[ he isn't the only one. she studies aristaeus, remembering how stricken he'd been after she had returned from the castle. how erratic. he wasn't throwing her things at the wall, but he had freaked out in his own way.
both of them had to face it again. ]
I'm sorry.
[ she isn't used to it. having people. she has always been on her own, and therefore never needed to consider others in what she did, never had to anticipate long-term consequences for anything and how they would tilt a relationship. she keeps hurting people. she feels like a cactus, all spines. ]
well. he hadn't seen that coming. and it's strange, having come this far, having fought so hard for any kind of acknowledgement that now that he has it, he doesn't know what to do with it.
he settles for lifting a shoulder. )
No need.
( there's no rolling back what's already happened. besides, she's alive, that was always the part that mattered to him. )
[ well. she won't push it, if he doesn't. she wedges her arm under her head again, just watching him. she has a cat's idleness, even like this, far from her transformation.
she thought she would feel different. and she does, in a way. there's a peacefulness about the room, despite the melancholy left in the wake of felipe's anger. she has put angry ghosts to rest by trying her best to fight for them, and now she can stop fighting her own feelings instead. ]
I am not going back to the Void. [ she offers this as a compromise, a demonstration of her commitment to the terms of the challenge. ] You are not going either.
( he pauses mid-reach into the jar. did she think he'd try to change her mind? but, no — this isn't about her. it's about him. his plans.
he hadn't settled on whether he was going or not. as angry as he'd been about her leaving, he also had no reason to believe she was lying about what she'd seen.
but it'd also be a lie to say he wasn't curious. and if anyone was likely to make it through in one piece, it'd probably be him. )
( well. when she puts it like that ... he still wants to argue.
she can probably tell. can hear him turn it over in his head, weighing and measuring, before deciding to set it aside. the void isn't going anywhere. )
[ it feels nice, when she lets it. when she can assure herself that he has earned it, that no one would reproach her for following the rules of her people. her only crime was weakness.
she lifts a hand to cover his as she turns her face, pressing her cheek into his palm and breathing deep of him. reminding herself that he is alive, too. ]
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no subject
[ he isn't the only one. she studies aristaeus, remembering how stricken he'd been after she had returned from the castle. how erratic. he wasn't throwing her things at the wall, but he had freaked out in his own way.
both of them had to face it again. ]
I'm sorry.
[ she isn't used to it. having people. she has always been on her own, and therefore never needed to consider others in what she did, never had to anticipate long-term consequences for anything and how they would tilt a relationship. she keeps hurting people. she feels like a cactus, all spines. ]
no subject
well. he hadn't seen that coming. and it's strange, having come this far, having fought so hard for any kind of acknowledgement that now that he has it, he doesn't know what to do with it.
he settles for lifting a shoulder. )
No need.
( there's no rolling back what's already happened. besides, she's alive, that was always the part that mattered to him. )
no subject
she thought she would feel different. and she does, in a way. there's a peacefulness about the room, despite the melancholy left in the wake of felipe's anger. she has put angry ghosts to rest by trying her best to fight for them, and now she can stop fighting her own feelings instead. ]
I am not going back to the Void. [ she offers this as a compromise, a demonstration of her commitment to the terms of the challenge. ] You are not going either.
no subject
( he pauses mid-reach into the jar. did she think he'd try to change her mind? but, no — this isn't about her. it's about him. his plans.
he hadn't settled on whether he was going or not. as angry as he'd been about her leaving, he also had no reason to believe she was lying about what she'd seen.
but it'd also be a lie to say he wasn't curious. and if anyone was likely to make it through in one piece, it'd probably be him. )
no subject
[ it's not up for negotiation, in other words. if he gets to make those kinds of demands, state them as unmitigated fact, then she will do the same. ]
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she can probably tell. can hear him turn it over in his head, weighing and measuring, before deciding to set it aside. the void isn't going anywhere. )
Fine. ( a little nod. he has plans, anyway. )
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[ she raps her knuckle on the mason jar's base. ]
You have no plans until you recover.
[ then, yawning, she pulls the blanket back over her and shuts her eyes. ]
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the audacity of him to enjoy it, even a little.
silence. he makes his way to the bottom of the mason jar, sets it aside with the mug and then reaches for her, brushing the hair back from her ear.
it's a concession; a reminder — she's not alone. )
no subject
she lifts a hand to cover his as she turns her face, pressing her cheek into his palm and breathing deep of him. reminding herself that he is alive, too. ]