Work Text:
Zooble was the first to find the movie room.
"It's a fucking novelty," they say, head high over the kitchen table, peering over to the rest of them; hands crossed across, or at least that's what Pomni's doing herself. "We haven't found a good room in so long, let alone with semi-functional equipment."
Ragatha takes a long sip of her own tea, conjured in her cup. She's getting so much better at the task, Pomni had to admit—a long talk and a long train was enough. "That's great, Zooble!" She doesn't miss the lilt in her voice either, so much more enthusiastic than it had been days prior. The calm atmosphere of their own little nook helped more than the room knew it did; warm overhead lights, the quiet tuk tuks of the overhead fan adding life to a room in a stark contrast with the outside world.
Starting anew had never been an easy task, but the renewed determination from the rest of them had allowed them to hold on even when they were reaching the end of the rope. The struggle isn't over, nor the torment wiped out of their memory for good.
But solitary life now is strangely… dormant.
And Pomni kind of likes it.
"Does it have actual movies?" Gangle asks, sliding out under the pantry booth at the end of the mini-kitchen, notebook in one hand and burger in the other.
"A gamble with generated slop or actual substance, but it's a worthwhile one, right?" Pomni stares down at the chips in her own hand, munching down on flavorless nothing—she'd gotten the structure right but not quite the flavor. Finding this kitchen room had been helpful. Honing the skill was another arduous task entirely.
"Definitely," Zooble says, already making their way out the doorway, a sense of calm flickering across their eyes. "Who's up for movie night?"
Ragatha nods fervently, sucking down the last of her tea with a pep as she stands and a smile on her lips, real one, not painted. Gangle watches and follows the gesture, albeit near tripping on the side of the counter-top, juggling the sketchbook at her side.
"That sounds lovely." Kinger pipes up from the end of the kitchen, smearing jam on the surface on his sandwich—yes, front side up, not the crusts again. It's such a miracle what buckets can do.
"Alright, meet y'all in the room in ten?" Zooble turns out the door, and a strange feeling jolts Pomni from her own seat, the lingering feeling of something missing from the ensemble, and she realizes what it is before she could give it one more thought.
"What about Jax? Do w-we call him, or…?"
The room doesn't repulse the way Pomni was expecting it too, and it would have been foolish for them to do so anyway. They were over the he-who-must-not-be-named and the you-know-whos, a habit Pomni chided them into stopping because honestly, who would want to be censored just by being mentioned because the room might shatter if his name was said? Jax doesn't like it, he's explicitly said as much. So Pomni made it cease.
"Oh shit, sorry," Zooble says, walking back in, retracing those steps. "I—I wasn't intentionally excluding him, but," they click their tongue, a noise that exists with no appendage to back it up. "Would he really agree to come with if we asked?"
"He did ask for space." Ragatha slowly dips the cup into the sink, leaving it there with the rest of her confidence. "But would it be wrong to ask him now?" The rag-doll hadn't abandoned her constant worry for him, no matter how much it waned since his change of pace. Gangle keeps quiet in her own right, busying herself in her sketchbook and avoiding the topic like she'd asked for. There were some wounds that couldn't quite be mended. It's amazing that she's still so tolerant of his presence, Pomni thinks, though she has to thank Zooble on that, though the want to see a better man lied within her and her only.
Maybe not only Gangle, but Pomni too.
"We still don't know what he makes of us." Zooble looks down. "Or if he's sticking to his promise."
"Well, maybe it won't hurt to try?" Pomni suggests gently, dropping her bag of chips and sliding down her bar stool. This height is smaller, but she doesn't feel that way. A need presses itself into her chest and she clears her throat, sticking to the words. "I could go and ask him if it's okay. Or I could stick around if he chooses to be alone."
A brief lull of silence washes across the room before Ragatha speaks. "That's very kind of you, Pomni." Gangle nods. Zooble's head tips to the side, considering.
"Wait."
Her quiet leave is halted by Kinger's voice, deeper than it is before, something soft in those mismatched eyes of his.
"I think you're making a very considerate choice," he says, stepping forward underneath the amber light. "It's… good to keep our support on our hands, and let him know he's seen. It's what anybody would want now."
