crypt | meme | #001 -- hardest words to say ( and i'd do anything to make you stay )

meme | #001 -- hardest words to say ( and i'd do anything to make you stay )

HARDEST THING TO SAY MEME

Sometimes the hardest things to say are also the most important. It doesn't matter how much it scares you to do so, it's finally time to be honest.

- post as your character.
- others go to RNG and roll numbers 1-22 then respond setting up a scenario.
- respond and have fun!

01. I DON'T LOVE YOU ANYMORE Unfortunately, you can't keep lying to your partner/friend/family anymore. You just don't feel the same for them anymore.
02. I WOULD KILL YOU The person who means so much to you has done something completely unforgivable and now it's time to make sure they know where they stand. You would kill them if you ever got the chance.
03. I LOVE YOU, BUT... A bittersweet love confession. You know you love this person more than anything, but you're not sure you can give them what they need.
04. I DON'T TRUST YOU No matter how you feel about this person, you really can't trust them anymore.
05. SACRIFICE You're going to sacrifice yourself, for the person you're talking with or for the good of all humanity. You want them to know the reasons and that there's no stopping you.
06. TROUBLE You're in trouble and you might not make it through. You need to let at least one person know how you feel before it's too late though.
07. CRIME CONFESSION You did something you weren't proud of and now it's time to admit it.
08. DEMONS We've all got our demons and we've all got our own personal nightmares we have to face, but this time? You can't hold it all back.
09. I'M PREGNANT... Now's not the best time for it maybe or maybe you're just nervous how your partner will react, but they need to hear it.
10. BETRAYAL You've betrayed this person and you have to tell them the truth, no more running from it
11. CHEATED You've been unfaithful and it's time to tell your lover.
12. BROKEN That's it. You've had it. You are entirely broken and tired of everything.
13. AFRAID Something has you deathly afraid and you need to talk about it.
14. HELP ME You need someone to help you, bad. You can't do it alone anymore, you've tried.
15. I'M SORRY You said something or did something horrible and now it's time to ask for forgiveness.
16. YOU WERE A MISTAKE Sorry, but whoever you're talking to was the biggest mistake of your life or maybe it was just something you did together.
17. NOT WHO I SAY I AM You're so far from who they think you are, you need to finally tell the truth.
18. LET'S RUN AWAY You want to just get out, leave everything behind and be with this one person for the rest of your life.
19. ASHAMED Either you're ashamed of something they have done or something you did, either way you need to bring it up.
20. CAN'T REMEMBER The person standing in front of you looks so happy to see you, so relieved, but how do you tell them you can't remember a thing about them?
21. HOW COULD YOU You don't understand how they could treat you like they have, do what they have done when you've done nothing but be good to them.
22. YOUR CHOICE Either choose an option from above, mix and match, or make up your own idea.

yep. totally stolen from memebells.
frolic with your subject lines and be free!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"That's true," she nodded when he said it didn't take much to get hired as an orderly or something. She could put in a good word for him and after all her father had done for that hospital, they'd listen. Absolutely. "It wouldn't be an imposition, I just don't think he'd find it proper... Us living under the same roof and not..." Married. She couldn't say the word. But she nodded. "My uncle's been looking for help and I know he has a soft spot for veterans. He'd say yes in an instant if I asked him." Because she was the darling of the family, let's be honest. The men of the Roberts variety had a hard time saying no to her.

She smiled at him, at his question with confidence. "Yes. I know it can." Because she wanted it to and she was determined to make it happen. She felt more hope in that moment than she had in a long while. "I'll do anything for you, to make you feel better."

