sixwordstories | (no subject)

My statement didn't really have anything to do with good coffee versus bad coffee, did it? I just made the statement that it doesn't take a genius to brew a pot.

No, but something had to bring the statement up in the first place.

I'm simply dismayed at the fact that I am actually expected to tip some kid for doing his job and pouring me a cup of coffee.

Considering the prices of coffee these days, yeah I see where you're coming from.

Seems someone's feeling better.

Tackling life's little injustices always puts me in a far better mood. [Still, though Jude might feel better, his breathing isn't necessarily on par with where it should be. And the way he's dressed in not only a long-sleeved shirt and a fleece pullover, but also has a blanket over his legs might be an indication that he's not totally great.]

[Hey, at least he had some of his humor back] Good to see your usual humor of the whole world back.

What is there not to laugh about? The world's going to shit, anyway. [This seems equally as amusing to Jude, and when he laughs he rasps and clears his throat a little painfully into the side of his fist.]

Speaking of coffee, am I going to have to pay you to pour me a cup?

[She wasn't going to step in, not yet since she didn't feel a need.]

Nope, no need to tip me either.

Great. [Jude doesn't offer his thanks, just the expectation that Holly will get him the cup of coffee as requested. He shifts the blanket around his legs and moves back to his desk, reaching for the pencil brace and using his left hand and his teeth to align it and tighten it over his right fist so he could continue taking the scribbled notes.]

[Which she did. No questions asked, putting it in the thermal cup and testing the sides to make sure they didn't get too hot as she carried it back over.]

[He had only gotten the first word of his next thought written by the time she came to deliver the coffee. Jude glanced up at Holly briefly, then back down to the page. His notes had become progressively sloppier and sloppier, but even the first few lines were hardy readable. As he quickly scrawled each word across the page, his handwriting became little more than scribbles. When finished, Jude nodded to her and reached out to take up the mug.]

Thanks, Holly.

[she glanced down at the notes and frowned, pulling a chair up next to him, she continued glancing at them.] You want me to scribble some things down for you? Give yourself a break?

[Jude watched as she pulled up a chair, his eyes narrowing considerably when she settled in next to him. He watched her look over the notes, half-expecting her to make a comment on one idea he had written or another. Instead, when she offered to take the notes for him for a while, his expression grew into a deeper frown. He looked at the page again, studying it hard. After a minute of silence, Jude exhaled and raised his fist. With his teeth, he roughly ripped the velcro strap open and weakly shook the brace from his fist.]

If it'll make you feel better, sure. Go ahead.

[Though he tried to be flippant, the way he held his right arm showed that it was sore from what little writing he had already done.]

[She picked up the pen and snagged the papers, looking at him a minute before looking to his hand] How long has it been hurting?

[He knew what she meant, but Jude decided to intentionally misunderstand her in order to get out of having to answer.] My hand doesn't hurt. It doesn't feel like anything, in fact. You know I can't feel it. [Jude raised an eyebrow pointedly. But when he moved his elbow, it brought on a grimace and he shook his head.] Everything hurts lately. I'm just sore. I've been writing a lot.

[She sighed and eyed his arm, just observing to see if it's swollen or not. She just shifted in the chair and poised the pen] Ready when you are.

Where was I? [Jude craned his neck to look over her shoulder at the last bullet point he had just scrawled across the page. His eyes narrowed as he tried to decipher his own handwriting, but it seemed like a losing battle. As the moment passed, his expression became more and more uncertain.]

Can you read any of that?

Honestly Jude? [she turned to look at him and shook her head] Not really. Want to run it by me again?

Huh. [Reaching for the coffee cup, Jude took it between the heels of his hands and took another long drink.] Alright, basically I'm just wanting to illustrate the point... [As he recounted his thoughts to Holly he watched as her own handwriting began to supplement his on the page. Hers was clean and neat, legible without her even having to try. Jude continued to talk for nearly five minutes before pausing to look in earnest at what she had gotten down of the notes.]

Okay. [He nodded his head and brought a fist to the center of his chest, tapping his knuckles just under his throat and trying to clear out some mucous.]

[It was somewhat elegant scripting but it was very legible. She was also quick, following easily with his words. When he was done and she watched as he hit his chest, setting the paper and pen down she nudged his hand out of the way, giving a rather rough rubbing to the area to help.] I'm going to make you an appointment, I think it's time you get this looked at again.

[While Holly rubbed the center of his chest, Jude hiked his fist up and under his ribcage. Between the two of them, their combined efforts made him choke, and when he did so he started to cough. Hacking up a significant amount of mucous, he made a face and swallowed it back down.]

This winter is going to be hell, I can feel it already. I just need to rest, Holly. That's it. No appointments.

[Her brow knit together and she shook her head.] As your caregiver, I have to do this at my discretion Jude. [she smiled a little and ran her hand down his cheek] You're just going to have to be pissed at me.

[He was pissed, and he knew he was just going to continue to feel upset if Holly felt like it was her right to tell him what to do. But Jude closed his eyes when her fingers brushed over his stubbled jaw. He exhaled a little slower and for one striking moment, almost looked calm. Then his eyes opened and he lifted a fist, setting his knuckles against the back of Holly's hand.]

You're impossible.

[She wouldn't step in if she felt he WOULD get better but he even said himself he was getting worse. She kept her hand there and leaned in a little, winking.] I know I am, it's why we get along so well.