Ragatha's head tips to him in silent wonder.
"That being said, I think it would be in all of our best interests if we joined you." A smile crosses his eyes, beaming at Pomni. "All of us together. That way, we can all be there."
A bubbly, warm feeling lifts her heart, astounded. Kinger and Ragatha's eyes cross in a tender moment only they seem to understand.
"Yeah," the doll mumbles, loud enough to hear and soft enough to be tender, holding onto the connection for just a moment longer before it's back to Pomni's eyes. "I'd love to come too."
"Same here." Gangle smiles, a sweet one, before a glance with her friend, contemplating their choices.
"What the heck, sure." A playful air comes to them, joining Pomni's side as they step. "Let's go lovingly harass this guy."
The gratitude comes unbidden, and strength comes fast when she knows there's a band behind her when she turns. "Find the tape?"
"On it," Zooble checks, moving to the opposite side. "We know where we meet." A statement, not a question, or maybe a hybrid of the two. But it doesn't matter in the end, with a chorus of agreement following, all smiles out the doorway.
Pomni's hand hovers over the portrait on his door. She remembers now distant conversation of replacing the pictures on top, or perhaps something better—was it Jax's suggestion, or was it Zooble's? She doesn't get the answer in the end, but it no longer matters when the rest of them approaches next to the doorway.
Ragatha places herself next to her, hands fidgeting away at her seams. It doesn't feel awkward anymore; not this close proximity, it feels supportive now, something she feels stronger with nearby.
Pomni doesn't realize it when she speaks until a few seconds later.
"You're really trying for him."
She blinks up at her.
"I'm just trying to be a good friend."
The corner of Ragatha’s mouth twitches upwards.
"That's a lot more than any of us has managed to do."
Gangle approaches the two with Zooble in tow. Ragatha leans back, taking back the rest of her words, not before one last last whisper, "Thank you."
Pomni has a feeling she knows what she's being thanked for.
Zooble hands her the tape they found, and she holds it tight in her grip, a strange sort of protectiveness. It's when Kinger joins—minus bucket, where did it go?—that she finally reaches towards the door and knocks.
Once more for good measure.
Light shuffles emanate from underneath the gap in the door, and quiets. Shuffles again, like feet dragging through a heaping mess. Pomni doesn't recall exactly when her breath stuttered, and especially so when a soft click sounds with a creak.
The door opens quietly to a shadow, someone in the dark along with it. Jax—rubbing his eyes and waiting, a yawn snagging out his throat, still clutched onto the doorknob for support with his free hand.
He blinks before landing on Pomni, eyes scrunching up in confusion. She follows it with a warm smile; something so easy to do when he was around. It's only then does he notice the rest of the ensemble.
Gangle. Zooble. Ragatha and her soft wave. Kinger's bug eyes—all of it, he darts across, eyes diverging rapidly, nothing truly setting in until his eyes come back to Pomni and the tape in her hand.
"…what's all this?" His voice is tinged with sleep, dragged down and husky, but that doesn't hide the surprise. He latches onto the defensive, "What are you doing here?"
It's a moment of awkward silence before she realizes the others were waiting for her to speak. "Jax," she starts quietly, and she honestly forgets it's not an intimate moment. "We found an old theater room that actually works, and," she peers down at her tape, tracing over the colorful text on top, "we're going to have a night out… we were hoping you'd want to come along."
He blinks at her twice, squinting down at her as if he was trying to hunt for the lie. There is none. "Me? Come along?"
"I believe that's what she said," Zooble looks at him like one who look down at a petulant sibling. "So, you coming?"
His expression is painfully neutral, like he's schooling it.
Jax sighs before turning away and shutting his door halfway, face shrouded by shadow.
"I'll think about it."
A beat. And the door shuts again quietly.
"We tried. That's what Kinger wanted," Ragatha adds, looking forlornly at the chess piece without the bucket to bring him back, now replaced by lopsided 3D glasses from literal thin air.
"It's not a no." Pomni blinks. "That's better than anything."
