['Good boy,' his ass. As Mal may have learned just earlier in the day, he's not all he seems to be, no matter how convincing the 'regular stupid kid' act is. He's got some observation of his own to do before he can start spouting theories. As it is, Ethan may not be a threat, but who knows if that'll change.
He glances back over to her at her approach, but he doesn't really pull away or anything. There's probably some stupid joke to be made about having a girl in his bed, but he's not really feeling it.]
Tch... Still soft on kids as ever, huh? [Unsurprising. He heaves a sigh and closes his eyes, his voice sounding a little resigned.] But you know, it's crueler to just let him chase after hopeless love like that.
[And also, probably more of a pain in the ass for everyone else in this room.]
If he falls that easily, he'll fall out of it just as easily. A girl can be nice to a boy without any romantic subtext.
[ It's dismissive in its distraction; even if his eyes are closed, she's staring straight at him without blinking. When she speaks again, her voice is almost casual, like something she's just remembering to bring up in passing. ]
Besides, I think you'd be better at understanding a "hopeless love" than me.
[He can't help it - his eyes snap right open at that, but just as quickly as he meets her gaze he shuts them more tightly. His brow twitches and furrows a little more.]
[ Her voice is gentle, but almost without inflection. Like a very sharp knife, the words sound kind until things are left open and bleeding in their wake. ]
[She's buffing. Or just teasing. She has to be. Because there's no way... no way that she knows exactly what everyone else in the world seems to have pieced together somehow. Everyone but Luna himself... or has he, too?
Mal's bone-dry mouth opens, closes, opens again. Only a strained sound comes out at first as he tries to think of some diversion, but it's no good, is it? Why the hell is she bringing it up now if she's known for longer?
He finally forces himself to look right at her, searching her face for some kind of sign. Anger, or smug amusement, or even- (Despair) -something else. Anything that isn't this apparent calm before the storm. Just yell at him, slap him, cast him aside already. He deserves it.]
I'm-- It's not...
[There is no me and Luna. He grits his teeth and drops his gaze like a dog that's been caught in the trash.]
[ She folds her hands together in her lap. The gesture is relaxed enough at first glance, but her knuckles are white, and there's a faint, faint tremor in them. After a moment, she digs her nails into her own skin, letting that small physical pain keep her grounded. Now that he's looking back, she can't quite make herself meet his eyes; instead she fixes her gaze at a point on his cheek -- close, but not quite.
Her voice wavers a little as she speaks: the words come slowly at first, then faster, until they're a tangled rush: ]
I mean back in high school, I used to think, haha, it's a good thing that you weren't actually a rival, because I never worried about any of the other girls in our class or otherwise around us, I never worried about any of the women he met when he was abroad, but you...!
[ She takes a deep breath, chewing on the inside of her cheek for a few seconds. ]
But I always told myself, it's fine, he doesn't want that. He's not interested in anyone at all, so of course not Luna, and I--
[ Well. Fine. Now she lifts her eyes to his, solemn. ]
I realized I was right, but also that I was wrong. You were interested.
[He remembers, vaguely, a time he almost gave himself away just to get it off his chest. Back then, the weight was so much lighter, but Peony misinterpreted his hint at a confession and so he locked it back down. If only he had any idea what kind of burden it would become shortly after.
He made his choice; whatever the consequences are now, they've been a long time coming. He can't outrun them anymore. He takes a deep breath in and holds it for a second before releasing it, slow and shaky. And then he repeats himself, a little more sternly.]
Yeah, you got me. I've... tried to get rid of that interest, see if I could pin it on someone else, but... [His brows knit together in agony.] Nobody came close. [She can at least understand that, he knows. He sits up and lets his head drop so he can rub at the back of his neck.]
So what?! I thought if I couldn't get rid of these feelings, at least I wouldn't act on them. I can't compete with what you guys have. And I don't want to take it away from you. [But he's done so much worse than that because of it, hasn't he?] ...If you hate me for it, just say so. I get it.
[ She recoils a little at that, though she doesn't break the eye contact either. In her lap, her hands twitch, though she doesn't actually unclasp them. Yet.
