saturday night and the moon is out

[feel_human]

Tucked away off the road in Bon Temps, there's a road house. Warm light spills from its windows, and the sound of a jukebox playing drifts out into the muggy Louisiana night. The regular assortment of trucks and Hail-Mary-please-keep-this-lemon-goin'-just-a-little-longer cars sit in the dirt parking lot; what amounts to about half the town's small population... or, at least, of those of the 'drinking age and above' persuasion.

Inside, it's a bar of the type scattered all across the American South: homey, no-nonsense. Booths and tables. A man in a plaid flannel shirt wiping the bar; a crossdresser in the kitchen singing Gospel hymns and rolling his hips in time with the words just to scandalize the prep cook. A handful of waitresses, bustling about.

Sookie makes her way briskly through it all, a tray balanced on her palm and her eyes kept stubbornly front, as voices swarm around her. Aloud, and... less so.

...I’m just going to have one beer tonight Jesus one beer that’s all...

...better not gripe about me eating fries not after what I did for him last night...

...I cannot wait to get the hell out of this podunk town...

 

 "Well, make sure you do, and before it’s too late," she responds, thoughtless, to the young man. "Because every year you wait? You just get more and more stuck here. Believe me, I know."

He stares at her. So do his parents.

So does the other table. And she realizes, too little too late, that he hadn't said that out loud, not at all. She laughs, uncomfortable. "I’ll get y'all some ketchup," she says, brightly, and flees, ponytail swinging against the nape of her neck as she goes.

Stupid, Sookie, she chides herself. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

 

Comments

[feel_human]

"I..."

Of all people, he'd probably understand the fear she has, that as soon as she pushes beneath the surface, something will grab her and drag her under, far from light and air and the world she lives in. Even now, as he idly kicks, perfectly safe, she's sure that if she were to slip into the water, something would try to pull her down, even with him right there. "My parents," she says, finally.

It's not everything, but it is the moment she can point to, to say: the water is dangerous. "They died in a flash flood. I haven't liked water since."

[gavemea_45]

Understanding strikes like a bolt of lightning. "Oh, Sookie," he says, softly. "I'm sorry."

[feel_human]

"It's okay," she hastens to assure him. "It was a long time ago, I was just a kid. And I don't mind bein' by it, or watchin' someone else in it. I've just never been able to shake the feeling that if I go in... somethin's gonna pull me down, too."

[gavemea_45]

"No, I get that." He kicks his feet slowly, almost absently, holding his position. "Did they... was it here?"

[feel_human]

She shakes her head.

"No. On a bridge over the river. We cross it goin' back and forth to Merlotte's."

[gavemea_45]

He nods. "I won't pull you in," he promises. "Or splash you, or anything like that. And I'll... well, I'll try not to drip on you."

[feel_human]

She laughs a little and shakes her head. "I'm not worried about that," she tells him, amused and touched in equal measure. "And I don't mind bein' dripped on. I take showers, after all."

[gavemea_45]

Sam laughs. "I'd hope showers are warmer and maybe cleaner than a lake," he teases. "But okay, I take your point."

[feel_human]

She nudges with her toes at the arms he has crossed on the pier, smiling. "Don't let me hold you back. I bet that water feels real nice and refreshing."

[gavemea_45]

"It does," he admits. "Okay, as long as you're sure."

Sam pushes off from the pier and starts for the center of the pond with long, smooth strokes.

[feel_human]

She shades her eyes from the sun and watches after him, admiring the clean way he cuts through the water. Probably the best thing for her to do about her fears is to learn how to swim so she feels comfortable in the water, but she might have missed her opportunity.

At the very least, she can appreciate his ability, and feel satisfied in giving him the chance to cool off.

[gavemea_45]

He reaches the center of the pond and jackknifes into a dive, testing the depths before he turns and heads for light and air once more. It's maybe a little deeper than the nine feet Sookie'd claimed, but not much if so.

Sam lets himself float on his back, looking up at the sun, and relaxes for a moment or two.

[feel_human]

She peers into the water to try and see where he's gone, fighting a wave of unnecessary anxiety. He's a good swimmer, clearly, and this is a swimming hole, not a flash flood.

Still, she relaxes slightly when he comes up for air and smiles to see him floating around like a log.

[gavemea_45]

After a few minutes, he turns over and makes his lazy way back toward the pier. Sam pulls himself out of the water with a smooth economy of motion, and sits on the boards beside her.

"Pretty refreshing."

[feel_human]

"Good," she says, looking just as pleased as if she'd been swimming around herself.

"You can come down here whenever you like. Might be nice, considerin' this heat wave we're havin'."

[gavemea_45]

"Thanks. I'll keep it in mind." As promised, he's careful not to drip on her as he leans over to give her a quick kiss.

[feel_human]

She kisses him back, daintily, then grins at him and reaches up to rifle her fingers through his shaggy wet hair. "You look so cute."

[gavemea_45]

"I'd have thought I'd look more like a wet rat," he drawls, leaning into her touch.

[feel_human]

"Uh-uh."

She giggles and wipes his wet hair off his forehead. "Maybe a wet dog."

[gavemea_45]

"Woof," he teases. "Anyway, there's no outdoing you when it comes to cute."

[feel_human]

She wrinkles up her nose and giggles again. "You give me a pretty good run for my money, puppy dog," she teases back. "Just don't shake all over me, you hear?"

[gavemea_45]

He shoves his hair back from his face and gives her a mischievous grin.

"If you insist."

[feel_human]

She holds up her hands to fend off any incoming water droplets, laughing at his mischief. "You better behave," she scolds, mock-stern.

"Or else you won't get any pie."

[gavemea_45]

He stretches out on the dock, laughing up at her. "Okay, you've convinced me."

[feel_human]

"Good."

She leans down to kiss him, not minding at all that her dry skin presses to his wet body. "Then we can go have some, whenever you're done pretendin' to be a fish."