Edited 2012-05-05 18:24 (UTC)

With her putting in a good word for him, he was sure to get the job, and maybe it would help, somehow - maybe he could help, because he knew what it was like to be laid up in a hospital and there were still plenty of men there. He didn't know if it would help with his memory, but it would help him move on in one way or anything, and so he nodded gratefully. Though when Summer said her father probably wouldn't find it proper, his smile flickered a little and he nodded again.] Well, things are... complicated, either way. So maybe it's best if we're not under the same roof, right?" If things came to that, down the road... they'd come to it. And he could tell, even without her saying so, that it was something she wanted. So that was starting to make it something he wanted to give her, even without knowing really why. "Well, I am a veteran," he pointed out - which of course she knew - when she said her uncle was more likely to hire him because of it. "And we ought to help each other. I'd be grateful if you could give me his number. I don't mind calling him, myself." He felt grateful that Summer was offering to do this all for him, but how could he let her? He was supposed to be getting his life back, or at least getting a life back, and he wasn't afraid to ask around for help to do it, when he knew where to ask.

Though really, what mattered in this moment was how much happier Summer looked - it set him at ease more than he realized, to see her smiling more than the opposite. Of course, when she said she'd do anything... he found his hand touching her face before he even realized it was happening, but even though his heart was racing and he wasn't sure if she'd pull away, he left it there when he said, "I don't know what I did, to have someone like you looking out for me, Summer Roberts. I must have been a saint."

She saw the way his smile faltered when she mentioned the propriety of the situation, she wondered if that hurt his feelings or made him feel too much pressure and decided not to bring it up again. "Yeah, I guess so," she said softly as she moved to check the potatoes, it wasn't an escape tactic, she honestly needed to check them. Once she was sure they were boiling correctly, she turned back to him, smiling as he pointed out that he was, in fact, a veteran. "I'll write it down for you before you leave." She wasn't offended that he wanted to do things on his own, Leckie had always been independent like that and she didn't mind him feeling the need to set his own life to rights. She wanted to give him help however he wanted to take it.

But then he was touching her face, making her eyes flutter a little at the touch she craved so much. She smiled at his words, a tender, touched smile. "You were just... you. And you still are." And she still loved him so much it made her soul ache. "Not a saint. You were kind of a trouble maker, actually." Her smile widened a little before speaking. "I'll tell you anything you want to know. I'll help you however I can. I promise."

It hadn't made him feel pressured in the way she thought, really - more in the way that he wanted to be whoever he'd been, for himself and for her. He watched her go to check on the potatoes, but it was with a small, grateful smile that it seemed to be simply because they needed checking, and not because she wanted to get away from him. "Thank you," he said earnestly, when she said she'd be sure to give him her uncle's information before he left. He had no problem with getting help, but he did want to have a hand in things, he didn't want her to do all the work.

"Well... I admit that's a little easier to live up to," he admitted with a soft laugh, thinking she was absolutely gorgeous when she smiled. After all, troublemaking was easier than sainthood, and if she'd liked him for him... it was hard to give her that when he still didn't know much about who he was, but he was trying at the least to be genuine and hoped that would be a good start. His hand slid down to touch her arm instead as he genuinely gave her offer some consideration. "Honestly... I want to hear about you. I mean, I know I should already know it, but... " He shrugged a little helplessly. It was a little overwhelming to hear all these things about a life he couldn't remember. He sort of wanted to hear about someone else for a while, and she seemed like a very, very good place to start. "I mean, if you felt like telling me about it."

She wanted to tell him that he didn't need to thank her but she had a feeling that he did, that he wanted to thank her so she let him, offering him a smile in return before he moved on to comment on what she said next. "You weren't the really bad kind of rebel, just a trouble maker." Of course as his hand slid down her arm, she almost trembled with how perfect it felt, how much she just wanted more of it. "About me?" She realized that it was true, he didn't know anything about her anymore. And he had no letters to learn from. She glanced at him when he said he should already know, shaking her head. "But you don't. It's okay, I mean... I don't mind. I just don't know where to start."

What was important to this Robert Leckie? How did she begin sharing a life she'd already been sharing with him. "I'm twenty one years old." An old maid by some people's standards. "I've lived in this house my whole life. My father is a surgeon, he does reconstructive surgery so lately he's been traveling a lot, the government pays him to help soldiers." She moved to stir the potatoes, unable to say the next part without sound a little shaky. "My mother died when I was eleven giving birth to a boy. He didn't survive either." She chewed on her lip for a moment before glancing back at him. "I've been working at the hospital because I thought that being around the soliders and cheering them up would somehow help me miss you less. And you seemed to really appreciate the fact that I did that. So it only made me want to stick with it."