Hate him? Him? The idea is so ridiculous that she can't actually figure out how to respond at first, which means the silence drags out uncomfortably long as she just stares. It's almost a full minute of it before she blurts it, because she's abruptly, uncomfortably aware of how this must look like to him, and once upon a time she would have enjoyed that agony, but now, now she can't-- ]
I don't! I never -- I would never. I--
[ No. No?? No, that's not right, that's not enough, and finally Peony forces herself to move, to unclasp her hands and make a grab for him, like she could somehow use contact to anchor them both. ]
Even when I was -- even "like that," I never hated you.
[ More like, she sometimes considered using his desire to orchestrate a scenario to break her own heart, for that despairing thrill, but something had always stopped her hand. And now, at least, she can appreciate that. ]
[It feels like the silence hangs in the air for hours. Like maybe time itself has stopped and trapped Mal in this purgatory between the jaws of karma, waiting for the killing blow.
But her voice turns those fangs to feathers and he starts at her touch. She doesn't hate him... Part of him knows he should have expected that from the start, but it's drowned out by the part that howls in fury, why? You should! At least justify his cowardice back then, or hate him for everything he allowed to happen, or something-!
Maybe having it rubbed in his face even more how much of a mistake he made is the better punishment.
And despite all that... Some of that weight that's been suffocating his heart finally eases off a little, and he swears he can physically feel it. His eyes are burning and as he squeezes them shut, he can feel moisture at the corners. Tears? Really? After all this time? No, he must be- he's just overtired- getting feverish from all the stress he's been under lately or something. A few ragged breaths of not-quite-laughter escape his lips.]
...Ah.
[He swallows down the lump in his throat and the corner of his mouth twists in what he isn't really sure is a smile.]
[ Maybe he's not crying, but she is. They're not the theatrically dramatic tears she'd perfected over the years -- the ones that she can summon now on command: the picture of gentle grief and all without ruining her makeup. Instead, these tears are small and catch in her lashes as her face goes red. Her breath hiccups a little, and she wipes quickly at her eyes like that would be enough to actually hide them from him. ]
I, I don't want to hear you making fun of me when I should be mad at you...! How dare you think that?
[ How dare, she says, but her voice is small and wobbly, and she has to rub harder at her eyes with her arm now. Those old fake tears had been a lot easier to turn off than these real ones, and there's a part of her that's genuinely afraid he'll mistake them. As much as she hopes that he'll take the half-joke as it is, her grip on his hand shakes, ready to let go and pull back at the first sign of his disapproval or anger. ]
What were you thinking, worrying that I'd ever hate you...
[Oh no, don't cry, don't cry! He wanted the opposite of this!! Is she actually mad at him for assuming the worst? She has every right to be, but that familiar old playfulness is still peeking through, too. What, uh... What should he do... Obviously, he can't provide the same comfort Luna's been seeking out in him lately, ssso...
He turns his hand over in hers, hesitating for a second before pulling it away entirely. Because maybe it would be a better comfort right now to put that arm around her shoulders and pat her back a little in what he hopes is a soothing enough gesture.]
Hey, come on...! Yeah, I'm- I'm a big idiot. [Please don't cry over it aaaAAAAAHHH-] ...Sorry.
Do you... need a minute?
[Why can't she just vent her emotions by punching him instead? He could sit and take that a lot easier!]
[ It's a disappointed noise when he pulls his hand away, though she repeats it again, more startled, when he puts his arm around her. What?? Whoa.
Because Peony has always liked physical contact, but she's always been uncertain of ever trying to initiate it with him. She's never doubted his friendship, but he's always been a prickly sort of man. The fact that he's doing this at all is weird, but -- if she's entirely honest -- it feels good.
So she slumps against him a little, raising one hand in a small fist and thumping it listlessly against his chest. Take that. And that! ]
[Because there's so much he's done wrong. Not just to her and Luna, but everyone. Apologies can't take anything back, and they won't ease that guilt of his any. Where would he even start?
It's easier to just join in a good round of the Deflection Game. He rests his chin on top of her head (god she's tiny compared to him) and mumbles:]
...I'm sorry I never taught you how to throw a proper punch.
[What kind of weak-ass hits are those supposed to be. You're not even trying, Peony.]
But after a few seconds she just lets her fist slide down his chest until it drops back into her lap, leaning harder against him. It feels a little wrong -- does he actually want this? even if he was the one who initiated it, he's always pushed himself harder than he should for her -- but at the same time, Peony finds herself extremely reluctant to pull back. Maybe it's okay to be a little selfish, just for a short while. For now, she can pretend he's just her friend and not her jailer too.
