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[evocation]

@kyna.medina | ■ ▲ ◌ ▼

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[withmeinparadise]

You don't gotta be. Sure, it sucked, but I came out okay.

[evocation]

You say that about everything.

[Which means she knows it's a deflection tactic. She sighs, her voice softening.]

I care about you, you know? You can talk to me.

[withmeinparadise]

Because it's true.

[ Especially if you're a filthy liar. He gives her one of those crooked smiles of his. ]

I'm not exactly on the verge of a nervous breakdown here.

[evocation]

[Alas, Kyna is not charmed.]

You're not okay about everything all the time, Sam, even if you want me to think you are.

[withmeinparadise]

[ what's EVEN the point if his charming smiles don't even WORK ]

Why d'you wanna talk about it so bad, anyway?

[evocation]

Because. We're friends, right? I don't want you... you know. Bottling it up.

[withmeinparadise]

Why not? S'not like talking about it's gonna make a difference.

[ It already happened--all that's left is picking up the pieces and moving on. ]

[evocation]

You're totally doing the emotional constipation thing.

[withmeinparadise]

Pretty sure that ain't a thing.

[evocation]

What?

[She sounds utterly incredulous.]

It's totally a thing. I do it too.

[withmeinparadise]

All right, tell me about your emotional constipation. You get Ex-Lax for it?

[evocation]

[Kyna lets out a long, over dramatic sigh.]

I'm gonna kick your ass, Sam.

[withmeinparadise]

Let's not and say we did. I got enough of that back in the Aerie.

[evocation]

What do you mean? What happened?

[withmeinparadise]

Eh, got my face rearranged a little. [ He wrinkles his nose gingerly. ] Looked a lot worse when it happened.

[evocation]

Oh my God, Sam. How?

[withmeinparadise]

You, uh, remember the Shrikes? [ at least he kind of looks sheepish. ] Mighta gotten into it with one of them.

[evocation]

[Oh no.]

Which one? Why?

[withmeinparadise]

Didn't know the guy before this. Burton or, uh--something like that. It's fine, everything healed.

[ Sort of. He waves a hand vaguely, like the subject itself needs brushing off. ]

[evocation]

Amos?

[She's quiet for a second, nose wrinkling, and then, awkwardly:]

I, uh... punched him in the face.

[withmeinparadise]

That's the one. How'd he, uh, take it?

[evocation]

Uh... He was mad, but he didn't do anything about it. He was being an asshole, so...

[So she was justified!]

[withmeinparadise]

Sounds like he let us both off easy.

[evocation]

Maybe.

[She offers him her hand, wiggling her fingers. Let her care about you, jerk.]

[withmeinparadise]

[ He doesn't want to take it. All they're doing is opening a can of worms he has no desire to deal with--here, with her, or with anyone else. Some feelings, you just lie down in the dark somewhere and wait for them to pass, or walk it off until you really are fine.

But goddamn if he wants to waste an opportunity to touch Kyna. And some part of him, the part that lives with pain and loss and loneliness, fear and anger, but never loves any of it...maybe he wants this to be a burden shared. Even if he can't admit it to her. Even if he can't admit it to himself.

Before he reaches out, he fixes her with a look. ]

We're not watching that fight.

[ Mostly because he lost, and he lost badly. Even an echo of it, maybe with the echo of what it felt like to have everything in his life jump the rails--that's more than he wants her to know. More than he wants to remember right about now. It's still a fresh wound.

And then, fool that he is, he takes her hand in his. His hand's callused again--he hadn't noticed in the other world, hadn't had reason to, that his palms and fingertips were softer there. Hers is...not delicate, exactly, but smaller and fine-boned and warm, and if anyone walks out here and finds them like this, it'll kill him.

Everything in there, it's still the same, but there's an added sort of guardedness as well--like he's tensed to spring away if he needs to. ]