aimedforthemoon | (no subject)

(no subject)

This is starting to be a habit. Not that Esfir minds - your homes are where you can relax, talk openly, not have to pretend.

Which is why when she leads Cal in and points to her bed (presently looking more like a sofa, with how she's arranged the pillows), she turns and locks the door.

Habit.

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It might just be a little contagious. A little bit.

"Half my problem before was the all the damage I'd done to myself," he tells her. "The nanogenes cleared that right up." Pause. "I bet I could keep up with you."

"Given your legs are same height as me...you might."

Well, it's no fun if she agrees that quickly.

But still, Cal's expression is lighter than it was a moment ago.

"Maybe we should make it a race, then. I could even give you a head start."

"A head start."

Surely Esfir can forgive Cal for still being a little too disoriented to know when to - well. Quit when he's ahead, so to speak.

"You did just say I'm taller," he points out. "I'd hate to have an unfair advantage."

He bites into his sandwich. The knots in his stomach are loosening up a little; this time it's easier to swallow.

"You may be faster, if you can now use your legs. But I will still always be able to run you into the dirt."

"My stamina's gone through the roof. I can go twice as far as before without even feeling it."

Well. More or less. He doesn't feel like his heart's going to explode when he's done, which he counts as significant progress. It's amazing, how much difference a simple fixing of damage can do.

"Do you want a race, or something more long distance?"

Cal wants both, naturally, but even with the mindset he's in right now, he knows Esfir could still toast him in a marathon race. Besides, he's come to like the longer runs. They take up more time.

"More long distance," he says. "It's what I usually do." Unless it's too cold.

"Long distance. And a race. But I won't tell you when."

Cal snorts.

"If you're gonna surprise me, then no headstart," he tells her.

"As you seem to be going to set the pace...oke."

And she takes a bite of bread, serenely.

"Fair's fair," Cal says.

He looks at his sandwich, fiddles with it a bit, then says,

"I'm glad you made me start running."

It's not something he ever thought he'd say.

She glances at him, surprised.

He looks up very briefly, awkward. Then his sandwich needs further attention.

"It's something to do," he says. "I try to do it at the same time every day, and it - makes it easier to keep track of time passing here. Kinda gives shape to the day? And. I mean I was in really lousy shape before. I didn't even know how shitty I felt all the time until I felt better. I mean it was the nanogenes, but running helps keep it up. I run twice as far now because I can."

Esfir smiles at him.

"You get it."

Cal looks up at her tone and smiles back, his first real smile since he stepped through his door.

"Yeah," he says. "I guess I do."

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