The comment gets a short watery laugh out of her before she turns her face against his chest, letting that muffle some of her words. ]
Aah, what if you had? I'd be dangerous.
[ Maybe Enoshima and her sister wouldn't have been able to catch her so easily. ]
[It is a little strange, isn't it? He hasn't completely avoided physical contact over the years, but he's always been the type to just kind of diligently put up with it when the few who he would allow it needed it instead of actually initiating anything. Maybe he's just grown so accustomed to it in the weeks he's spent giving comfort to Luna in Peony's place that it's easier to offer a little to the very woman who trained Luna to need it in the first place. The reality is that it's pretty fucked up. But for Mal, a little innocent touch that isn't his fist in someone's face or gut is... nice.
Weird, but nice.
A little less so when she reminds him that she's already plenty dangerous, isn't she? For a second a darkness clouds his mind over, and he conjures up the image of her hands in his lap, stained with the fresh blood running down the handle of a knife in their grip, and the pain of a recent wound twinges in his stomach and his back.
He does pull back a little, glancing down, but of course nothing's there. And he hates himself for doubting her, even now. But that's how Despair works, isn't it? Bringing out the worst in human beings. Turning them against even the people they love the most.]
...Good thing I'm not your enemy, then. [He's not fit to be much of a protector, either. Not even when he had both hands. It isn't smart to rely on only one or two things. He can still show her how to protect herself. (From him? If it comes to that? Which is the dumber move?)]
...You know... a bunch of kids here are already trying to pick it up from me.
[ She'd pulled back when he had, wrapping her arms around herself and gripping her elbows. It's not exactly trying to draw away from the embrace as long as he has that arm over her shoulders, but she huddles up smaller against him, like she could simply fold in on herself and disappear entirely.
Wouldn't that be nice? It'd be easier, at least. Her existence alone has caused him trouble even before Despair was an issue. If she hadn't been here, then maybe he and Luna could have--
No. No thinking about that. Peony takes a deep breath and dredges up a shaky little smile. ]
Haha... look at you. You never liked my students, and now you're the teacher.
[ What she means is, you never liked them even before everything happened, but she's aware of how it sounds as soon as she says it, when it's too late to take back. A beat later, she turns her head away, fixing her gaze on a point on the other side of the room. Is this really the right thing to do? Being close to him, pretending like things are fine... is she really selfish enough to cling to that, even when they'd both be better off without her? ]
[And... touching moment's over. He withdraws his arm to run his hand down his face. Please don't think he came here all eager to run the world's worst daycare or anything.]
Tch... Yeah, sounds like some kind of sick joke, doesn't it.
[He'd never been friendly even with the students who weren't in her class, even before Despair... he just was not a fan of teenagers, but the Incident only made it ten times worse.]
It's not like any of it was my idea! But since I'm stuck doing it, if you tag along one morning, I could show you a good hit if you show me how to keep those brats in line.
[Or come without learning anything, BUT PLEASE, HELP HIM. Even with what happened to Peony's last class, she was a fine teacher before that... barring getting banished to the Reserve Course for a while, but uh. Mal will continue ignoring that incident just like he did when as was actually happening APPARENTLY]
She still doesn't look at him, though, drawing herself up even smaller after a few seconds. But look, she's smiling! It's bright and it's steady so it must mean things are okay, right?
(Even someone who doesn't know her would know better than that.) ]
A...ah, I could do that. If you wanted that.
[ That would probably make it easier for him to keep an eye on her, right? Maybe she should do something -- now or then, or sometime in between -- to convince him to break this weird stasis. As much as part of her appreciates it, the rest of her is mentally clawing at the walls for something. It's not even the slow burn anticipation of when she'd been infected with Despair; she wants catharsis of some sort. Maybe if she pushes, it'll set them all free. ]
Mm. It might be fun!
[ She says it a little too brightly, a little too fake. It's the way she would talk sometimes when they were in the Future Foundation and he'd been grumbling about some assignment or other and she'd been the one to "comfort" him. ]
[It might be. It should be. But he can already tell that it's not going to be, for either of them. He should have just dropped the subject, honestly. Stopped talking all together. He prefers action over words, but even at that he's sure he would have just done something to screw everything up either way.
