Wretched

Joy Smithers… also known as the actress who was the original choice to play Max’s wife, Jessie, in the first Mad Max.

She deserves the butt touch.

She deserves the butt touch.

I would rather touch Tom Hardy’s butt than kiss Mel Gibson. Just sayin’.

//I’d rather kiss Tom Hardy’s butt than kiss Mel Gibson in general. 

Jess let one foot dangle over the side of the bed, feeling around the air with her toes until they brushed hair. “You’re not sleeping under the bed.”

He glanced up towards her and smiled. “Be up in a second.”

She twiddled her toes against the top of his head, wheedling, “Just bring ‘em up with.”

He shook his head. “Need to stay with Scaredy…” He gently kissed the top of Small’s head before putting her back with the other puppies. “No whining, you lot.”

“You saying my baby can’t come up here too?” Jess tsked, settling back against the mattress as he murmured his goodnights and no doubt got side tracked by the snuffling little squeakers. “What a harsh grandpa you are.”

Jess let one foot dangle over the side of the bed, feeling around the air with her toes until they brushed hair. “You’re not sleeping under the bed.”

He glanced up towards her and smiled. “Be up in a second.”

She twiddled her toes against the top of his head, wheedling, “Just bring ‘em up with.”

Jess let one foot dangle over the side of the bed, feeling around the air with her toes until they brushed hair. “You’re not sleeping under the bed.”

Mind you, Jess IS a tiny woman and had a difficult/dangerous time toward the end with Sprog, but. The general mystery of pregnancy is gone for the most part.

Jess extended her open palm toward him and lowered her feet to the floor, gritty and cool against her toes. She was tired. So tired, but something in his pacing had made her sleep uneasy. “What can I do, Baby?”  He needed to sleep. She was sure he hadn’t slept and it felt like morning. “What’s scaring you? Hm?”

Jess searched his downturned eyes, having to dip her head to catch them at all. There wasn’t anything she could fix, the past being the past, but it was something that he was present enough to squeeze her hand between his own.  “You wanna talk about...?” She asked. Slow and hushed for the hunted look about him. Her fingers curled against his. “We could go for a walk?” It was hard to guess without windows, but she thought it might be dark out still. The lack of that faint, echoing commotion from the garage level suggested it.