"Well, I guess it's up to someone to keep things interesting," he chuckled softly, though he was admittedly glad to hear he'd been involved in more good-natured trouble than outright rebellion. But she was right - he had no way to learn about her other than to ask, and he thought that maybe talking about herself might be easier for her. Besides, it was something he genuinely wanted to hear. So when she said she didn't know where to start, he shook his head a bit. "Anywhere is fine. Just... talk." It didn't matter what was important to him, he just wanted to know what was important to her, how she'd gotten here, what had brought them together. His hand fell away as he listened intently to what she said, nodding a bit here or there. If her father was a surgeon, that explained why she'd been drawn to hospital work. And maybe he should be surprised she hadn't been snatched up and married already, but if he'd been gone for four years and she'd been waiting for him... the thought broke his heart, because the man who had come back was not the man she'd wanted, and he knew it. It had been clear on her face the first instant she'd realized he didn't even remember her name.

He was sad to hear that her mother was gone, though - her mother and her brother, that had to have been hard, he couldn't even imagine. "I'm sorry," he murmured; it felt hollow, helpless, but he couldn't not say it. Still, he smiled a little more when she said she'd stuck with hospital work. "I'll bet you're more than a sight for sore eyes. I hope it helped you... and I'm glad you like it." It said a lot about her, the kind of work she wanted to do, whether he'd appreciated it or not. Because he had a feeling that she would have done it either way, she seemed like that sort of a person. "I can tell you're very giving - I just showed up on your doorstep and you're making me dinner," he pointed out, nodding toward the boiling potatoes. "I'm glad you're doing what you're doing - you seem like someone who'd be perfect for the job."

Of course, speaking of giving - "Look, let me help get things ready, I feel bad just standing here. I'm sure I can mash potatoes if you show me how." They looked to be about done boiling and she'd have to keep an eye on the pot roast. "Or let me pour you something to drink." He just wanted to help out, wanted to give something back to her, because she was giving him so much.

Edited 2012-05-05 20:22 (UTC)

There had been other marriage offers. Some from the boys in the hospitals, half-joking, half-serious in their loneliness. And even a boy from the down the street had asked her out on dates, dates she didn't go on, only to come to her father and ask for her hand. Her father had refused it because he knew well enough that Summer's heart was set on someone else. That was part of the tragedy of it. She'd been waiting so long for him to come home to her, for their lives to begin because while he was at war, her life had stood still, she'd made sure it. Now, she didn't know what was to come of it. But she didn't regret waiting for him because it was the right thing to do, because she loved him.

It was a bitter pill to swallow, hearing him say he was sorry for the death of her mother, her brother, something he had done when they were kids, out of obligation. It was something she'd lived with for many years now, the sting had lessened but never gone away. She'd said so in her letters to him, that sometimes the loss of her mother haunted her and losing him would be her undoing. So now her ground is shaky because he was alive but lost.

As he spoke of her work at the hospital, she smiled. "Yeah, you military boys can be pretty randy sometimes." It wasn't anything she couldn't handle and she never felt unsafe or uncomfortable. The occasional cat call was about as offense behavior as she experienced. "But they knew I was taken." Her mouth twisted a little at that, it was a bit of a smile but not quite. "It's not something I want to do forever but I wanted to do my part for the effort, you know?" She wanted to do it until he came home, then maybe a little longer until they could get married, start a family. Maybe it was a simple dream but it was hers. "Thank you for thinking so."

When he offered to help, she just smiled and shook her head. "I'm okay, honestly. I don't mind it. But if you're thirsty, my father has a bar in the study you're welcome to. Or we have some wine, if you'd like some of that." She moved to get a cloth before pulling the potatoes off the boiler to drain.