He watches her for a long moment, wondering if it would be better for both of them to just leave it. Keep pretending. He's so tired of playing pretend, though. Isn't she?]
...What's the matter? I was kidding, I don't expect you to waste your time on something like that.
I was just thinking how rare it is for Mallory to ask for my help. Usually he just tries to be so stoic on his own... mm, but there's a reason for that, isn't there?
[ Luna asked you to keep an eye on me.
Peony gets up, folding her arms behind her back as she takes a few steps away from the bed. Once she's far enough away, she spins on her heel to face him again, her smile gentle and warm. Ah. This is almost the way that Despair felt, that gentle coaxing compulsion to do the thing that would hurt the most, to say the words that feel like a knife through the ribs. ]
What gives... didn't they just have A Moment? Was it stupid to think that maybe it was a sign that things were going to be okay? He walked right into that set-up and he only has himself to blame. He's the one who's gotten soft over his time in Koriko. If she's going to act like she did during the end of the world, then so is he. He spent years closing himself off to her and Luna both in his self-made cage of regrets. He can do it again.
Never should have opened back up in the first place. He'll just do his job, look out for them from a distance, and that's that.
He clutches a fistful of bedsheets and turns his head away, not even bothering to mask his own dour expression.]
Do whatever you want. [He's got an eye on her, not a damn leash.] The only thing I am gonna ask you is that you don't... don't tell Luna.
[ She leans a little further down, to try and catch his eye even when he turns his head away. Her chest feels so tight that it's hard to breathe, but there's a point to this. There's a point. If she keeps telling herself that, maybe it'll start to feel like an actual good idea.
It has to be a good one, though. Anything that protects them from her has to be good, right? ]
About what? Your feelings?
[ As she says that, she slides a step closer, her expression going solemn. ]
[He does a pretty good job of focusing very intently on the far wall. It sure is fascinating, with its complete lack of decor and its plain off-white colour. Wow. Gorgeous.]
"Better" how? ...It's not like it matters.
[Better for her because Luna would finally push him away? Better for her that he hears it from Mal while they still can't completely trust her word? Is that really what she wants?]
Whatever. You don't have to worry about me doing anything.
[ Come on, Mallory, why aren't you getting it! Tell Luna your feelings so that she can disappear properly, like she should have long ago. ]
...it's not like he and I are really... mm, well. I think dying is a pretty good reason to break it off with someone, right? And after all...
[ Now she straightens up, which doesn't actually let her look down at him because of their height differences, but she does keep looking steadily at his face. Her expression is solemn now; the brief attempt at cheer has faded away into something more quiet and neutral. ]
Hnnh. It turns out death isn't the end after all. At least not here.
[Here in this place where all the logic he used to follow has been broken down completely and flushed down the toilet. He shrugs one shoulder dismissively, trying to take a lighter tone of voice.]
And if it was, then... all the more reason for me to back off.
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He glances back over to her at her approach, but he doesn't really pull away or anything. There's probably some stupid joke to be made about having a girl in his bed, but he's not really feeling it.]
Tch... Still soft on kids as ever, huh? [Unsurprising. He heaves a sigh and closes his eyes, his voice sounding a little resigned.] But you know, it's crueler to just let him chase after hopeless love like that.
[And also, probably more of a pain in the ass for everyone else in this room.]
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[ It's dismissive in its distraction; even if his eyes are closed, she's staring straight at him without blinking. When she speaks again, her voice is almost casual, like something she's just remembering to bring up in passing. ]
Besides, I think you'd be better at understanding a "hopeless love" than me.
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H-hah, what... I don't understand you sometimes.
[He's sweating, though.]
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[ Her voice is gentle, but almost without inflection. Like a very sharp knife, the words sound kind until things are left open and bleeding in their wake. ]
You and Luna. I've known for a while, now.
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Mal's bone-dry mouth opens, closes, opens again. Only a strained sound comes out at first as he tries to think of some diversion, but it's no good, is it? Why the hell is she bringing it up now if she's known for longer?
He finally forces himself to look right at her, searching her face for some kind of sign. Anger, or smug amusement, or even-
(Despair)
-something else. Anything that isn't this apparent calm before the storm. Just yell at him, slap him, cast him aside already. He deserves it.]
