wasted youth

Cristina made a face. While she did not quite understand most instances of mockery, she could see that this was in playful jest. “I don’t think you know how crazy I was about you before we started dating. If I could get you to pay me some attention, it was worth interrupting any of my projects.” The past tense might have been a mistake, but she had been deliberate in specifying why this was in the past tense. Hopefully timing sufficed.

“Oh?” Apparently she had read the situation very wrong. It did not feel like this was not Kara’s home anymore. Even with the length of time that had passed, there were still so many memories here. It did not feel right to voice those exact thoughts aloud, however. “You brought your bag here, so I imagined you had taken me up on the offer to stay. But I was mistaken. I will wholeheartedly accept the proposition of an in-person conversation.” Staring down at the loosely clasped hands, Cristina wondered what needed to occur in order to ensure that she might get to see such hand joining with increased frequency.

Kara raised an eyebrow, not having heard this story before. She knew that there had been a spark there between them but she hadn’t known that for Cristina it had started so early. Maybe one day she’d be told the full tale. Today, however, was not that day. Looking down at her bag, she blinked several times before realizing what the other woman might have thought. Fuck.

Cristina resisted the urge to roll her eyes. The tough guy act meant nothing in the face of permanent bodily harm. “We shall discuss the topic of further health care later, then.” She also had to resist the urge to add that if these injuries kept piling on, they would likely lead to premature retirement. Not that Cristina was complaining about that notion– there was not much for her to like about Kara’s line of work. But that was a perpetual argument that was not worth getting into. It meant so much that Kara was back alive without needing to be chased.

She wondered if she was supposed to know (or care) who Taylor was. Clearly this Taylor imbecile did not have a sense of preservation or observation skills to write home about. Annoying. “I’m still used to not expecting much in the way of replies when they send you off, Kara. Plus I thought you just needed to dwell on your thoughts, and who was I to press more than I already have?”

The idea of having her evening interrupted was laughable. “You could never really interrupt me.” Such a statement was probably one of the most loving things that Cristina could say to anyone, despite her neutral expression. “I have simply been toying with a new spell idea and awaiting a delivery.” But mostly hoping that said delivery showed up soon. “But I could use your company. Were you planning on staying the night?” Cristina desperately hoped for the affirmative response, reaching a hand forward just enough to brush her ex-maybe-not-something’s hands.

Kara scoffed at the idea of never really interrupting Cristina. “You seem to forget that I interrupted you on more than one occasion in college. Whether it was while you were studying, or practicing, or sleuthing or... You get the picture. You’re easy to interrupt because unlike the rest of us, you always had something to do. That big brain of yours could never get enough, I think.” She smiled softly, the words coming out in a teasing tone.

The brunette was about to ask what the delivery was when she heard Cristina ask her if she was going to stay the night. A slight cough of surprise was quickly suppressed as she stared at the other woman. “Staying the night? I uh... This isn’t my home anymore. Remember?” She trailed off when a familiar touch brushed against her hand. The movement caused her to instinctively reciprocate the touch, two fingers gently entangling with some of Cristina’s for a moment.

While Cristina did not typically expect visitors, she had, in fact ordered a 3D pen from a commonfolk internet shop. The tracking information for the shipment hinted an expected arrival for that day. Against better(?) judgment, Cristina had not set up a complicated array of traps around the front door to prevent visitation, so she could receive packages at her home location. 

Fully expecting to make awkward small talk with a delivery person when she heard the knock, Cristina speed-walked toward the door. Wary of visitors, she peered through the peephole upon arrival, and saw Kara… looking absolutely terrible. Resisting the urge to state that this was not her 3D pen, Cristina made a quick assessment of what was within view. Apart from Kara appearing worse for wear, the strap of the bag typically taken during missions was visible. Cristina interpreted this to mean that Kara had not stopped anywhere else for very long since departing from the mission site.

She opened the door, and deliberately did not block the doorway. “Welcome back. Please do come in. Have you received adequate medical attention, or should we do something about that once you have had a chance to breathe?”

When Cristina opened the door, Kara expected... Well... She didn’t know what she expected. But it wasn’t for Cristina to seem so nonchalant at seeing her after she’d been all but gone for two weeks. That wasn’t to say that the compassion wasn’t there, it was. Cristina was just not focusing on the right things, or at least, that’s what Kara thought. Continuing to gnaw softly on her lip, she took a step inside, taking off her duffel with a wince as the door closed behind her. “Medical attention happened but.. You know me. I’d rather deal with injuries the natural way. Builds character.” And reminds me of my mistakes.

“I’m sorry I never responded to your texts. We got tipped off that there was enemy activity and we left immediately. However, they got the jump on us because Taylor didn’t check her blind spot and...Well... All of this.” She gestured to herself before coming to stand up closer to Cristina. As she stared down at her, her first instinct was to touch her. To hold her. To kiss her. But the more she thought about it, the less likely she knew it was going to happen. Two weeks since they last spoke had made her think more about Cristina. About them.