#commentary time

'ot3 feelings: the fic'

“I worry about him,” Alma says with a shake of her head, wiping at the wet surface of a plate. It’s just turned spring, the kind of exit from winter where the morning comes with flowers budding and the air smelling all of sunshine and rain, and she had cracked open the windows and let it swim around the kitchen. And she had seen fit to spend this beautiful day tidying up, even managing to drag her husband to the sink to help her with the dishes. The breeze tugs at the sleeves and hems of the matching-contrasting jackets hung in the hallway, green and white. I really like this description ok. it makes me feel cozy and at home and . stuff. spring is alma's season, for reals. (late fall is jowd's) “He has a good head on his shoulders,” Jowd replies. He, of course, gets the dirty work, scraping remnants of chicken and pasta from the plates and silverware. “Even if he is a ridiculous fool.” these kids. they know magically that they're talking about cabanela because when aren't they talking about cabanela Alma puts a plate in the drying rack, a high full noise ringing when she does. She has a sideways look, one she gets when she really means something. It’s the one with her lips pressed together and her head just tilted and her eyebrows drawn together. moms and wives have special Looks. The wind catches at her hair in its ponytail and tickles at her neck. It’s just turned spring this weekend and they’re talking about Cabanela. He’s visiting — he’s always visiting he's frickin furniture is what he is — and he’s slid slyly out the room as he does whenever Alma takes a sweeping look at the state of things and reaches for her husband’s wrist. haha you guys need to clean welp (VANISHES) what a snot Off to the bunker, Jowd likes to say, protecting him from dustpan fallout. And mostly, that’s fine; they’ve seen him stumble over a broom before, he’s more hindrance than help. They didn’t protest when he shed his coat and vanished like a snake slithering out of its skin. But Alma kept looking after him with the ever-present sparkle in her eye gone crooked. Turned slow like she didn’t want to take her eyes off the place he’d gone. She picks up another dish from her side of the sink and a breath turns into a thoughtful sound. “I know he has. Why do you think I keep him around?” She tries for a laugh — Jowd sees it ripple in her shoulders, then smooth away like it’s given up. “Still, he…” I can write alma (how can't you, she doeSN'T HAVE A PERSONALITY IN CANON. she has chicken, not a voice) but jowd is a complete and utter mystery. confusing. how you do,e va Alma looks down at the growing stack of dishes that’s piling up in the sink. Jowd can see in her profile the lines of a frown, and in those the swell of something asking to be said that she’s keeping locked away. He almost reaches up to brush hair off the line of her cheekbone, make that thought come clear, but he’s got dirty water on his hands and he settles for thumbing the rim of a glass instead.

i thought about this one a long time before i actually wrote it out, and mostly i just had the dialogue and general sense of things planned out. i'm pleased it turned out not-crappy. this next bit is basically what i had set out

“He’ll be fine, whatever it is that’s worrying you,” he says finally, pouring the glass empty and setting it on her stack. “Only the gods know how often he’s worried me, and he’s always pulled through—” “He loves you, you know?” Alma’s turned to him, suddenly, talking breathless like she’s run all the way here just to tell him this, a smile half-drawn on her face. esp this! like she rushed herself just to be able to say it It’s how her lips turn up but her eyes turn down that has Jowd setting the plate in his hand down before he drops it. Alma’s not a liar, and she’s not a prankster. (that last bit's not true) She wipes her hands on the thighs of her pants, then tucks loose hairs back behind her ears. “I mean,” she says quickly, even though her voice has this stutter like she’s choking on it. “He’s in love with you. Haven’t you seen it?” aw baby you're scared. she is scared though. not because she thinks that like. jowd'll leave or whatever. as if, he's leashed to her. she's more scared it'll change the way both of them act around cabanela if she voices it, and she doesn't want to lose that happy tight relationship they all have Jowd says “no.” Jowd can only think to say “no.” He’s blinking into a hurricane. 'sweetie i love you but u ackin cray-cray'