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Broken Thoughts:
Indecisions
He looks at her—standing there, staring at him with a face warped with indecision—and he can't help but think: I'm such an ass.
Earlier that day, he had felt so confident, so twisted in his own merry world—because his fantasy was coming true. His calling. He was going to sail to the Caribbean's for God's sake. He was thrilled.
And yet he knew something would happen. The saying, "no one ever got a free lunch," or something like that kept getting in his head when he thought about his new ship. His new adventure. All the while something was nagging him. Telling him that not everything could be possibly perfect. This was reality for God's sake.
But.
Damn that voice. Damn it to hell.
So he ignores it.
And he stands there, in her office, asking her to take a freaking sabbatical. He chooses to be oblivious to common sense, blabbering on about how great it would be and how… how magical and—he knew he took a wrong step when he said the next one—romantic. He sees how her pupils dilate, how her bottom lip so slightly trembles, and he knows.
He was going to lose her.
"Just—just think about it. Okay?"
"Sully…"
He can't help it. He begs. "Please?"
He sees her chin droop, her mouth tighten and then try to smile. She nods.
A moment of awkward silence.
"Do you—do you want a hug?"
It's all he can do to keep himself from banging his forehead on a desk.
"No? Okay… just—just asking…"
He sees her—almost—imperceptibly twitch. Then she's in his arms. And breathing in her scent (her Dove soap and shampoo, the Downy detergent on her clean clothes) Sully couldn't believe what he was risking. What he was giving up. He pats her hair and runs his hand through the tangle-free softness.
"Tempy…" He doesn't say it out loud—for fear of ruining this, their, moment. So he sighs it in his mind.
I am such an ass.