"Do we head out?" Gangle looks to the tape in Pomni's hold, motioning to the doorway.
"Wait," Ragatha thinks for a long moment before turning to Zooble. "There's a projector in the theater, right?"
"Yeah. The one thing that works in there."
Her brow creases before she holds her head up. "I might have a crazy idea."
"So we ditched the original plan for this?" Zooble asks, lugging the spare projector in their clawed hands as they exit the threshold of what remains of the circus tent.
"Oh, yeah," Pomni adds, holding out her hand for aid, stepping out into the night. The sky remains speckled with stars, though the Moon was nowhere to be found. It hadn't been long before she had been terminated along with Caine. "Ragatha said she wouldn't set it up too far from the tent. It's honestly a better idea."
A figure in the distance raced toward them until she gleans her blue frock and bouncing locks. "Guys!" Ragatha calls, coming quickly to scoop the projector out of Zooble's hands. "I'll take care of this."
"Thanks." Zooble leans over to the distance, carefully watching Gangle make her way down a ladder. "Did you finish getting it all up?"
"Mhm!" Ragatha chirps, leading them onto the cinema setup; one that reminded her a lot of summer night movie gatherings—the age old projector, plastic chairs and the screen with its swaying tarp. "The chairs were easy to get, but the tarp was a little bit tricky. Took a couple of attempts, but Gangle got it all conjured up."
Kinger finishes propping the sheet up with his hands, reaching to the sky and back with a face full of pride.
"I'm honestly excited," Ragatha says, grinning for once. "I love outdoorsy movie nights like these! I was actually surprised you guys were so enthusiastic."
Gangle flops back onto her own chair, exhausted, watching quietly as Zooble worked around the projector to get it attached.
"Have you done this before?" Pomni asks, carefully pulling one of the chairs.
"Oh? Yeah, I have, I guess. My family always had something going on in the summers, but we had our projector, and we used it a lot when we could. One thing I looked forward to every night."
The light bounces out as it whirs up,Zooble letting go of the mechanics to sit down ungracefully onto the seat next to it. Pomni notes how she relaxes, like tension they've been waiting to ease; yet Pomni can't say the same, looking out into the distance of the tenet without realizing it until a voice comes.
"Are you looking for him?" Pomni startles, breaking out of her daze to meet Ragatha. "Did you tell him we'd meet outside for the show?"
"I did," she tells her, yet that doubt gnaws at her again, no trust in it. "I'd said it through his door, and I'm like, halfway sure he heard me."
"And he still hasn't come…" Ragatha looks longingly towards the atrium, sagging her shoulders. "I—would it be bad to say I wasn't so confident he'd come?" She stutters when Pomni looks—she didn't mean to look so accusingly, she really didn't, "I mean, not in the way that he isn't warming up to us, it's just—"
She sighs, long and hard, reaching for the head of her own chair.
"It just takes a while for that change to come, doesn't it?" And she's right, Pomni thinks, more than just that, the strain of so much conscious effort wearing on him.
It doesn't quite stop her from imagining him being here. A happier side of him, lighthearted poking good fun at Zooble whilst hogging all the popcorn and allowing them to steal; his lackadaisical walk across the moonlit grass when he screams her name—she hasn't seen him do any of these things, certainly not recently, but the imagery felt real in her head. Maybe she did know him enough for it.
Ragatha catches her wandering off and smiles, bringing her back. Right, movie, she can't forget, especially not after all this effort. Ignoring how it feels like she's leaving one eye on the ground with her constant turning, she pats a seat and sits, watching as the screen brightens with the old-timey, wind up countdown.
10
Pomni misses these kinds of things a lot, doesn't she? This feels more real-life adjacent than anything else.
9
She won't lie and say she doesn’t feel alien to how she's sitting so comfortably with people that's not her family or faces she can't remember.
8
But she's gotten something in the end, hasn't she? Friends she's gone far with, up and down mountains and valleys of chaos one day after the other, the example a lot more literal than you might think.
7
But it doesn't feel complete right now with that empty chair.
6
She should be looking at the movie, not the chair.
