thingsthatshine | Open Post

Tim hadn't ever had goat cheese until Prim came along. It isn't something that people in small town Texas eat. In fact, it's entirely possible that before Prim, Tim hadn't ever had any cheese that didn't come wrapped in cellophane. He's never tried to grow anything either. Honestly, Prim has opened him up to a whole new world of things, good things and there aren't many people in his life that have done that.

Unfortunately, Tim doesn't know that code.

He glances up once to catch her gaze through the front windshield of the truck and it makes him grin. That's a smile that's still on his face when he opens the driver's door and gets inside.

It takes a couple of tries for the truck to start up, but it does. He pulls away from the curb and looks over to Prim. "I'm not picky when it comes to food. I'm sure I'll like everything just fine," he tells her. "You can put the basket on the floorboard if you want. I won't drive too reckless and tip it over."

He'll probably learn the code eventually. Prim hasn't exactly been dishonest about Panem and the Games, but she hasn't had much reason to talk about them. She has flashbacks on occasion, though not nearly as bad as when she first got back to Itinere. The most she usually says is that she's remembering the Rebellion and the war. There are some things she just doesn't like to talk about with other people.

Her coma and her sister's death are two of those things. The Games have also become part of those things. And mockingjays.

For now, though, she just glances at him as he pulls the truck out and starts them on their way. "I know. I trust that you wouldn't. I just..." She purses her lips and looks down at the basket. This is all tied into those things she doesn't talk about, but she's starting to like Tim and maybe even trust him a little bit. "It's easier if I have something in my hands. I guess it keeps me grounded. It... reminds me that this is real; it's not just a dream."

He might have noticed that this is a thing with her. Usually, it's nothing really noticeable, like herbs or containers from her shop, small string, things she uses every day. But she keeps her hands busy, if not simply resting on something or gripping her pants or the hem of her shirt or something like that. She isn't like Finnick was, though; she doesn't tie and retie a thick piece of rope. She just... keeps her hands on or around something firm.

He knows a little about her life and knows that it wasn't great. He doesn't push or prod her to tell him more unless she seems open to talking about it. He certainly doesn't want to push her into talking about anything that'll upset her. Tim (like many men) has no idea what to do with a crying woman, at least nothing that he feels is helpful.

He knows she has a sister, of course, and he knows that Prim doesn't want to leave Itinere because of her sister. He can assume enough to realize that her sister is probably dead back home. He's not the brightest bulb in the batch, but he's not dumb either.

His brow furrows and he glances over at Prim as she talks. In response, he puts an open hand on the seat between them, fingers spread out. It's an invitation to hold onto his hand if she wants. He's never really been an anchor for anyone, but he thinks he can manage giving Prim something to hold onto if that's what she needs.

He's noticed that she generally liked to keep her hands busy, but he hadn't realized now until she'd explained it. He'll take notice more often and, likely, offer his hand to hold onto if she likes, if she doesn't turn down his offer now.

The hand reaching out towards her is unexpected, and for a few seconds she just holds the basket tighter. She's never had an anchor that wasn't her sister, never felt comfortable enough asking for one or being one for anyone else. But Tim is different. So she takes a deep breath, setting the basket on the floor between her feet and sliding her hand into his.

It's different, holding someone else's hand. She can't say she doesn't like it, but it's definitely different. His hand is larger by far than Katniss' and warmer somehow. Her fingers wrap around his hand and she holds on, her grip not exactly tight, but definitely not loose, either. If he's going to keep at least one hand occupied, he'll have to deal with her grip.

She ducks her head nervously, but the smile that crosses her face should say enough that she's happy and grateful to have him there for her. The soft, "Thank you," she offers alongside it echoes that.

When she slides her hand into his, he curls his fingers around her tiny hand and squeezes it. His hands are a little callused and scarred from working on cars, but also from fighting. He doesn't make a big deal of her holding his hand, simply drives.

He doesn't mind her grip at all. In fact, he likes that she's holding on tightly to him. "Alright, scoot on closer over here. Put one leg on either side of the stick shift," he instructs.

Yes, he's going to have her shift gears for him. Honestly, there's nothing that she can really do to hurt this truck that he hasn't already done.

Prim is used to people who have calluses on their hands and feet. She probably would have developed some sooner or later if she hadn't been so interested in being a doctor. She's always needed to keep her hands smooth so she can grip her equipment and help keep people calm. Here this is less of a concern, but she still has never been much of a worker in that sense.

"What?" she gasps, half a laugh of incredulity and half actual worry. "Is there room on your side?"

There's no point in asking if it's safe. It probably isn't, but she knows Tim wouldn't ask her to do anything outright dangerous. He's not like that. He wouldn't risk hurting her.

He likes her hands the way that they are. They're a sharp contrast to his and he likes that a lot.

He smirks. "Plenty of room, Darlin'," he tells her, tugging on her hand to pull her closer.

It's not legal and if he has a wreck, it wouldn't be safe, but he's never had a wreck. That's saying something, isn't it?

Prim looks dubious, but she finally scoots over. Draping one leg over the middle, she tries hard not to take up too much space while making sure the basket won’t turn over on the floor. “This is weird,” she says nervously with a soft giggle. “What do I do now?”

She's definitely not going to take up too much space. Tim lays his arm across her thigh, hand close enough to the gear shift he can reach it if necessary, though there isn't much she can do to this truck that he and Billy haven't. "Alright, put your hand on the gear shift," he tells her. "Right now, it's in 4th gear. You see how it's pulled down a little closer to the seat? The gears go in an H. First is up here," he gestures with his hand, his forearm still on her leg. "Second here. Neutral is in the middle then third up there and fourth down here. When I tell you to, I want you to push up on the gear shift until you feel it slide into neutral. It'll have some wiggle in neutral. You can feel that here in fourth, it don't have any wiggle."

She's a little nervous about all of this, but even the arm across her thigh isn't enough for her to want to shake him off. She likes him. This is okay.

She spares a nod as he gives his instructions. Placing her hand on the gear shift, she takes a deep breath and grips it tightly. "Okay. Tell me when."

Tim isn't astute enough to really notice her nerves or to realize it might be about his closeness rather than driving.

He gives the truck a little gas then "Now," he tells her, easing the clutch in and watching her hands. He keeps his hand close so that he can reach up and help if she needs, but his truck is older than Tim himself. The gearshift is loose and she shouldn't have any problem sliding it into gear.

Prim wasn't really expecting anything in particular. Well, no, maybe she was expecting the shift to be harder or more awkward. But she does exactly what he told her and the gear shifts easily into place. She's a little surprised and has to work not to go over where he wanted it, but once it's settled in, she glances at him.

"So what did that do?"

Tim keeps glancing between the road and Prim, unable to stop from grinning at her. "Switched it to a higher gear so that we can go faster without tearing the engine up. If you listen, you can hear it's working a lot less to make us go a faster speed."

The idea of going faster is a bit frightening and her hands curl around the gear shift. She hasn't really had anything that could carry her fast aside from the air craft they took to get into the Capitol. But this feels different.

"Not too fast, please," she says, her voice a little tighter than normal.

Not too fast too soon and no crazy stunts. She's still getting used to the idea of things not hurting as much, but she never knows what might trigger a flashback or make her remember things. The last thing she nees is to have that happen while she's straddling the gear shift.

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