I'm-- It's not...
[There is no me and Luna. He grits his teeth and drops his gaze like a dog that's been caught in the trash.]
Shit...
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[ She folds her hands together in her lap. The gesture is relaxed enough at first glance, but her knuckles are white, and there's a faint, faint tremor in them. After a moment, she digs her nails into her own skin, letting that small physical pain keep her grounded. Now that he's looking back, she can't quite make herself meet his eyes; instead she fixes her gaze at a point on his cheek -- close, but not quite.
Her voice wavers a little as she speaks: the words come slowly at first, then faster, until they're a tangled rush: ]
I mean back in high school, I used to think, haha, it's a good thing that you weren't actually a rival, because I never worried about any of the other girls in our class or otherwise around us, I never worried about any of the women he met when he was abroad, but you...!
[ She takes a deep breath, chewing on the inside of her cheek for a few seconds. ]
But I always told myself, it's fine, he doesn't want that. He's not interested in anyone at all, so of course not Luna, and I--
[ Well. Fine. Now she lifts her eyes to his, solemn. ]
I realized I was right, but also that I was wrong. You were interested.
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[He remembers, vaguely, a time he almost gave himself away just to get it off his chest. Back then, the weight was so much lighter, but Peony misinterpreted his hint at a confession and so he locked it back down. If only he had any idea what kind of burden it would become shortly after.
He made his choice; whatever the consequences are now, they've been a long time coming. He can't outrun them anymore. He takes a deep breath in and holds it for a second before releasing it, slow and shaky. And then he repeats himself, a little more sternly.]
Yeah, you got me. I've... tried to get rid of that interest, see if I could pin it on someone else, but... [His brows knit together in agony.] Nobody came close. [She can at least understand that, he knows. He sits up and lets his head drop so he can rub at the back of his neck.]
So what?! I thought if I couldn't get rid of these feelings, at least I wouldn't act on them. I can't compete with what you guys have. And I don't want to take it away from you. [But he's done so much worse than that because of it, hasn't he?] ...If you hate me for it, just say so. I get it.
[I hate me, too.]
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[ She recoils a little at that, though she doesn't break the eye contact either. In her lap, her hands twitch, though she doesn't actually unclasp them. Yet.
Hate him? Him? The idea is so ridiculous that she can't actually figure out how to respond at first, which means the silence drags out uncomfortably long as she just stares. It's almost a full minute of it before she blurts it, because she's abruptly, uncomfortably aware of how this must look like to him, and once upon a time she would have enjoyed that agony, but now, now she can't-- ]
I don't! I never -- I would never. I--
[ No. No?? No, that's not right, that's not enough, and finally Peony forces herself to move, to unclasp her hands and make a grab for him, like she could somehow use contact to anchor them both. ]
Even when I was -- even "like that," I never hated you.
[ More like, she sometimes considered using his desire to orchestrate a scenario to break her own heart, for that despairing thrill, but something had always stopped her hand. And now, at least, she can appreciate that. ]
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But her voice turns those fangs to feathers and he starts at her touch. She doesn't hate him... Part of him knows he should have expected that from the start, but it's drowned out by the part that howls in fury, why? You should! At least justify his cowardice back then, or hate him for everything he allowed to happen, or something-!
Maybe having it rubbed in his face even more how much of a mistake he made is the better punishment.
And despite all that... Some of that weight that's been suffocating his heart finally eases off a little, and he swears he can physically feel it. His eyes are burning and as he squeezes them shut, he can feel moisture at the corners. Tears? Really? After all this time? No, he must be- he's just overtired- getting feverish from all the stress he's been under lately or something. A few ragged breaths of not-quite-laughter escape his lips.]
...Ah.
[He swallows down the lump in his throat and the corner of his mouth twists in what he isn't really sure is a smile.]
You really are too soft.
[It's really her.]
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[ Maybe he's not crying, but she is. They're not the theatrically dramatic tears she'd perfected over the years -- the ones that she can summon now on command: the picture of gentle grief and all without ruining her makeup. Instead, these tears are small and catch in her lashes as her face goes red. Her breath hiccups a little, and she wipes quickly at her eyes like that would be enough to actually hide them from him. ]
I, I don't want to hear you making fun of me when I should be mad at you...! How dare you think that?
