All The Ways We Touch [BxB]

fifty-six - a return to normalcy pt. one

Sunday morning came just as early, but Elliot had been able to drag himself through the motions enough to get packed up and drive them to the airfield for their early flight back. With another couple coming to the treehouse for a proposal, the rental company had kindly requested they check out early, which neither minded. There was a lot to do back home, and while the prospect of returning to a potentially dangerous place had raised both their stress levels, they couldn't hide away forever, or well, Jamison wouldn't let them. Despite their early departure, he still managed to squeeze in some yoga and a run, and Elliot didn't even panic about it, a marked improvement from how he felt yesterday. Instead, he merely sipped his coffee and read his notes on the deck in the early morning sun. It seemed that he was handling the tiredness and inner turmoil with more grace, though Jamison was no less concerned about him.

When they returned to Forest Grove, Terrence was waiting in one of the black SUVs that Jamison had a feeling he would soon detest, but he still greeted the man enthusiastically, pleased that it wasn't yet Coby that he'd have standing just outside his peripheral vision. When they turned down Main Street, Jamison demanded they stop in at The House for a cup of coffee, but most importantly, to see Wren. She'd been more than accommodating to his sudden need for time off, and he needed to thank her in person.

"You should go home and nap," Jamison said as Terrence parked a block down the street and turned off the engine. He didn't plan on being long, especially not when there was likely going to be a late morning rush soon, and because he still wanted to continue to work on his drawing of the twisting tree while it was fresh in his mind.

Rolling his eyes, Elliot shook his head. "I'm not tired enough to nap," he insisted, his hand already on the door handle. It was unclear if Jamison was trying to get some space from him or if he was actually just back to being outright concerned for him.

Of course, he was going to give him pushback. "Then go home and study for your econ test," he suggested. "Or call Harvey."

"I can always study here if you're going to be long," he said, though he didn't bother to grab his notes. He could come back and grab them if this turned into a long visit. "After you make me my coffee, of course." If Jamison tried convincing him to go home a third time, he'd have his answer, but he hoped that he was wrong and just being sensitive. "I'll call her when we get home, there's no rush. She'll fit me in tomorrow. Hell, she'd fit me in today if I asked."

Nodding, Jamison hopped out of the vehicle, leaving his stuff behind. As soon as he began down the sidewalk, he could feel that he was being followed, which he supposed was a helpful skill. Obviously, it was only Terrence, but it made his skin crawl all the same. Although he was there to keep him safe, his body reacted similarly to if he were some creep, his senses on high alert in a way that drained him.

There wasn't enough time for Jamison to get through the doorway before Wren saw him, her delighted squeal louder than ever. Despite regularly seeing each other outside of work, it still didn't excite her any less when he walked through the door. "JAM!" Running around the counter, she wrapped her arms around the side of him, giving him a tighter hug than normal. It'd only been four days since they'd seen each other, but with the stress of the situation, emotions were running high. "I'm so happy to see you," she said, pressing her forehead against his temple without thinking.

Jamison had missed her more than he realized, but even so, her touch was too much when his nerves were even more heightened than usual. "I'm happy to see you, too," he said, trying to keep his tone light as his jaw tensed and hands balled into fists. The feeling of her skin burned against his own and caused a heavy wave of nausea to take hold of his stomach. Even so, he felt too guilty to pull away so quickly, but began his internal count to what would be an acceptable time to let her go. 'One, two, three...'