5
But something's nagging at her too much to ignore. Pomni's got a good knack of not being able to ignore something when it isn’t right.
4
A much simpler way of putting it would be the movie is just wrong with someone alone out there.
3
And maybe she wouldn't be able to sit tight enough without thinking about it entirely. Sure, she can just do the logical thing and stay here and try to shove that thought for the rest of the two hours and enjoy the show while it lasted.
2
…nah.
She knows herself far too well to know that just won't happen.
1—
She stands up fast enough that Zooble pauses the screen instantly. "Hey, what gives?" Just a frame before the one would vanish, too. Do movie countdowns even have a zero, or do they cut to black at the very end? A stupid question, and certainly not the one Ragatha is about to ask her either.
"Pomni? Is everything alright?"
"Yes!" She tries so her voice isn't so lilted it's hard to believe. "I just wanted to check on something, that's all."
"Something," Zooble's eyes narrow, "or someone?"
Pomni blinks.
"You should get better at excuses, you know."
She pinches the gap between her eyes. "Yeah… but don't worry about me." Damn. She isn't denying it either. "You guys can carry on."
"Won't you miss it, though?" Gangle asks worriedly.
"That's alright. I can just watch it later! On the big screen, full cinema experience, right? No problem." But that doesn't work and she knows she's not asking for something good. "I'm sorry, I… I didn't mean to not have a peace of mind for this."
"Hey," says Zooble, giving her a look that showed understanding. "We get it. You're worried about him more, that's fine. We can always have one of these tommorow with you."
"Yes." Ragatha nods. "What Zooble said."
They all share a look before the tension releases and Zooble gives her a laugh.
"Hey, if you manage to score an actual date, ditch us and have fun."
A blush blooms at the corner of her cheeks. "What do you mean—"
"Be careful out there," Ragatha adds, breaking their tease, smiling at her for reassurance. A good amount comes to her.
Feet pattering on the wet grass towards the tent, she moves.
She's back at his door again, unsurprisingly, yet this time she's much less confident about it.
It's been half an hour since the time they'd asked him to arrive and Pomni kind of guessed he'd be a no-show.
Would asking him twice be too pushy? Jax is the kind to prefer his space—not to mention his naps. She's never explicitly been in his room, but she does know it's more often dark than it is not.
She raps on his door softly, this time thrice, just in case he doesn't hear the first two.
He opens the door quickly enough Pomni doesn't stop herself from tumbling back.
"Oh." He didn't sound or look disappointed, rather a weird jumble of expression she can't make out. "It's you."
She takes him in, seemingly looking much better rested than before. "Yeah. I, uh, came to check in."
There it is again, that shocked expression, like the idea of it is too much for him. "You know I said I'd think about it."
"Mhm."
"That wasn't a guarantee. Definitely not a yes."
"And that's okay," she says, trying to get that point across. "Seriously. I just—"
"Just what?" His eyebrow arches.
"Just didn't want to leave you alone."
He pauses for a moment, breaking eye contact to scowl at the wall. Pomni feels the awkwardness simmer to the surface, dragging her feet across the floor. What exactly was the plan after she'd spoken? Nothing, because she hadn't planned anything in her head, jumping the gun as always.
"I'll just head… out then." She turns before she can make that tension known. "It's alright."
She'd taken about three steps away before Jax scoffs loud enough for her to hear.
"What's the dumb movie even about, anyway?"
Interest! He has interest. She turns around to face him again, trying to recall the details off the back of the tape. "It's starring us, apparently. Some play with surviving the wreckage of the Titanic and flying… car bombs?"
"Ha! Caine really created a whole movie we didn't star in?" Jax folds his hands, leaning on the doorway. "Think I'd remember an adventure like that."
"Zooble said they might just be NPCs. I mean, I wouldn't really know. They're watching the movie right now, actually."
He laughs quietly for a solid two seconds before it flips upside down. "Wait, aren't you supposed to be watching the thing then?"
'Uh… I guess?"
"Then what the heck are you doing here?"
"I thought I already told you—?" Pomni begins, but is then silenced by the look in Jax's eyes. Not a threat, no. Eyes wide and wretched and she really doesn't think it's meant to scare her. "I wanted to check on you, Jax. I meant it."