The war had put virtually everyone's lives on hold, he'd certainly picked up on - and remembered - that much. Some people had rushed into marriage only to be separated, and he could imagine that had been something he and Summer hadn't been ready for. Selfishly, he was glad for it now, because having her husband come back from war with no memory of their time together would have been worse than even this, no matter how deep feelings ran. But the fact that she'd waited for him, that she had still been waiting for him after six months of no letters, hadn't failed to make an impression on him - a deep one that had formed a connection and there was no way he could leave her, give up on this now. If he knew anything, it was that she was worth keeping, worth trying to remember for, worth giving another chance. Because she was doing the same for him, and he could only imagine how lucky he was to have her - especially when he was as good as dead and this might very well be worse, standing here in her kitchen unable to give her what she wanted. Again he wondered if things wouldn't have been better that way, for her, but he couldn't change them. He could only move forward and take this second chance at life.

"Now that I do remember," he finally chuckled, at her description of military boys - he knew it was accurate, could only imagine the reaction she got walking through those hospital halls. But she seemed more amused than offended, though when her mouth twisted so did hers, when she said she was taken. He wanted to say something more, something about how he wanted to be that man, but it still felt like a lie, like he was an impostor and the real Robert Leckie would come pushing through the front door demanding his girl back. "Well, I'm sure they appreciated it just as much as I must have, and I'm glad you did it." Maybe it was something she had needed, something those soldiers had needed too.

Of course, when she said she really didn't need help he wouldn't push, though he had to admit, "I don't even know if I can hold my liquor - better safe than sorry, I suppose." She'd mentioned coffee, so that would be fine for him. "I'm fine for now, I just wanted to help if you needed it. I'm sure it's been a long day for you, especially if you weren't feeling up to much. Though sometimes the more you lie around, the harder it is to get up again." His way of saying that he understood just how low you could slump, how he understood that sometimes you just had to make yourself get up and do things and if she really wanted to do them, he'd let her. "I admit, my mom was sure ready to have me take up my chores again, if nothing else," he said, trying for a little bit of humor again.

As hard as it was, having him look at her like she was almost a stranger, it would've been worse to lose him completely. That would've broken her. No, she would never wish for the opposite, not ever. Not even if he never remembers her or anything about their lives, their blossoming love, anything. He was alive and relatively well, she could not be more thankful for that. She'd do all she could to help him however she could.

"I'm glad I did it too," she remarked because being a comfort to those who needed it, well sometimes she imagined that he was one of those boys she was comforting. Or she hoped that some nurse out there would be as kind to him when he needed it, if he ever came home. Perhaps it was also good practice just in case he'd need some nursing when he came home. Either way, she was glad to do her bit, just like he had done his. "And I'm sure the boys who wanted me to marry them appreciated it too," she laughed softly before tipping the pot to drain the water, carefully.

"There's sweet sun tea on the window sill over there if you'd like that. It should be done by now. I started it a few days ago." Actually right before she left for the store and saw him. "And there's ice in the icebox if you'd like it chilled." She pulled the pot back before moving to get the milk and butter from the fridge, checking the roast on the way. "I don't mind. It's nice to have something to do." And especially for him. But still, her father hadn't wanted her to go into the hospital. And he preferred her to stay around the house when he was away, he took the car after all. "I'm sure she does. Your brother and sisters aren't there anymore and they need someone young and spry to get the job done."

He was, admittedly, glad to be alive and not the opposite, because he'd seen far too much death. He was ready to leave it all behind, even if things were strange here, so quiet and peaceful, the peace almost jarring because he could only remember the lack of it. He hadn't slept well the past two nights, every little creak or sigh of the house waking him, dreams fitful and dark when he had them. They were full of images he couldn't quite bring into focus, sounds he couldn't quite hear, and it had been that way since he'd gotten hit. He'd woken almost every morning feeling anything but rested, at least mentally, but still, he'd rather this than death. Death sounded soothing, and he knew there were men who'd wished for it, but all he could think about was life - bright and real and loud. He'd held onto it with everything he had, and lost most of that in the process. Still, he was glad he hadn't come back without a leg, or a hand, or something like that - he was whole and maybe not completely well, but there was still hope.

