have a winning day 👍

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ claire / 34 / AFTG sideblog (to madefate) / lesbians 4 jean moreau / writing / president of the kerejean society

It’s only because they’re touching that Jeremy feels the whisper-faint tremors rattling Jean’s body. In a sudden fit of brazenness he puts down the washcloth and takes both of Jean’s hands in his.  The moment he does, Jean looks at him as if he’s seeing something enormous and indescribable for the first time. It overwhelms Jeremy, and he’s transfixed. Jean’s lips part and he mouths something without sound a few times before his voice returns.  “Jeremy…”  “I’ll stop if you want me to,” he says firmly. Jean’s fingers seem to instinctively curl around Jeremy’s, holding him in place.  “Please do not.”  Please again, and for the first time, Jean seems his age. Not a veteran of life, wisened with years of experience, but twenty four and used to carrying himself with a bulletproof facade and a world of emotion trapped below the surface.  If all Jeremy could do was hold onto Jean’s hands like this for an eternity, he’d take the chance and never look back. 

“The Pacific Ocean is very beautiful.” Jean’s voice is even and steady and Jeremy can’t help but look up at him with a wide, owlish gaze, like he’s found something solid in the midst of the sea. Jean isn’t looking at him. The light from the stars and moon reflect in his eyes. There are so few places where you can still see stars in L.A. but the ocean provides a quiet darkness that lets them shine through the lights and smog.  Ethereal. Dangerous.  Also confusing. He has no idea why Jean has broached this particular train of thought, but it’s nice to let him fill the silence so Jeremy doesn’t have to.  “Cat showed me the big road. Highway. The uh—” He waves a hand in lieu of remembering the name. “It went along the coastline. I had not seen anything like it.”  “Pacific Coast Highway,” Jeremy supplies. His voice is rough but Jean doesn’t react except to nod.  “She said it goes for miles, all along California. Your state is disturbingly large.”  It startles a chuckle out of Jeremy and he feels some of the stiffness of his shoulders relax. The voices of their crew are distant, a low and harmonious hum far enough to afford them privacy but close enough to know they are still present and accounted for.  His heart squeezes with warmth at all of these small and infinitely significant kindnesses, given without asking.