[ How dare, she says, but her voice is small and wobbly, and she has to rub harder at her eyes with her arm now. Those old fake tears had been a lot easier to turn off than these real ones, and there's a part of her that's genuinely afraid he'll mistake them. As much as she hopes that he'll take the half-joke as it is, her grip on his hand shakes, ready to let go and pull back at the first sign of his disapproval or anger. ]
What were you thinking, worrying that I'd ever hate you...
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He turns his hand over in hers, hesitating for a second before pulling it away entirely. Because maybe it would be a better comfort right now to put that arm around her shoulders and pat her back a little in what he hopes is a soothing enough gesture.]
Hey, come on...! Yeah, I'm- I'm a big idiot. [Please don't cry over it aaaAAAAAHHH-] ...Sorry.
Do you... need a minute?
[Why can't she just vent her emotions by punching him instead? He could sit and take that a lot easier!]
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[ It's a disappointed noise when he pulls his hand away, though she repeats it again, more startled, when he puts his arm around her. What?? Whoa.
Because Peony has always liked physical contact, but she's always been uncertain of ever trying to initiate it with him. She's never doubted his friendship, but he's always been a prickly sort of man. The fact that he's doing this at all is weird, but -- if she's entirely honest -- it feels good.
So she slumps against him a little, raising one hand in a small fist and thumping it listlessly against his chest. Take that. And that! ]
Why are you apologizing to me, dummy...
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[Because there's so much he's done wrong. Not just to her and Luna, but everyone. Apologies can't take anything back, and they won't ease that guilt of his any. Where would he even start?
It's easier to just join in a good round of the Deflection Game. He rests his chin on top of her head (god she's tiny compared to him) and mumbles:]
...I'm sorry I never taught you how to throw a proper punch.
[What kind of weak-ass hits are those supposed to be. You're not even trying, Peony.]
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But after a few seconds she just lets her fist slide down his chest until it drops back into her lap, leaning harder against him. It feels a little wrong -- does he actually want this? even if he was the one who initiated it, he's always pushed himself harder than he should for her -- but at the same time, Peony finds herself extremely reluctant to pull back. Maybe it's okay to be a little selfish, just for a short while. For now, she can pretend he's just her friend and not her jailer too.
The comment gets a short watery laugh out of her before she turns her face against his chest, letting that muffle some of her words. ]
Aah, what if you had? I'd be dangerous.
[ Maybe Enoshima and her sister wouldn't have been able to catch her so easily. ]
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Weird, but nice.
A little less so when she reminds him that she's already plenty dangerous, isn't she? For a second a darkness clouds his mind over, and he conjures up the image of her hands in his lap, stained with the fresh blood running down the handle of a knife in their grip, and the pain of a recent wound twinges in his stomach and his back.
He does pull back a little, glancing down, but of course nothing's there. And he hates himself for doubting her, even now. But that's how Despair works, isn't it? Bringing out the worst in human beings. Turning them against even the people they love the most.]
...Good thing I'm not your enemy, then. [He's not fit to be much of a protector, either. Not even when he had both hands. It isn't smart to rely on only one or two things. He can still show her how to protect herself. (From him? If it comes to that? Which is the dumber move?)]
...You know... a bunch of kids here are already trying to pick it up from me.
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[ She'd pulled back when he had, wrapping her arms around herself and gripping her elbows. It's not exactly trying to draw away from the embrace as long as he has that arm over her shoulders, but she huddles up smaller against him, like she could simply fold in on herself and disappear entirely.
Wouldn't that be nice? It'd be easier, at least. Her existence alone has caused him trouble even before Despair was an issue. If she hadn't been here, then maybe he and Luna could have--
No. No thinking about that. Peony takes a deep breath and dredges up a shaky little smile. ]
Haha... look at you. You never liked my students, and now you're the teacher.
[ What she means is, you never liked them even before everything happened, but she's aware of how it sounds as soon as she says it, when it's too late to take back. A beat later, she turns her head away, fixing her gaze on a point on the other side of the room. Is this really the right thing to do? Being close to him, pretending like things are fine... is she really selfish enough to cling to that, even when they'd both be better off without her? ]
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Tch... Yeah, sounds like some kind of sick joke, doesn't it.