Of course, when Summer mentioned marriage proposals he laughed quietly, too, smiling. "Oh, I'll bet you got ten a day. I might have been guilty of it, myself, if I'd been in your care." He didn't mean it lightly, that marrying her wasn't a big deal, but rather that she was so kind, so beautiful, how could any man not see her as a ray of hope he wanted to illuminate the rest of his life? "I hope it wasn't too bothersome to you," he added, watching her work - and perking up at the idea of tea, following her gaze to the windowsill and seeing the bottle. "Actually... that sounds really nice. Would you like some?" He moved to the cabinets, starting to search for glasses, pulling down two before he'd really heard her answer (because he hoped she'd say yes). And he finally decided to at least stop offering to do everything else, she sounded like she really did enjoy having something to do, so he resigned himself to simply getting the ice and the tea and moving to stack the letters neatly on the table where they couldn't get spilled on or ruined by their meal. "It's true, I've had to get about ten things down from cabinets since the other day, and I've carried about fifty boxes of junk out of my room to make space. I don't mind having things to do either, really... idle hands are supposed to be bad, right? I remember something about that, I think." Some kind of saying? Maybe. "Either way, it is nice to feel useful."

"I thought it was sweet," she said with a faint smile, cheeks flushing. "Some of them I felt bad turning them down, they seemed so lonely." And some were handsome and kind, promised her the world. But she already had that with Leckie. And even now, she doesn't regret turning them down. "I think I was just the first girl they saw that actually talked to them. The nurses over there had to be cold for their own sake. But here, I was allowed to take care of them so they appreciated it." And one or two of them had fallen in love with her for it.

"Sure, I'd like that." She said as she moved to pour the milk into the potatoes then added a good amount of butter before she started to mash them with a fork. Of course, she laughed when he spoke of all the things he had to do. "Idle hands are the devil's workshop. And it sounds like they were really keeping you busy. But I guess I'd need help reaching things myself and I'd use you if you were around." She kept on mashing before glancing at the oven. "Um, if you could, take the roast out? Don't forget to use the rags so you don't burn your hands or anything."

He smiled, thinking she was even prettied when she blushed, though then he caught the tail end of what she was saying (okay, he'd been staring, that was rude) and nodded. "Well, that's probably right. What I do remember is not a lot of women, and those nurses were pretty distant. I didn't blame 'em, of course, but yeah, coming home and seeing a warm smile on a pretty girl like you? I'll bet a few of them fell head over heels."

He was glad to hear she wanted some tea, pouring them both a glass before ducking his head and nodding a little. "I guess so... " He was about to joke that maybe it was why any mother had a son, but - suddenly that seemed in poor taste. So instead, he went with, "I'm just a human giraffe, maybe I should market myself to the hospital that way, you think?" Of course, when she said he could pull out the roast, he nodded, searching out the towels to wrap around his hands and pulling open the oven door, nearly starting to drool simply at the aroma that wafted out before he could even reach in. "Oh... this smells so good." He moved to set the hot pan on the stovetop and close the oven, standing over it and trying not to let his excitement be too obvious. His mother had cooked him a good meal the first night he was back, and he'd acted the same way. Fresh meat just smelled so good - and it brought back memories, somehow, though they were still dim and faint. Memories of family dinners, of nights out... nothing concrete, nothing clear, but he realized after a minute that he'd been staring with his eyes unfocused and he covered it by asking, "Where do you keep the plates?" He could get those down, too - and pull out some silverware if she told him where to go. It was probably rude to tear her kitchen apart looking for them, after all.

Edited 2012-05-05 22:10 (UTC)

She only blushed more at his words, at how he said her smile was warm and she was pretty. And at this point, she was distracted from her mashing as she tried to not let those compliments go to heart too much. But they did and those potatoes were mashed in no time. "Yeah, maybe a few."

