Hands All Over

Ch. 21 Everything's Okay

Juice looked up from the shitty hospital TV when he heard the familiar sound of flip flops against tile. A few hours earlier, Angela had called him to apologize for not being there as soon as visiting hours started, explaining she'd had to help at three funerals and had four more bodies to prepare so she wouldn't be there until late. He didn't mind much, he was just happy she was going to visit him eventually. He smiled faintly when she walked into the room. Her long dark hair hung down her shoulders, just like he liked it, crimped by the braid he assumed it had been in all day. She was wearing a simple purple tank top and a pair of velour sweatpants that pooled around her feet. Her dark brown eyes were worried as she approached, though the smile on her beautiful face put him at ease. "Hey baby," he greeted, reaching out a hand for her.

"Hey you," she replied, as was custom. The weight of her worry eased as his grin blossomed into the smile she loved. She let out a small sigh of relief; if he was smiling at her like that, than he had to be okay. "How you feeling?"

"Good, better," he answered, patting the bed next to him. He tilted his head up towards her, his eyes seeking hers.

She leaned over the bed and obliged him with the kiss she knew he wanted. "You scared the shit outta me, Juice."

"I'm sorry," he muttered, watching her as she kicked off her flip flops before taking a seat on the edge of his bed, one leg curled under her, the other just hovering off the tiled floor as she faced him. "How'd you end up there anyway?"

Angela shrugged a shoulder. "Skeeter had a pick up there. You have to go through the infirmary to get to the morgue."

He nodded in response. It made sense for the morgue to be by the infirmary. Prisoners who got stuck in the infirmary usually were sent there next. "The stuff that Stahl said...about me not caring..."

"Don't worry about it, Juice," she said, cutting him off with a small smile.

He scowled at her, his eyes on her legs instead of her face, his fingers sliding up and down the soft material on her thigh. "It's not true, you know. I...I do...care," he said, fumbling for the right words. He took a second to glance at her face as he swallowed hard. "A lot."

A stampede of butterflies made its way through Angela's stomach at his words. She knew he cared about her, but he'd never said it out loud before. "I know," she said, smiling at him. "I care about you too."

"I know," he said with a small smile. His hands slid higher up on her thigh as he gave her a curious look. He'd never seen her in sweatpants like those before. She usually wore the normal ones with the cinched legs, not this fancy girly shit. "Pimpin' sweatpants, Angel," he commented, changing the subject.

Angela laughed, happy for the subject change. Talking about feelings was not one of her favorite things to do. Her whole family avoided those kinds of things like the plague. "You like 'em?" she asked, a little skeptical. They'd been on sale and she bought them for one reason and one reason only. "Check out the back."

He watched as she stood, turning around to show him the seat of her pants. They hugged the curves of her ass perfectly, but that wasn't the only thing that had turned him , emblazoned across her ass was the word: Juicy. "Damn girl," he said under his breath, watching as she sat back down in the same place she'd been before.

She was much too far away, he decided, leaning forward to wrap an arm around her waist and pull her onto him. She let out a shocked gasp as she fell forward, trying her best to avoid falling directly on his chest so as not to hurt him. "Juice!" she exclaimed on a laugh as his hand smacked her ass.

"Hey, it's got my name on it!" he justified, his fingers tracing over the lettering. He tangled his other hand into her dark hair, using his grip to tilt her head back to gain better access to her lips.