"So you ditched the rest of the losers to come find—I mean, all of that for this? Are you crazy?"
"It's really just a movie." Pomni shrugs. "I'll live." Some things are more important, she thinks, but she doesn't voice it out loud. "Besides, I can watch it later, by myself. We were planning to check out the actual theater, anyway." A beat. "You can go there whenever, too."
He gives her a long look. "Do you want to be all alone in there?"
Huh? Weird question. Why'd he ask? "I wouldn't mind it?" It comes out like doubt. Sure, she'd have preferred the group watch, but why would he…?
His expression shifts and he barks a laugh. "Well, what do you know, I changed my mind! I wouldn't miss seeing Ragatha get blown up on live TV for the world." His mood shift is swift, and it drops again. "You can come along if you want to," he adds quietly.
"Huh?"
"Oh my God!" He loses confidence. "I said, you can come along if you want to."
"Wasn't I the one inviting you—wait, who is inviting who now?"
"Are we seriously on different wavelengths right now."
"Yes! You're not making any sense!"
He purses his lips and drops all the tension in his body, finally going on a whisper. "I said it wouldn't be… such an inconvenience if you come with… me. You're deaf or—something."
Oh.
Oh. That's what this is. That's…
She smiles when he turns, and it comes easy again like it always does. "I'd like for you to watch the movie with me, Jax." And she's really happy saying it, wondering how that had lead to this, rejecting the others but not her… strangely. He'd mentioned more comfortable on his own. Was this a part of it?
He gets a grip on himself again, confirmation needed to escape the moment. "Is this a date? God, you're so straightforward, Pom!"
"That's not what I meant—"
So hours later, Pomni's walking side by side towards the theater. Somehow.
"So this movie's apparently starring us," Jax repeats, pushing the nondescript door open when she points towards it.
"It was selling to be a pretty tough movie." Pomni walks through the door he holds open. "Guaranteed to make you cry, somehow."
"With flying car bombs?"
"With flying car bombs. Wait, did you open the door for me?"
He promptly ignores that question. "Is that a line?"
Sure enough, it is, barely glitching wood-face NPCs dawdling in a line towards the ticket counter of the admittedly very small movie lobby. Unintelligible movie posters hung the walls save for the one that direction had their avatars in the most abstract way possible.
Pomni plants her feet down in the back of the line only for him to look at her incredulously. "What?"
"Are you seriously going to stand here and wait?"
"There's no harm in," oh God, "what are you doing?"
He swiftly moves in front to shove the NPC behind her to the side, then the next one, and the next. "They're Caine's," he says, grabbing her arm and pulling her to the front of the line. Sure enough, they fall into stiff positions, broken out of routine and no longer functioning out of code. No harm done. Mostly.
There's no one on the counter.
"So do we just get the tickets out the stand or something?"she asks, looking up. He gasps like he's solved something huge.
"Pomni," he says, looking her dead in the eye. "We don't need any goddamn tickets. We can literally walk to the cinema."
"Yeah… but I kind of want a snack."
He considers that for a moment, before grinning ear to ear. Without wasting a second he leaps over the table so he's the one standing behind the counter, head held in hands and leaning most unprofessionally.
"Good evening," he says, voice filled with obnoxious charm. "What can I get ya today, ma'am?"
She stifles a laugh, not minding the sudden play-along. "I want two tickets to The Amazing Digital Adventure, please."
"And I want your number."
"What?!" She's taken out, full on cackling, hunching over the counter. "What was that?"
"Hey, had some weird popcorn lady do that to me once," he laughs along, smiling—rather endearingly—watching her giggle. "Took me out. Worst pick-up line ever."
"Clearly," she says, getting herself again. Though, he seems to have mellowed out quickly, stopping his smile.
"I didn't actually want your number or anything." He coughs, stuttering. "Wisecrack."
"I don't even have a number here." She shakes her head, bringing attention to him looking through the popcorn buckets. "Two popcorn and two sodas, please?"