"Well, you're taller than me that's for sure," she laughed some, because everyone was taller than her and her petite frame. "I think you just being willing to help would be a good marketing tool. Plus telling them you know me." She bragged jokingly, moving to put the potatoes into a serving bowl, smiling as she did so. "Oh, they're over there." She pointed with the spoon before looking towards him with a bit of a smile. "And the silverware is in the drawer beneath that." She didn't mind him setting up the table if he wanted. She was going to cut the roast for them both and she'd serve it, that way they'd both have worked on putting this dinner together.

He couldn't help but smile - and he was definitely pleased to see her doing the same, not wanting to embarrass her of course but she deserved a compliment or two, at the least. And she might be small, but she was pretty and her frame fit her, even if she might need some help getting a few things down - which was part of why he'd offered to go after the plates in the first place. It wouldn't do to have her reaching for things he could easily get down and make her life that much easier.

He liked the way she laughed and bragged when she said all he had to do was tell them he knew her, down at the hospital, and he'd surely get a job. "I'll be sure to drop your name at least a hundred times, then," he grinned as he followed her indication and found both plates and silverware, moving to set them out on the table along with the drinks while she got to work on the roast. When he was done, he moved to get the serving bowl with the mashed potatoes and bring it over to the table, figuring she could bring the roast and they'd be ready to go. "Thank you again for dinner," he said earnestly, waiting to sit down until she'd come over and done it first. "I hope it helps you feel better, too."

"Good, name dropping can be very helpful," she remarked as she started cutting the roast into slices. Once he had the food set out on the table, she moved to bring the roast over since he already got the mashed potatoes there. She served out a slice for herself before glancing at him-- "Sit. And tell me how many slices you want. We should finish it off so you can have as much as you want." And he could always have second helpings if he wanted. She went ahead and started putting at least two slices on there and once he told her to stop, she'd move to serve out the mashed potatoes.

Once that was done, she'll move to sit down across from him with a smile. "It's the first time I've ever gotten to make you dinner. Or anything for that matter. Besides a letter." And for some reason, that felt really special to her.

"I'll bet it can," he agreed, watching eagerly as she started to cut that roast, breathing deep to get as much of the aroma into his nose as he could. She insisted that he sit, so after a second or two more he did - he supposed he was a guest, after all, and he'd better let her be a hostess. "Two or three is fine for now," he said - oh, yes, he'd definitely want seconds, but too much more than that to start and he'd just seem rude. The food wasn't going anywhere, and neither was either of them.

She got everything served out quickly and moved to sit across from him; he still waited for her to get started, though she said - for his benefit, he was sure - that it was the first time she'd ever made him dinner. "Well... I hope it's not the last," he said honestly, watching her from across the table. "Not only does it look like the best meal I've seen in a long time, but the company just can't be beat. Go ahead, you make sure to eat plenty, too."

She moved to sit after everything was served up and ready to go. She looked proudly over the meal, feeling accomplished and well, feeling good having finally had the chance to eat dinner with him after years. It wasn't the way she pictured it, no but it was more than enough to make her happy. And when he said he hoped it wasn't the last, she flushed some because it gave her hope and it flattered her, like his words after. "Thank you, Leckie."

She pulled her napkin into her lap before moving to take a bite, knowing that he was waiting for her to start because he was not without manners. "Dig in." She puts the forkful of mashed potatoes in her mouth and has to smile because they taste perfect.

She should certainly look proudly over her work, because he was sure it was going to be amazing. Though once again he had to concede that she looked even better with that modest flush on her cheeks. He made himself quite happy watching that as he patiently waited his turn, but as soon as Summer had started in on her food and told him to do the same - well, he didn't need to be told twice. He started with the meat, picking up the knife and cutting it even though he wanted to just shove the whole piece into his mouth, it smelled so good. And as the first bite-sized piece touched his tongue, he hummed happily, eyes falling shut for a moment as he savored it. His mother had made stew, but he hadn't had pot roast in... far too long. "Oh, it tastes even better than it smells," he said, eyes opening so he could see to cut the next bite and keep going. Of course, about five bites in he realized he was inhaling it and tried to slow down, chewing and swallowing before he asked, "Have you always been so good at cooking?" It seemed a nice, safe thing to ask, although he knew that he should already know the answer; still, he tried to smile, because he really was curious. He didn't know about her hobbies, what she liked to do or what she was good at. Not anymore - not yet.

