Ford's shoulders softened at the question. "Yeah," he agreed, soft. Talking was a good step. Whatever Cash said would be important — it would be impossible, in a moment like this, to talk about something that wasn't important, even if it took a moment to parse out why it was important. Even if that wasn't true, it was time. Time spent talking was time here, time here was time — not leaving, yet. Ford loosened his grip on Cash, unfurling his arms. A slight gap opened between them and for half a moment Ford felt sheepish. This would have been inexplicable, if someone had come up to his door. He brushed the feeling away almost immediately, though — no one was going to interrupt them, because this moment was too big, and he didn't have time to feel sheepish. They were going to talk.
Ford's bedroom was not designed for company. No one came here, not even his wife; he went to her bedroom when he wanted to see her. There was a chair at the desk against one wall, but it was the only one. When Cash had been here before, a few nights before the wedding, they'd sat on the floor with a gin bottle between them. Now Ford led him to the bed instead — symbolic, perhaps, of a soft place to land. He let Cash take the space by the headboard, while he sat near the foot of the bed and pulled one knee up underneath himself. "Do you want to start, or do you want me to ask?"
Ford's bedroom was not designed for company. No one came here, not even his wife; he went to her bedroom when he wanted to see her. There was a chair at the desk against one wall, but it was the only one. When Cash had been here before, a few nights before the wedding, they'd sat on the floor with a gin bottle between them. Now Ford led him to the bed instead — symbolic, perhaps, of a soft place to land. He let Cash take the space by the headboard, while he sat near the foot of the bed and pulled one knee up underneath himself. "Do you want to start, or do you want me to ask?"
Set by Lady!