"Great," he drawls, in that monotonous tone. "That'll be two hundred dollars."
"Two hundred?" Pomni fakes a gasp, and tries to make her eyes go all bug eyed. Works better than expected, more control of her cartoon body, trying to play stern and mean. "That's plain robbery."
"Can't except free stuff in this economy, lady."
"Okay," she tries, "what about one soda, one popcorn?"
"Ah, cutting your costs. Still a hundo."
She pouts, hinging on her lower lip, clutching a hand to her chest in mock fashion. "That's so unfair…" She's overdoing it, and Jax's certainly cringing. Play along, don't look weird, play along how?
An idea forms and she leans over the counter the way he is; one leg over the other and elbow propped to fit her head. "Couldn't you comp it for me or something?" she asks, batting her eyelashes to blink up at him. "Please?"
He drops his hands to his sides.
"Uh, Jax?"
He's staring dead into his eyes like he hypnotized himself without telling her. A faint dust of pink rises to his cheeks.
"Did I say something wrong?"
He snaps back like from another realm, laughing to himself to a joke no one told, shoving the extra two snacks off the desk. "Fine, ya miser. 'Cause you're… pathetic, or whatever. Shortstuff." It isn't meant to be an insult and it doesn't hit, as he clutches the soda in an iron grip and launches himself over the stand, leaving her with the popcorn.
Another diversion and run off. Weird. "I'm not paid enough for this!" he adds, turning the corner towards the hallway and vanishing behind it.
"Hey! Wait up!" Pomni hauls the popcorn basket, juggling the snack in her arm to not spill any kernels, chasing after.
He's strutting away at a fairly quick speed, though it's hard work catching up with comparatively shorter legs to his lanky ones, whilst mindful of her snack.
Posters decorate the whole of the narrow halls, seeming to stretch for no less than a couple ten more feet with only two rooms in. All of them are for their own movie, and Jax takes a moment to appreciate the cut-outs of his own head.
"Ah," he sighs, "so much me."
Pomni stops, turning his way toward the poster to find herself, posed with unhappily, back turned to the camera with her face at an awkward angle.
"I don't know." She softly nudges at his arm, moving forward. "It caught my bad side. I don't like it."
He rolls his eyes, but it looks just a bit over for his tastes. "See, that's really funny, 'cause you look ugly on all sides."
"Hey, you're not so perfect either, mister."
"Please. I'm the epitome of photogenic." They find the door and what do you know it, he's holding out the door for her again, though he doesn't even hide the gentlemanly masquerading this time. She flashes him a smile, and he plays coy again, tailing her in the darkness.
The walk to the main room is long, stumbling through barely dim lights to find the rows of red seats amidst a darkened screen.
Pomni feels a quick and sudden weight drop on her back, nearly knocking her off balance, followed by an inaudible oomph just beside her neck.
A gloved hand finds her arm, just below her elbow. Her breath hitches. The contact is sudden but not strange. The weight that is Jax releases, yet the feel of the grip remains.
"Sorry," he mutters. "Tripped."
Oh. He apologized.
The cinema looks large from the corner, and Pomni tries to piece together where to sit before he motions her along himself. "C'mon, the middle rows always the best."
Can't go wrong with the expert. Pomni hadn't been too much of a movie junkie in the real world, but it's easy to assume he certainly was. The climb to the row is tricky, nearly tumbling over the stairs unseen, but she gets there in the end. She feels some popcorn bounce of her shoe, dropping from the tilted basket. Sorry, kernels. No point saving them now.
Jax finds the row and shoves inward, sipping the soda as he moves. He takes the perfect middle, five on the left and five on the right, and Pomni sits close to his right. Awh, she wanted the perfect middle.
The screen flickers, a commercial blinking out of view, the movie near starting. Perfect time to come. Pomni gets comfortable, why not, plopping the bucket on her lap and tossing some in her mouth.
Her gaze wanders to Jax, locked on the changing screen but clearly not paying much attention. He looks… so much more relaxed than he was before. Like he was trying not to be? She can't tell, but the lines under his eyes have faded even in the dark.