She watched his reaction from across the table and felt a pleasant warmth settle in her stomach when he seemed to like it. Her smile widened at the sight of it, at the sight of him almost inhaled it before realizing he was doing so. "I'm glad you like it." But of course, she laughed at his question, shaking her head. "I used to be awful. Actually, I was bad before you left and learned." She wanted to be good enough by the time he got back.

"I'm still teaching myself things."

He glanced up sheepishly after he realized he wasn't being very polite, but she seemed amused, nothing worse, so he relaxed a bit - but still made an effort to eat a little slower. "I do - I really like it," he assured her, tilting his head curiously when she laughed in response to his question, though the why became clear a moment later. "Ah - well, I suppose a couple of years and a person can master anything, right? Because I'd say you have definitely mastered this. What's your favorite thing to cook, now?" Because he definitely planned to see if she'd make it for him, too, just to see that smile on her face again - though he bet it would be excellent, to boot.

She didn't think it un-polite. In fact, it was a compliment that he was eating her food so quickly, it meant his words are true, that he loves the food she made. "Yeah, it was tricky. I burned some dishes and burned my hands a few times." But at his question, she was quiet for a moment. "I like making mashing potatoes. But I also like making spaghetti. I just learned it."

He nodded, trying not to smile at the idea of dishes coming out of the oven a little overdone - and of course burned hands weren't funny, but he imagined they did come with the territory. "Well, I can definitely vouch for your mashed potatoes. And I've never had real spaghetti... at least, I don't think so," he said, realizing as he glanced down at his plate, "I guess it's really hard to say what I have and haven't done... but I certainly don't remember having spaghetti, so I'd love to try some of yours, sometime." It was hard, living this life that was only half there, only memories other people had of him and memories he'd made that only went back a few years and were clearly full of holes. "I know I'll remember it this time," he tried to say enthusiastically, smiling up at her again. The doctors had said that even if his old memories never came back, he could still make new ones. He shouldn't forget those - and that was a relief, because to live a life that you were never sure you remembered at all... that sounded like torture.

"I don't know if you have either but I can always fix that." Somehow, it got easier to say things like that. He didn't have his memories and she needed to accept that, she needed to help him make new ones if his old weren't going to return. Though she wouldn't lose that hope either no matter how hard it got. "I'll have to make you some time." She offered him a smile before taking a few bites of food, swallowing only to ask-- "Do you have any other things to ask? I don't mind answering while you eat."

"It sounds like a plan to me," he agreed - he didn't care if he'd had it before or not; in the end, he wanted to try Summer's spaghetti, if only to make her smile. Though if this pot roast was any indication, it was going to be excellent spaghetti. "You just let me know when it's convenient, and I'll bring something over to go with it - wine, maybe?" He certainly didn't want to show up empty-handed - he'd probably bring her some flowers, too. He probably should have done that, tonight, but this had been sort of an impromptu visit.

He considered her question, but really the thing that was first and foremost on his mind, despite the fact that he already planned to look into employment in the hospital, was, "What did I do at the Record? Do you know? Mom didn't tell me, and I admit I wasn't really in the mood to ask her. I probably cleared out a little faster than I meant to, this morning," he said sheepishly.

"No, no. You save your money. Just you being here is a good enough gift for the hostess," she said a little boldly but honestly. She didn't want him to spend any money on her when he didn't have a job, he should save it for himself. "Besides I'll have wine that I'll cook with and we can drink that. I can always put you to work if you feel like you owe me or something, which you shouldn't."

"You reported sports," she answered with a smile. "I have a few of your articles saved, if you'd like to see them after dinner." They were mostly boring to her but at the same time, they were his so she cherished them. "Mostly local stuff but you were really good. I mean, you made me care about sports, if that--" She was going to say 'if that tells you anything' but she realized he didn't know her well enough to know that it was a feat. "Well, it's a daunting challenge."

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