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Jamie isn’t sure when the times he had been the most at ease had shifted from moments of solitude to moments spent with Grace.
He doesn’t know why the thought hits him while they’re studying, though, a lot does seem to happen while they’re studying, or while Grace is studying while Jamie glances over the pages of the book in his lap.
He wasn’t really absorbing the words on the pages of the book— some murder mystery he had grabbed off the shelves that’s probably Deja’s— anymore, too busy observing the person in front of him.
Grace was sat on the floor in front of the coffee table with her back against the couch, an array of notebooks, textbooks, and various pens and highlighters covering it. Her laptop was open on the free space left, with an empty cup of tea next to it.
Jamie was sat beside her, on the couch, an open book on his lap. His phone is on the arm of the couch with a few unread notifications from Elio and Percy on the screen.
The apartment was unusually quiet— Deja had run out for something and made Cameron tag along last he had heard, something for a SGB event if he had to guess— save for the sound of him flipping a page or Grace highlighting something.
He wasn’t quite sure when he started associating comfort with Grace, but he thinks he likes Grace best when she’s comfortable.
She’s in a Wryn-Mayer hoodie and a matching pair of sweatpants with her hair is hanging in a loose braid over one her shoulders. Jamie can’t see her face from where he’s sitting but he’s sure it’s in her usual scowl despite her relaxed posture.
Jamie’s noticed that her shoulders are almost always tense when they’re out and around people, almost like she’s performing almost all of the time.
He thinks he can relate, to an extent, but something uncomfortable festers in his gut at the thought of her thinking she needs to perform.
Which— that sounds bad. He feels the arch of his brown furrow before he straightens them, blinking.
He would never coddle her— he would never even think of doing it, and she wouldn’t let him, so it isn’t that. He just wishes he could take away her stress for a week or two. Maybe take her away to an secluded island for a week, something cheesy like that.
“What’s wrong?”
Jamie startles slightly, losing his grip on the pages and letting the book fall shut. He hadn’t realized he had been staring at her until he nearly zoned out but he doesn’t really have it in him to feel frustrated or embarrassed, especially with the way Grace is looking up at him, some strands of hair around her face and poorly concealed worry in her voice.
He wondered what weny through her mind in moments of domesticity like this. If she felt the same emotions he did, if it scared her a little like it did him.
He doesn’t ask her any of this. He stands up, placing the closed book on the edge of the coffee table.
“Nothing.” He says, and he sees Grace’s mouth screw up like she doesn’t quite believe him and he himself has to keep an amused smile off his own face.
“I was going to have another cup of tea. Do you want one?” He asks, already reaching for her mug.
Grace hums in agreement, letting Jamie slide for now, he supposes.
“Thank you.” She says softly before turning back to whatever she was writing down as Jamie heads into the kitchen.
He rinses their mugs out before grabbing two tea bags from the pantry— Jasmine— and placing them inside of the mugs. The kettle is still mostly full from earlier so he flicks on the burner and sits on one of the barstools at the island as he waits.
Grace tends to favor Jasmine tea, he’s noticed. He thinks it suits her.
The flower itself symbolizes elegance and resilience, which are traits he thinks she encapsulates well. The tea itself is flowery and subtle and relaxing which is easy to associate with her. The language of flowers is another one Jamie is intimately familiar with. He could give Grace a book of flowers he associates her with, he’s sure. Maybe a future gift idea.
The kettle whistles and Jamie swiftly pours them both a cup, making sure to grab a good amount of sugar for Grace.
He walks back to the living room, setting their cups down on the free space on an end table before he looks over to see Grace fast asleep, her arms folded underneath her head as her cheek is rested on them.
Jamie lets out an almost involuntarily hum, letting himself smile at the sight.
Logically, Jamie knows that if he leaves her like that she’ll wake up in a couple hours and complain of a sore neck and wasted tea, but he doesn’t want to try to move her and risk waking her. Cameron has mentioned how they can tell she’s barely been sleeping as is.
Instead, he grabs a throw blanket off the back of the couch and drapes it over her shoulders, reaching down to gently pull her glasses off her face and set them on the end table as he does.
He brushes back some hair from her forehead before planting a feather light kiss to it, letting out a soft chuckle when her nose scrunches up in her sleep at the feeling.
“Sleep well.” He mumbles, grabbing the book back up off the coffee table and settling back down on the couch, flipping it open.
He knows that in an hour or two Deja and Cameron will come into the apartment, or Elio will call him, and accidentally wake her up. He knows when she does she’ll be grumpy and irritated about the soreness in her neck and having to clean her mess off the coffee table before she actually goes to lay down.
He also knows that he’ll rub the soreness out of her neck if she lets him. He knows he’ll offer to help her clean up before he heads home and he knows she’ll most likely say no. He knows when he leaves she’ll kiss him on the cheek and going bright red afterwards and he knows as he’s walking out he’ll hear the sounds of Deja’s affectionate teasing through the door.
For now, though, he’ll read his book and be content with the fact that Grace finds peace with him just as he finds it with her.