She doesn't even notice when he returns her stare and smirks. "Enjoying the view?"
"You wish," she laughs, picking up another piece of popcorn. "You look relaxed."
"I'm not relaxed, I'm bored." He takes a long sip of his drink.
"The movie hasn't even started yet."
"I know," he says. "I'm going in with low expectations, duh. Can't get disappointed if you don't expect anything at all."
That might work well for the movie, but—
He opens his mouth again but the colors of the scene switch, and it's motor instinct that has her moving a finger towards his lips.
"Shush. It's starting."
He blinks. She realizes exactly what she's doing and backs, trying to hold on to her last shred of confidence.
Just look at the movie instead.
The action kicks off after the very first scene and what Pomni can recall next is a muddle of colors she couldn't fully put together. The versions of them acts nothing like themselves, as expected; sounds awfully harsh and exaggerated, their clone selves, talking as if they were reading off some dollar store script. It's obvious just how much influence Caine had over this production before passing, with the constant bombs over Zooble and thrown obscenities left and right. She loses interest pretty quickly.
Instead, she somehow wanders back to Jax, lazily sprawled over his seat with eyes barely cast on the screen. He didn't look particularly cheerful, but it isn't grouchy, yet still tinged with some kind of tension in the atmosphere she can't place.
"That's so out of character," Jax complains, beginning to find those glaring holes. "Gangle would never say forget about anime. Like, are we talking about the same person?"
He motions to the bucket in her lap.
Now, like a normal person, she should be handing him the bucket.
Instead the less rational part of her brain picks up one singular piece of popcorn and hovers it directly over his mouth.
Okay, she's looking at this with just as much confusion he is.
Abort, stupid idea.
He doesn't say that. Without any warning, he leans quick enough to snarf the kernel straight out of her hands, a moment of warmth that leaves as soon as he comes.
Pomni questions it but he doesn't? That's new. That's really new. She experiments again; one kernel between her fingers, pointed at his jaw. He sinks down, biting into it, the incoming contact so weirdly exhilarating she's sucking down that feeling deep in her gut. No, bad feeling. Feeling that she shouldn't be happening. Why is she doing this?
It's the fifth kernel when he leans close and doesn't take it, screen with a flashbang of colors he tilts her face away from. "Wow, feeding me by hand before marriage? Very naughty, Pomni."
She's giggling now, angling her head sideways. "Hey, I have no idea what I'm doing. It's working, right?"
She swears she sees him swallowing hard, pausing. "…I guess," he says, voice weirdly breathy, looking away in the dark before she can see.
The screen flickers with chaos, clone-Gangle and clone-Zooble wrapped in the most uncomfortable hug imaginable as the Titanic sinks underneath them.
Okay, maybe the movie got that halfway accurate. Not the Titanic part.
"Was that supposed to make me cry?" Jax stares at the screen, unimpressed. "This sucks."
"Yeesh, yeah," Pomni says, giving him a weary smile. "I've seen better movies." He sinks into his seat.
"Wait," she asks worriedly, "do you regret this?"
"Eh." A long beat, one where his shoulders slump and he shrugs. "I'd rather be here."
That's actually kind of reassuring.
Pomni takes a few more mouthfuls of popcorn—save some pieces for Jax—before greedily eying the soda in his hand.
She catches the top of the cup, slowly tilting it in her direction. He notices but shows none. She moves downward to take a sip.
"Hey!" She nearly jumps, and he doesn't yank the cup back until after she's done with it. "Popcorn feeding is one thing. Now we're sharing straws?"
Oh, she hadn't even thought of that implication. It was motor instinct, she should have just insisted on another cup—
"God," he laughs, but it comes out strained. "If you want this to be a date so bad just tell me."
"You know," Pomni turns to him, the corner of her mouth twitching downwards. "With all your pushing, I'm beginning to think you're the one considering this a date."
That was the wrong thing to say.
"Jax?" His eyes puff out wide, mouth small, physically buffering for the umpteenth time this movie trip.
"Nothing! Look at the movie, c'mon. You're missing all the action."
She is missing nothing. "Do we even know what's going on anymore?"
