complexguy | ★ but I'm going to be okay as long as you're beside me along the way

He smirks a little. "You're a bad influence, Juliet. Gonna get me in trouble."

She scoffs as she hands him one and the lighter.

"You gonna narc on me?"

He shakes his head, still smirking. "Only 'cause you're my girl." He takes the joint and lights it, but pauses to confess something. "Never smoked one of these before."

Juliet actually as to sit up and stare at him. Not because he hasn't but because she has and he hasn't.

"Oh my God, you were more of a square than I was in high school, is that what you're saying right now?"

He raises an eyebrow, curious and a little amused, though he'll certainly do his best to dodge talk of his adolescence since it wasn't very pretty.

"The hell kind of kid you think I was?" It's said in amusement and he is genuinely curious what her perception of him at that age was. He also has no idea how to smoke a joint, so he's just prepared to smoke it like an actual cigarette.

Juliet reaches out and covers his hand for a second, a soft smile in her eyes.

"Don't inhale too hard, like you would a cigarette. Slow draw, okay?"

She lights hers in demonstration, sitting up now and taking a slow, steady drag on her own. She holds it for a few seconds before exhaling.

"See? Smooth. And hmm. Let's see." Juliet settles back down beside him on her back, takes another hit as she thinks. When she exhales this time, she turns her head to look at him.

"And I had you as stereotypical T-Bird type in my head. You know, the popular school jerk who wins over the quiet shy girl from an island who probably never heard a genuine compliment until him."

She's amused too, but she's also just a little curious. Juliet has never questioned him about his childhood, and they both know why.

He's sitting up for now, not yet ready to lay back with her. Taking a slow drag the way she showed him, James inhales and slowly exhales.

"Well, you go on thinkin' that," he tosses over his shoulder at her, still with a soft smirk on his lips.

Juliet watches him from where she's lying, eyes moving over him. He crashed on an island and within 72 hours, she knew his full name, date of birth, social security number, and every horrific detail of his life. But details aren't knowing someone.

Reaching up, her hand slides up his back slowly, hesitating when she feels tense muscles. She decides to turn it around, letting him make his best guess about her.

"Well, what about me? How do you think I was in high school?"

"Well, let's see..." He takes another drag and then lays down next to her. "Probably the one with good grades, everyone tryin' to cheat off you during exams. Am I close?"

Juliet snorts.

"Well. You're right about the grades, I'll give you that." She inhales, thinking, then slowly exhales.

"No one cheated off of me, so much as cornerd me for my notes. I was a pushover," Juliet tells him matter-of-factly. "Hated confrontation, too afraid to even run. Rachel saved my ass more times than I can even remember, probably."

"You were that girl that woulda been too good for me," he concludes softly, eyes focusing on the stars.

Juliet's quiet, because she certainly doesn't think so. She doesn't think he would have even noticed her enough to think she was out of his league in high school. But this isn't about that, and she shifts until she can lay with her head on his stomach, laying sideways.

"Well, look at us now, LaFleur. In love and getting stoned together on an island in the middle of literally fucking nowhere."

She grins, just a touch, then takes another pull from her joint.

"You know. Miles and that one really bouncy redheaded woman are the ones who returned the Jeep I found this in. What's she do for the security team?"

As if Juliet hasn't just used a van for the exact same purpose.

"He got a new girl already?" James smirks softly, thinking of his friend and his notorious penchant for cycling through women; all the new recruits, particularly. "Can't keep 'em straight."

Part of him wants to share some kind of memory with her, like she shared with him. But he can't think of any good ones. They're all fucking depressing, and he feels too happy to wanna talk about that shit now.

So he just lays there with her happily, running his fingers through her hair.

She doesn't mind it. She likes letting him see pieces of her, the things she's ready to give him. And she knows her life was a far cry from his, that there his well of good things worth sharing might not be as deep. So she doesn't push, doesn't ask him for stories. He'll tell her things when he's ready.

And she hopes he'll eventually trust her with the terrible things, too.

"Miles does like variety," she says with a snort before remembering something.

"Did I tell you Amy wants to come over and make me over? I dunno if I should be flattered or offended."

James screws up his face a little in confusion, halfway through another puff of his joint. "Make-over?" He drawls out the word. "The hell does that even mean?"

He's heard it before, of course. He's just never understood what the fuck it is. How does someone get "made over," and why?

For some reason, his confusion is absolutely hilarious, and she laughs, coughing a little as she does.

"Because she can't possibly imagine grease and jumpsuits is attractive to you. I guess she wants to see how I would 'fill out' a dress. See what I'd look like in makeup. Which I hardly wore before the island."

He's not quite there with the amusement yet, if only because he's more confused. "Puttin' on a dress and fancy makeup makes you a whole new person or somethin'?"

He's not understanding. Help him.

She smiles and thinks as she takes another draw, then she hums.

"It's like...feeling different. Putting on a dress, feeling..." She doesn't know that she's felt this way about herself, personally, but she gets it enough to explain. "Feeling sexy, I guess. In something you would never normally wear, for a special occasion."

She's doing a terrible job, so she adds: "Playing dress up the way kids do, but for adults, basically."

Sorry, Juliet. This is just one of those things he'll need to see to understand. "But you're already sexy."

That makes her blush, though it shouldn't. She knows how he feels about her, knows that he loves her now.

"I don't think it's for anyone but Amy. Think about it." Juliet rolls over onto her stomach so she can see his face.

"Her husband's dead. And for a while, everyone looked at her like she did something wrong. Like maybe it was her fault for suggesting a picnic." Juliet knows what that's like, to be whispered about, glanced at.

"I think she just needs a friend and something to do." Rolling onto her back now so that her head's beside his, she speaks again softly.

"I can't believe she decided to stay."

"Yeahhhhh," he drags the word out longer than necessary. "Couldn't handle it myself."

He takes another puff of his joint. "Well, tell her to go on and do whatever she wants, then."

Honestly, Juliet could say or do anything right now and he'd be fine with it and think it was great.

Juliet finishes her joint, putting the butt in an empty can of beer before having another thought.

"Don't ever do that to me," she says slowly, eyes moving over his features until she meets his gaze again. "Don't ever leave me here all alone."

There's a smile on his face that's a little loose and dopey, and he sweeps a hand through her hair tenderly. "Now, why would I go and do that? Got a damn good thing right here."

"Well. I'm pretty bad luck. Ex got hit by a bus. Married guy I slept with got killed by a group of crash survivors. Sure you wanna risk it?"

She laughs in spite of the maudlin topic and drags her fingers up and down his arm slowly.

"Maybe I'm bad news."

Once again, though, he's feeling too good about everything to see it from the perspective she is. "Can't be bad news if you make me feel this good all the time."

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