He nods and doesn't argue with that in turn, his eyes soft and kinder than they ever are. "I love you too, Letty Ortiz. You're the best woman I've ever known, and don't let Polly hear that."
It's inaccurate to say that this is the side of the man she fell in love with, because she fell for the whole of him, not just the side that rocks her in the middle of the night and tells her he loves her. She loves, too, the hard-eyed soldier that knows how to make tough but necessary calls, she loves the deep, loyal root of his heart, she loves the barbed wire he's put up around it to keep all others out. She loves his cunning and his ruthlessness and his stubbornness and his recklessness.
She loves his strength. "I wasn't born stupid enough to cross that woman," she assures him, and she kisses his chest where her head is resting because it feels three sizes too big for her shoulders, because her eyes still sting, her entire face feels puffy and hot and she doesn't want to move any more than they already have. That still leaves her fingertips in range to card through his shortshorn hair, so she does.
Neither of them are much given to tenderness, but they are both more than capable of it.
"I'd yell it from the bloody rooftops if I was sure I'd leave with my dignity still intact," he says, gently ribbing her. He's stroking her hair as much as she is stroking his, now, and it's a pleasant loop of feedback.
"D'you want some water, love? Something stronger?"
"Not that," she corrects, quietly, but she lets it stand with a small smile, the motion of her hand slowing to trace the edge of her thumb along his cheek now that she's looking at him.
And then he says that and she makes a sound that, on a better day, will be a laugh. "Good lord, yes," she agrees immediately, until she realizes he'll have to get up to get it, and for one, childish moment she doesn't want that at all.
Then she gets hold of herself - women's hysterics, she admonishes herself again silently, and starts to take her own weight back from him, reluctant as she is to do so.
"We can go back to our bed," he offers, stroking his knuckles along her shoulder and upper arm. He has a bottle there, and a glass, which is an old habit he hasn't broken and has no interest in breaking either.
"Alright, love. Let's go, then." He kisses the top of her head, lingering a little before he helps her up. He keeps an arm around her waist as they walk, quietly, careful not to wake anyone else.
He settles the blanket around her shoulders before he pours her a drink, and then he sits back down and pulls her up against him. "Think you'll be able to sleep again tonight?" He suspects not.
Letty, for once, lets him help her up and leans against him down the hallway; she could have made it on her own, of course, but she doesn't have to. For once since she left her mother's kumpania she doesn't have to, so she doesn't, just lets him lead and follows where he goes.
She accepts both the blanket and the drink and, drinking it in small, slow mouthfuls, she's quick to tuck her feet back under her and lean against him, tucking herself in close against him, shoving away the way she feels foolish now, drowning it in another mouthful of liquor.
And, unsurprisingly, she shakes her head after only a moment. "No," she confirms. Not tonight. She is, if she's honest, a little afraid to try. But her free hand is over his chest again, her thumb tracing the line of his collarbone, and she frowns a little. "You should still try though. It's not worth two of us dragging the day through."
"Ah, I'm awake now," he dismisses that with, as his thumb rubs slow circles into her upper arm. He likes the solid weight of her against him, the warmth of her body and the touch of her hand on his collarbone. It helps with telling himself she'll be okay: she's still here, after all.
She is tired but it's the edge-singing kind and not the absolute, bone tired kind that would make her do something stupid once they both go about their day; her eyes will burn and her mind will feel heavy, but she'll make it. She's real, and she's still here, and she'll be okay.
She presses her lips together but part of her is relieved enough not to argue and anyway, they are similarly stubborn between them. Not worth it. Not when she wants the company anyway, selfishly.
"Shall we review the numbers for the month," she asks dryly, teasing. She could - she has the important ones memorized, because the safest place for them is in her own head - but she knows that's not what he means.
She only bites her lip instead of giving him the satisfaction of yipping like she sometimes does when he surprises her, pulling her thumbnail across his skin by way of retaliation, but that's where she drops it. She's looking at the crescent-shaped bruise on her knuckle. She's thinking about family.
"They're fantastic," she says, and the truth of it is that they've all accepted her and she's accepted them, and that doesn't mean everything has been smooth, but it doesn't mean she needs it to be. It's the right kind of in-fighting, sharp and sudden and resolved in the next moment instead of carrying over, gruff and chafing but not serious enough to hold onto. Arthur scares her, not for herself; Michael amuses her, not always intentionally; she and Polly bicker like dogs with a fence between them and yet turn as a single unit on anyone attempting to intervene; she and Ada have the most in common and the least to do with one another.
