heliophilic | IC Inbox

[ She's not a completely terrible friend — so she obligingly refills his glass too, topping him off rather generously. It's a good thing he's steady-handed.

WIth the same dryness: ]

What, like I'm not capable of a little romance?

[How kind.

With the exact same dryness:]

I don't know, have you tried in the past millenia?

Yeah.

[ A bit quietly: ]

I have.

[Well shit. Way to make her feel bad, asshole.

He shifts as he adds, softer:]

Something you don't want to talk about?

[ She doesn't answer right away. For a second, her grip tightens slightly on her glass, then she suddenly tips the whole thing back, chugging her drink like the seasoned alcoholic she is before she finally responds: ]

Just been a while, that's all.

[Slowly, hesitantly, he puts his hand on her shoulder.]

Sorry.

[ She lets him. They're close enough for that, aren't they? ]

What for?

Being an ass.

Just because I can see every outcome before it's made, doesn't mean that it's the right one. Sometimes I pick the one that hurts the most out of habit.

[ Ah. She must really seem pathetic, for him to back off like that. For him to apologize like that. That realization makes her huff out a little breath, half-annoyed with herself. ]

Stop. Don't do that.

[ She scrubs a hand over her face. ]

You don't have to go easy on me just because I'm a moody old woman.

[M just shoots her a look.]

There's going easy and then there's being a dick about love.

If we were talking to me five years ago, the claws would be out. What the fuck did I care?

But you clearly loved at least one someone. Who am I to fuck with that?

You should save this romantic side for Apollo. [ She answers with a twinge of wryness, still trying to play it off, waving a hand dismissively in M's general direction ] It doesn't matter. I'm fucking ancient, so yeah, I've been in love once or twice.

[ She may or may not be in love now, but fuck. She doesn't need to admit that out loud. ]

I can be multi-talented.

[He pauses.]

Look, I'm... not going to talk about it if you don't want to, but you know how to reach me.

You were prying into my love life?

Nothing to talk about. He's dead. The one before him is dead. And the one before that too.

[ She sighs heavily, sagging against the couch so that her head falls backward, her face pointed towards the ceiling and her eyes closed. ]

Just let me be happy for you.

[He... kind of figured, once he shut the fuck up. It's why he eased up so fast. He leans down and quickly kisses the top of her hair while rubbing her back.]

Leave it to you to be excited your husband is seeing other men.

[ It's comforting, that gesture. The human contact. For a moment, there's a subtle crack in the mask of her carefully crafted indifference — she instinctively leans towards him as he leans towards her, those dark eyebrows drawing together ever so slightly when he kisses the top of her head, something soft and a little sad in her face.

Her wryness is absent and quiet when she answers him: ]

You're lucky I'm that kind of wife.

[M's not the best at comforting people, but even he can see that what he's doing is making a difference, so he keeps it up, his hand rubbing small circles into Andy's upper back, and placing another kiss on top of her head before opting to just lean his head against hers instead.

He really is a dick sometimes, even when he doesn't want to be.]

I'm lucky you humored me with that HypeReader quiz all that time ago.

[ Gods, is she really that transparent? Is it really that obvious, how much she wants to feel connected to somebody else at moments like this? She should probably pull away. Say something dismissive, as if that would prove that she's fine. That the cracks aren't actually showing.

Instead, she just lets her head lean against his, some of the tension easing from her neck and letting her posture sink into something a little heavier.

In a low mutter: ]

I'm lucky you still wanted to be my friend after I made you kill me.

ImPort bullshit made me kill you.

[Despite the easiness of his words, he tenses somewhat at the thought. He doesn't like to remember it.

It's the first time he's killed someone that he actually felt something about... Felt something he didn't like.]

That wasn't how I wanted to check off "kill the unkillable" off my bucket list.

[ She doesn't really like to remember it either. Mostly because it had been too easy to give into the dying. The whole thing was all the worse for her relief. ]

I got better. [ A twinge of wryness: ] Learned a thing or two along the way.

That you don't come to me whenever you want to try again?

[ She looks at him then. Really looks at him.

Simply, at length: ]

I don't want to try again.

[M's fallen silent for a while, digesting what she just said. He gives her another kiss on the top of her head.]

I'm happy for you.

[Not that she doesn't want to die anymore. That she's found something worth living for.]

[ In that moment, all her sharp edges seem worn away. She just quietly tilts her head towards him, quietly accepting that kiss without trying to deflect or feign indifference. For a little while, she doesn't say anything back. Then finally, she reaches for his nearest hand, giving it a brief squeeze. ]

Happy for you too.

[ A bit wryly then: ]

Guess we should try not to fuck it up.

[He returns the squeeze, looking down at her with an uncharacteristic smile. Their friendship might not be orthodox, but at this moment all M can think of is how right it feels.]

Oh, we will. [It's a light, joking comment.]

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