[He'd never been friendly even with the students who weren't in her class, even before Despair... he just was not a fan of teenagers, but the Incident only made it ten times worse.]
It's not like any of it was my idea! But since I'm stuck doing it, if you tag along one morning, I could show you a good hit if you show me how to keep those brats in line.
[Or come without learning anything, BUT PLEASE, HELP HIM. Even with what happened to Peony's last class, she was a fine teacher before that... barring getting banished to the Reserve Course for a while, but uh. Mal will continue ignoring that incident
just like he did when as was actually happening APPARENTLY]no subject
What sort of Head of Security were you jesus.She still doesn't look at him, though, drawing herself up even smaller after a few seconds. But look, she's smiling! It's bright and it's steady so it must mean things are okay, right?
(Even someone who doesn't know her would know better than that.) ]
A...ah, I could do that. If you wanted that.
[ That would probably make it easier for him to keep an eye on her, right? Maybe she should do something -- now or then, or sometime in between -- to convince him to break this weird stasis. As much as part of her appreciates it, the rest of her is mentally clawing at the walls for something. It's not even the slow burn anticipation of when she'd been infected with Despair; she wants catharsis of some sort. Maybe if she pushes, it'll set them all free. ]
Mm. It might be fun!
[ She says it a little too brightly, a little too fake. It's the way she would talk sometimes when they were in the Future Foundation and he'd been grumbling about some assignment or other and she'd been the one to "comfort" him. ]
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He watches her for a long moment, wondering if it would be better for both of them to just leave it. Keep pretending. He's so tired of playing pretend, though. Isn't she?]
...What's the matter? I was kidding, I don't expect you to waste your time on something like that.
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[ Everything's wrong. ]
I was just thinking how rare it is for Mallory to ask for my help. Usually he just tries to be so stoic on his own... mm, but there's a reason for that, isn't there?
[ Luna asked you to keep an eye on me.
Peony gets up, folding her arms behind her back as she takes a few steps away from the bed. Once she's far enough away, she spins on her heel to face him again, her smile gentle and warm. Ah. This is almost the way that Despair felt, that gentle coaxing compulsion to do the thing that would hurt the most, to say the words that feel like a knife through the ribs. ]
It's better if I go too, isn't it?
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What gives... didn't they just have A Moment? Was it stupid to think that maybe it was a sign that things were going to be okay? He walked right into that set-up and he only has himself to blame. He's the one who's gotten soft over his time in Koriko. If she's going to act like she did during the end of the world, then so is he. He spent years closing himself off to her and Luna both in his self-made cage of regrets. He can do it again.
Never should have opened back up in the first place. He'll just do his job, look out for them from a distance, and that's that.
He clutches a fistful of bedsheets and turns his head away, not even bothering to mask his own dour expression.]
Do whatever you want. [He's got an eye on her, not a damn leash.] The only thing I am gonna ask you is that you don't... don't tell Luna.
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[ She leans a little further down, to try and catch his eye even when he turns his head away. Her chest feels so tight that it's hard to breathe, but there's a point to this. There's a point. If she keeps telling herself that, maybe it'll start to feel like an actual good idea.
It has to be a good one, though. Anything that protects them from her has to be good, right? ]
About what? Your feelings?
[ As she says that, she slides a step closer, her expression going solemn. ]
I won't. It'd be better if you told him yourself.
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"Better" how? ...It's not like it matters.
[Better for her because Luna would finally push him away? Better for her that he hears it from Mal while they still can't completely trust her word? Is that really what she wants?]
Whatever. You don't have to worry about me doing anything.
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[ Come on, Mallory, why aren't you getting it! Tell Luna your feelings so that she can disappear properly, like she should have long ago. ]
...it's not like he and I are really... mm, well. I think dying is a pretty good reason to break it off with someone, right? And after all...
[ Now she straightens up, which doesn't actually let her look down at him because of their height differences, but she does keep looking steadily at his face. Her expression is solemn now; the brief attempt at cheer has faded away into something more quiet and neutral. ]
I died long before that killing game, didn't I?
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[Here in this place where all the logic he used to follow has been broken down completely and flushed down the toilet. He shrugs one shoulder dismissively, trying to take a lighter tone of voice.]
And if it was, then... all the more reason for me to back off.
[Why the hell is she pushing this?]
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