e_delmar | (no subject)

(no subject)

Something feels off lately, though Ennis can't place what. Feels better outside, away from the bar, though that ain't nothing different, really.

There's something, though, and Ennis sits near the lake, up on a big rock, smoking and trying to think of anything but.

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It catches River's attention. A moment -- head lifted, listening -- and then the fingers of one hand twitch at the air, the unthinking gesture she makes sometimes in thought or in distraction.

The tapping continues, as does the nod, though his eyes open a bit, as if he's just remembered where he is.

River's watching the air, or maybe watching nothing, her head tilted as if listening to something. Might be the tap tap tap of Ennis's boot, or might not.

Might be that, might be the sounds of Water Walkin' Jesus, sung in a caterwalling baritone.

River glances at Ennis as if he's said something, though he hasn't.

The foot stops tapping, and the head stops nodding as he turns to look at her with a questioning eye.

River's mouth opens, and then closes; she ducks her head in confusion, and shakes her head a little silently.

Ennis lowers his head, just a bit, mind you, looking up at River from under the brim of his hat. He pulls out another cigarette, but instead of lighting it, he twirls it between his fingers.

It's a minute or so before River looks back at him. But she does, through her hair.

She doesn't look upset, or tense. Just a little disoriented, and it's fading.

Ennis' more'n confused himself, can't quite tell why River's looking at him so. But he shrugs, and ducks his head, and looks away, almost embarrassed.

River regards him, for a moment. And then smiles, just a little. Reassuring, maybe.

He don't see it, quite, head turned and all, but something of a warm feeling comes, even against the cool spring breeze.

A few yards away, Boukephalos snorts, and meanders to another clump of grass to graze.

River's eyes drop again, and she watches the rock.

Rock ain't going nowhere.

Not very quickly, anyway.

Ennis turns his head to watch the horse move, and catches River's eye as he does, and there's something low there, dark.

River looks at him sidelong. She's silent.

Somewhere, a finch calls defiance, and is answered by a handful of others.

Ennis would sit there silently for hours, but Boukephalos nudges his hand with his head, and Ennis' head whips around and he doesn't quite snarl something under his breath before he catches himself and takes a deep breath.

Boukephalos's head jerks up, and he watches Ennis with more wariness, though no fear. He's a warhorse; he doesn't fear weapons or screaming men or the smell of blood, let alone Ennis's temper.

River, on the other hand, doesn't move. Just keeps watching Ennis, and gives him a minute in silence.

A minute, an hour, he'd take it all if it was given to him. Take it all and throw it away, and damn if he didn't wish he had something to drink, or something heavy to throw, but he doesn't, he's got himself and he's got River, and he looks at her and fakes a smile.

River ducks her head, eyes falling.

"Don't have to." Low.

Breath in, and out. "There's grass."

"I know."

He says it soft and quiet, voice rumbling, and the smile falls.

"Same grass."

He don't sound too certain of that, though.

River glances at him again, head still bent.

Tries a smile. It's not faked; it is hesitant.

His fingers clench, and maybe if she was one of his girls, he'd reach out and squeeze her arm, but she ain't, and he doesn't, and he can't help remembering that.

"Same water, same sky."

Ain't really obvious who he's trying to convince.

She's not his, and she's not one of his either. They both know it. But he's Ennis, and she's River, and that's something, anyway.

River pulls a knee up to her chest, curling her toes against stone, and wraps her arms loosely around it.

Softly, "So close your eyes."

He looks at her, not a little skeptical, not a little angry and upset. But he breathes, gotta remember to breathe, and closes his eyes.

Ennis is like Mal, sometimes.

And Mal's kind of like this, right now.

"Let the clouds change," she whispers.

"Storm's gonna pass."