Untouchable

13: Communication

Jarvis comes back in the evening, the usual time, pushes the door to the common room open after knocking. He seems subdued, withdrawn, hesitant, as if he isn't certain that he is welcome anymore. Holly is out of her chair before he has stepped into the room, throws her arms around him, holds him tight, as if he might change his mind otherwise. Feels the stubble on his chin against her temple, a large hand against her back, hears Lynch chuckle.

"I think she missed you."

"I..." Jarvis starts, grows quiet as she looks up at him, the faintest hint of a smile on his lips. "I suppose so."

Lynch finishes his drink in one swing, puts the glass down with an audible click, gets up from the couch. Holly does not doubt that he can tell that something isn't right but is not in the habit of asking questions about their relationship.

"Maybe one day I'll find someone that excited to see me at the end of the day," he says, sounds amused. Jarvis' arms tighten a little around her, strong, warm, safe. "Good night."

"Good night, commissar."

"Good night, sir," she glances over at him, still holding on to Jarvis. Only sees Lynch's back, giving them a wave as he heads to his private rooms. Cedes the common room for them. They stay only for a little while before they retreat to their bedroom, turn on the lights, close the door.

It is a quiet evening, but it is together. They barely talk, lie silent and touch, soft, gentle caresses, physical assurances of affection where verbal ones seem too overwhelming. Jarvis turns off the lights early, surprises her as she waits by the middle of the bed when he gets in on her side, holds her close as if there is no more space available to them, as if the new bed is too big for him as well tonight.

She wakes early, before his alarm is set to go off but not by much. Lies curled up against him, still only occupying the limited space their old bed would have afforded them. He appears to still be asleep so she leans in, kisses his neck, the curve of his ear, his jawline. Hears his breathing change, feels the arm around her squeeze her a little closer as he hums his approval.

"You've got two minutes," Holly tells him, kisses his cheek once, twice.

"This is nice," he murmurs, so she continues to leave a trail of kisses on his cheekbone, his nose, his lips, runs her fingers through his hair. It is getting long enough to start to curl a little on top, she notes, predicts a haircut in the not-so-distant future.

By the time the alarm goes off he is fully awake, firmly reminded of her opinion of him in a manner he seems to be able to accept. He kisses her before he climbs out of bed, seems happy, she notes as he dresses, sees him glance over at her a couple of times with a small smile on his lips. She makes a mental note to wake him up with kisses again in the future.

Jarvis kisses her again before he leaves, lingers as he does so, wordlessly lets her know that he cares for her too. Once he closes the door, walks down the hallway, the sound of his boots growing fainter until she cannot hear him at all, Holly gets out of bed. She discards the nightgown, gets in the shower, begins her own morning routine.

Lynch steps into the dining room shortly after she's had a seat, the steward pouring them their recaff, excusing himself, leaves them to eat in peace. They bid each other good morning, start to eat while he fiddles with his dataslate as usual. It doesn't take long before Lynch clears his throat, evidently wants her attention so she complies, looks up, waits.

"So, how are things going?" he asks cautiously, seems hesitant to pry. "With your guardsman."

She suppresses the urge to say that everything is fine. Lynch is a friend, he asks because he cares, worries. Instead, she provides him with a small smile, briefly glances down at her plate, shrugs her shoulders.