"Yes or no, choose your favorite."
She laughs a quiet laugh to herself, squinting at the screen. "Looks like your soul's forever trapped in that Titanic, look." Clone-Jax lay crumpled in the wreckage in such a twisted position Pomni can't take it seriously.
"This movie is awful," Jax says, finishing the last of his soda, chucking it into the back row. "I'd never cry on camera."
"Really?"
"Please, crying is stupid," he leans on the back of his chair all the way back. "I'd never—"
She feels it before she hears it.
"Po—"
The springs of Jax's seat break with a sickening snap. He's launched backward, caught in a half-yelp; tumbling back towards the back row, legs flying in the air.
"Jax!" She drops the popcorn bucket, spinning a one-eighty, hunting for him in the dark. "The chair—"
"Snapped," he huffs, and Pomni sits up on her knees, grabbing the side of his chair to peer down directly over him. He's splayed out against the broken chair, no noticeable injures—a given, they can't get hurt, but—he doesn't seem fazed, ears flopped sideways in two directions, staying on the ground seemingly not because he can't get up but just because he won't. "Stupid chair's made out 'f straw or somethin'."
"Well," he makes her position comfortable, relaxing when he's proven okay, "guess this is just karma from the movie." Still running in the background, by the way. "It didn't like being insulted."
"Please, I couldn't care less about the movie," he scoffs, punctuating it with a hand thrown nowhere.
"Oh yeah?" she challenges. "They why'd you come?"
There looks like there might be a response, but it dies in his throat, and Pomni wonders where it went before she realizes it. Her face is only inches away from his own, bangs tickling the sides of his cheeks, just the faintest, feathery touch. His ears straighten quickly, flicking one way and then the other, that crimson shade reaching the tips.
Hot, warm breath reaches her face and she doesn't move back. The shadow from the screen illuminates the space around them like a spotlight.
"Jax…?"
She can't pull back and she doesn't know if it's a conscious choice or a oh fuck this is actually happening—
He's staring at her eyes again, like he's getting lost in them like all those other times tonight he never addressed or explained. And maybe there isn't any sensible explanation for this; something that happened, and she—Pomni doesn't seem to want to question it at all. Heat envelops her but it's not the uncomfortable kind, heart racing at a million miles a minute.
So why'd you come?
Offer a hand to pull him up, but the hand doesn't come because he's reaching his instead.
Her hand goes out to his. But he's not going for her hand.
It finds the side of her hair, and his hold is strangely gentle. Brushing it off his face, smoothing it across the side of her own. Her breath comes slow.
"Your hair…"
Oh God.
"…it's so rectanglely."
That snaps the moment in half.
"God forbid I actually have realistic hair," she says, and it comes out wobbly, messed up by the lump in her throat.
For a moment, she almost imagines him getting closer is a dream from how light her head is. Is he going to…
Their composure splinters and they scramble for words.
"Okay okay help me up."
"Yup yup."
Her hand links to his and she heaves, falling back in her own chair to find to strength to pull him up. Jax spins, falling gracefully into the chair next to her own, other hand picking up the remains of the popcorn bucket.
She looks at the screen again—look at anything but him—and there's explosions on her eyes, a muddle of colors and screaming clones that muted into the background the longer she paid little attention. But the sound's not the only pressure on her head, there's something warm still in her grasp.
Her eyes find Jax before finding her hand.
She's still holding onto him. Both palms, intertwined, laid in the space between them.
Jax looks terrified, heightened by the light in his eyes, breath coming in twos. His hand pulls away but he's looking at her while doing it.
Is this a mistake? Pomni knows not if that's what he's asking, but she knows; that tension's in the hands, and before she can give it two thoughts, let alone one, she finds it faster and tightens the hold.
This is okay. She beams and just like that—the atmosphere drops like a curtain.
Pomni hopes that the others were enjoying their own movie, mentally noting another time to make right for her own sudden departure. But she can't imagine herself leaving now, especially not as she feels him move toward her again.
Hand in hand, he chuckles as clone-Ragatha gets ejected into the void unknown by flying car bombs.
"Ha, called it."
He really did.