's more just...surreal.
then, of course, there's this odd situation in and of itself. she's never had to deal with Guzma grieving. distantly, a part of her worries how far off the ledge he can fall in that sort of circumstance, and she hopes she can be of any help. it's not something she's used to confronting, so it's daunting.
Plumeria nods, and, quietly, her fingers curling on Archie's bicep as her sharp eyes catch his, and she quietly thanks him. it's a very layered thank you, one that she won't dissect.
when met with Guzma's weary gaze as Archie leaves, and Guzma's his intended effect is mostly received... but of course, Plumeria knows better. she watches as he shifts, and, her uncertainty unshown, Plumeria sits beside Guzma in the bed—only to shift onto her side, laying beside him. the disorienting, unbalanced weight of the room is weird and harrowing, almost like being drunk vicariously.
she doesn't initiate anything major; she's not used to this version of Guzma, but she's used to him being explosive and unpredictable. affection is one thing, easily doled and exchanged. but reassurance is sometimes difficult to give to Guzma; to receive it, one must wordlessly admit that they're vulnerable, after all. but he's soft enough now to be in this position in the first place, isn't he?
she extends a hand forward, brushing her thumb against his wrist. if he wants to talk, she'll listen, but it seems insulting to force his hand.]
While Plumeria has been the one that usually had seen him at his most vulnerable, even then that was a far cry from someone's usual standard of "vulnerable". He's grown a bit more used to letting down those walls, even if not completely, and comparatively it'd be a metaphorical few inches, than anything else. However, the state of vulnerability he's allowed himself to expose has been with others, not even Plumeria. Which makes it a little unsurprising that there's an awkward hesitance to him when it comes to this, maybe even a bit of embarrassment that she would see him like this.
So different than what she's used to—so different than what he's used to. Logically, he knows it should be fine, that if anyone at all is safe to be vulnerable with, it'd be her. Still, he feels some strange apprehension, perhaps some worry towards what she'd think of him. A worry he doesn't usually entertain, but he's since gotten in the habit of.
There's comfort in her joining him, though, and that eases him (and the room) a bit. As she lays before him on her side, it's clear she's sharing his own hesitance at the situation between them. Maybe that's what makes her touch one that's well received, seeing as he doesn't pull away from it or resist it in any other way. Easing some of the tension in his body and how he's holding himself. His conflicted and tired expression melting into something more solemn.
He doesn't move closer to her, holding back for now, but he doesn't shoo that hand away, even as he begins to talk.]
...When you showed up, I thought shit was gonna start shaping up.
[A sigh leaves him, as he presses his eyes closed tightly, his face twisting into something a bit more pained, maybe a little angry. He is angry, but he's also hurt. Not that the two were exclusive of each other, but the hurt is far more apparent than the anger, and that's certainly different than the norm.
Fortunately a lot of his steam was blown through earlier, so now he's just... tired. Helps that he's sobering the fuck up, Archie not quite letting him indulge in more alcohol since he nearly attacked Sun in his drunk, grief-filled rage.]
It ain't that I'm not fuckin' pumped as fuck that you're here, I know you know that—but shit, Plum... I wasn't expecting this to be some shitass exchange or nothing.
She and me, we... we had a good thing here, and now she's gone.
[Of course that thing was platonic, even if Guzma's side of it wasn't. But even so, even with her knowing of his feelings towards her, she was able to preserve things. She rejected him romantically, but she didn't reject him completely. That fucking meant something.]
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then, of course, there's this odd situation in and of itself. she's never had to deal with Guzma grieving. distantly, a part of her worries how far off the ledge he can fall in that sort of circumstance, and she hopes she can be of any help. it's not something she's used to confronting, so it's daunting.
Plumeria nods, and, quietly, her fingers curling on Archie's bicep as her sharp eyes catch his, and she quietly thanks him. it's a very layered thank you, one that she won't dissect.
when met with Guzma's weary gaze as Archie leaves, and Guzma's his intended effect is mostly received... but of course, Plumeria knows better. she watches as he shifts, and, her uncertainty unshown, Plumeria sits beside Guzma in the bed—only to shift onto her side, laying beside him. the disorienting, unbalanced weight of the room is weird and harrowing, almost like being drunk vicariously.
she doesn't initiate anything major; she's not used to this version of Guzma, but she's used to him being explosive and unpredictable. affection is one thing, easily doled and exchanged. but reassurance is sometimes difficult to give to Guzma; to receive it, one must wordlessly admit that they're vulnerable, after all. but he's soft enough now to be in this position in the first place, isn't he?
she extends a hand forward, brushing her thumb against his wrist. if he wants to talk, she'll listen, but it seems insulting to force his hand.]
no subject
While Plumeria has been the one that usually had seen him at his most vulnerable, even then that was a far cry from someone's usual standard of "vulnerable". He's grown a bit more used to letting down those walls, even if not completely, and comparatively it'd be a metaphorical few inches, than anything else. However, the state of vulnerability he's allowed himself to expose has been with others, not even Plumeria. Which makes it a little unsurprising that there's an awkward hesitance to him when it comes to this, maybe even a bit of embarrassment that she would see him like this.
So different than what she's used to—so different than what he's used to. Logically, he knows it should be fine, that if anyone at all is safe to be vulnerable with, it'd be her. Still, he feels some strange apprehension, perhaps some worry towards what she'd think of him. A worry he doesn't usually entertain, but he's since gotten in the habit of.
There's comfort in her joining him, though, and that eases him (and the room) a bit. As she lays before him on her side, it's clear she's sharing his own hesitance at the situation between them. Maybe that's what makes her touch one that's well received, seeing as he doesn't pull away from it or resist it in any other way. Easing some of the tension in his body and how he's holding himself. His conflicted and tired expression melting into something more solemn.
He doesn't move closer to her, holding back for now, but he doesn't shoo that hand away, even as he begins to talk.]
...When you showed up, I thought shit was gonna start shaping up.
[A sigh leaves him, as he presses his eyes closed tightly, his face twisting into something a bit more pained, maybe a little angry. He is angry, but he's also hurt. Not that the two were exclusive of each other, but the hurt is far more apparent than the anger, and that's certainly different than the norm.
Fortunately a lot of his steam was blown through earlier, so now he's just... tired. Helps that he's sobering the fuck up, Archie not quite letting him indulge in more alcohol since he nearly attacked Sun in his drunk, grief-filled rage.]
It ain't that I'm not fuckin' pumped as fuck that you're here, I know you know that—but shit, Plum... I wasn't expecting this to be some shitass exchange or nothing.
She and me, we... we had a good thing here, and now she's gone.
[Of course that thing was platonic, even if Guzma's side of it wasn't. But even so, even with her knowing of his feelings towards her, she was able to preserve things. She rejected him romantically, but she didn't reject him completely. That fucking meant something.]