(no subject)

[acontrollist]

[Honestly? She feels vaguely like crying.]

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[acontrollist]

I know that. [She does. Knows he doesn't really worry about what's going on with her body unless it's some sort of weird new development (her first few rehearsals, she was always nauseous for a few hours after. That was weird.), bad, or...you know. Him. He's the first guy she's ever even heard of that isn't repulsed by sex during that time of the month. In fact, most of the apprehension that way is from Rachel, but she never hesitates to slip into the shower behind him.] I just didn't want you to worry. [Well there's that, her own guilt, and the fact that there really hasn't been much time for talking lately. Most days the past few weeks he's come home like he did today, they're awake long enough to make sure the bills are paid and everything's working and no one got shot and then they sleep. Or shove a few bites into their mouths beforehand. Or he hoists her against the wall or presses her into the couch or the floor or the bed and she's got just enough time to say Yes or No before he's sliding home because time is nearly as precious to them now as they are to each other.]

Noah. Please. [The last thing she wants is to be babied right now.] I just. I guess I was a little more...I don't know, I guess I was freaking out more than I thought. [She swallows hard as soon as she says it, hating the way the words sound between them. He's her best friend. He's her husband and no matter what's going on in their lives, freaking out just...it feels wrong.]