They're fantastic. "Realized I'm not going anywhere, I think, and decided to go ahead and accept that more or less. It's everyone else still having trouble with that notion. They say you've odd taste."
"And what they mean by that is that they're jealous," he says, mildly- but he's smiling, because he can hear how genuinely she meant that. It warms him right up, to notice and to hear how close she's become to them.
It's two of the most important things in his life, coming together peacefully. It lets him rest easy at night, makes both his business and personal life so much better.
"They wouldn't know what to do with a woman like you."
She takes refuge in that knowledge for a moment, letting her eyes fall halfway closed and breathing deeply until the smell of the liquor stings her nose.
Then her lips quirk. "Am I to assume that means you think you do, Mr. Shelby?"
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2016-04-29 08:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-04-29 08:54 am (UTC)She loves his strength. "I wasn't born stupid enough to cross that woman," she assures him, and she kisses his chest where her head is resting because it feels three sizes too big for her shoulders, because her eyes still sting, her entire face feels puffy and hot and she doesn't want to move any more than they already have. That still leaves her fingertips in range to card through his shortshorn hair, so she does.
Neither of them are much given to tenderness, but they are both more than capable of it.
"You won't tell anyone."
no subject
Date: 2016-04-29 09:48 am (UTC)"D'you want some water, love? Something stronger?"
no subject
Date: 2016-05-03 07:59 am (UTC)And then he says that and she makes a sound that, on a better day, will be a laugh. "Good lord, yes," she agrees immediately, until she realizes he'll have to get up to get it, and for one, childish moment she doesn't want that at all.
Then she gets hold of herself - women's hysterics, she admonishes herself again silently, and starts to take her own weight back from him, reluctant as she is to do so.
no subject
Date: 2016-05-03 08:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-05-03 08:10 am (UTC)"I'd like that best," she admits, still quiet, her voice still rough.
no subject
Date: 2016-05-03 08:37 am (UTC)He settles the blanket around her shoulders before he pours her a drink, and then he sits back down and pulls her up against him. "Think you'll be able to sleep again tonight?" He suspects not.
no subject
Date: 2016-05-03 10:44 am (UTC)She accepts both the blanket and the drink and, drinking it in small, slow mouthfuls, she's quick to tuck her feet back under her and lean against him, tucking herself in close against him, shoving away the way she feels foolish now, drowning it in another mouthful of liquor.
And, unsurprisingly, she shakes her head after only a moment. "No," she confirms. Not tonight. She is, if she's honest, a little afraid to try. But her free hand is over his chest again, her thumb tracing the line of his collarbone, and she frowns a little. "You should still try though. It's not worth two of us dragging the day through."
no subject
Date: 2016-05-04 12:29 pm (UTC)"I'll keep you company, eh? We can talk."
no subject
Date: 2016-05-04 03:44 pm (UTC)She presses her lips together but part of her is relieved enough not to argue and anyway, they are similarly stubborn between them. Not worth it. Not when she wants the company anyway, selfishly.
"Shall we review the numbers for the month," she asks dryly, teasing. She could - she has the important ones memorized, because the safest place for them is in her own head - but she knows that's not what he means.
no subject
Date: 2016-05-07 06:06 pm (UTC)"I don't think so, Miss Ortiz. How about you tell me how my loving family has been treating you lately, eh?"
no subject
Date: 2016-05-10 06:21 am (UTC)"They're fantastic," she says, and the truth of it is that they've all accepted her and she's accepted them, and that doesn't mean everything has been smooth, but it doesn't mean she needs it to be. It's the right kind of in-fighting, sharp and sudden and resolved in the next moment instead of carrying over, gruff and chafing but not serious enough to hold onto. Arthur scares her, not for herself; Michael amuses her, not always intentionally; she and Polly bicker like dogs with a fence between them and yet turn as a single unit on anyone attempting to intervene; she and Ada have the most in common and the least to do with one another.
They're fantastic. "Realized I'm not going anywhere, I think, and decided to go ahead and accept that more or less. It's everyone else still having trouble with that notion. They say you've odd taste."
no subject
Date: 2016-05-12 11:55 am (UTC)It's two of the most important things in his life, coming together peacefully. It lets him rest easy at night, makes both his business and personal life so much better.
"They wouldn't know what to do with a woman like you."
no subject
Date: 2016-05-16 08:09 am (UTC)Then her lips quirk. "Am I to assume that means you think you do, Mr. Shelby?"
no subject
Date: 2016-05-16 09:15 am (UTC)"I think I stand a fair change of figuring it out somewhere along the way," he concedes, leaning to press a kiss to her temple.