handelaar | not here.

[That twitching half-smile breaks into a full one at that, because even if this is still awkward as hell it's not so messed up that he won't accept it. It could be better, sure, but it could be a lot worse. So she moves closer, wheels the bike over to him because for some reason it's important to her that this is her giving it rather than him taking it, and huffs a laugh.]

I'm glad. Thought you could use something fun.

[She tilts it towards him - here, take it - and gives a tiny nod of encouragement.]

This isn't a test. In case you were wondering. We started it way back.

[Before everything turned to shit, but that doesn't need saying. She wants him to take it and have fun and be happy, not feel bad over what's happened.]

[Could use something fun and for some reason that's just as painful as every new thing he scrawls over Takeshi's tank. Or maybe it's because she needs to elaborate. Either way he hates just how much he wants it, and even as he grabs at it he looks up and if that doesn't pause the proceedings.]

Hey.

[And then after that he's not sure where to go, though he knows it's. Somewhere. So he nods down to the couch and sorts through all the ways he could start this out. But mostly he just wants to know that she doesn't think he'll pull anything on her.]

Hey.

[She laughs, doesn't even hesitate when he motions to the couch because if there was any way she could be sure he wanted it, any way she could make sure he was in control of his own feelings she'd already be on there, curling her arms around him and kissing his cheek and urging him to take it for a spin even as she held him where he was. She does none of that, just settles on the couch turned towards him - one leg folded up under her, one elbow propped on the back so she can rest her head on her hand.

Still, he looks... troubled. And she doesn't want that, that's the opposite of what this was for, so she fills the empty air with a little babble. Bike talk, right, that's easy.]

Go easy on the tires if you can, they were a total bitch. But I got to learn to weld.

[And when she laughs his eyes go right back to the floor again, even as his knuckles go white over the frame. It's funny, it's not, he has no idea how to feel at the moment other than messed up and sloppy even as he tries to refrain from demonstrating it. The couch sinks at his side and he wants it, that bratty laugh and the ability to lean against her without having to worry on it. Just comfortable, and he hates that they aren't.]

Yeah?

[Not that he's not interested. He's very interested. He's also very nervous and while her babble doesn't hurt, it doesn't help, either. This started out with hey and he wants to continue it.]

Thank you.

[Almost inaudible, and he's gripping the bike and staring at their feet and clenching his jaw even as he tries to come up with something more meaningful than thank you.]

You're welcome.

[A shrug, and then quiet. He's so tense, and the urge to ease that doesn't go away but even as unsure of things as she is now, it's clear enough that he's working up to something. So she bites the inside of her cheek to keep quiet, tucks her free hand under her thigh to keep from reaching out. Turns her head just enough that she's not looking right at him, because maybe if her eyes are on the garden around them instead of his face he'll feel less studied, more able to speak. And maybe if she's not looking at the tension in his jaw she'll stop wanting to run her fingers over it until it loosens, see if she can't coax a smile out of him.]

[This is a horrible time to get hit with a mack truck of what amounts to all the sort of breakup or whatever feelings he's been deliberately Not Addressing, but that's what has been happening for most of the conversation, and he knows he shouldn't be dwelling on it - he'd like that initial gleeful euphoria to bubble back - but the more he thinks about how he's fucking this up the worse it gets.

So when he looks over, eyes still halfway lowered and ready to dart away, only to see that she's not, he blurts out the first thing that he thinks, which is]

Still wanna kiss ya.

[not what he meant to say, and as soon as it's out he pulls the facial equivalent of "oh shit". But it's. True... so he just stays frozen, like he's waiting for her to punch him for that.]

I want you to.

[It's not really a fair thing to say, and when she looks back at him there's an apology for that in her eyes. There's still a part of her that could just kick him for saying that instead of just doing it, because if he'd kissed her all she'd have to do is not stop him. But when he phrases it like that it makes her responsible, refocuses the grays into stark black and white.]

I just - with everything that mask did to you [and she spits the word like a curse, like it's bitter in her mouth] I can't tell where you stop and it starts. And I don't want it if it's not real. If I take that from you when you're like this, then I'm no better than -

[Stanley, she's thinking, but she lets it trail off because she really doesn't want to have to explain who he was, least of all now. Almost funny, that even with all of his age and experience she's worried about taking advantage of him. She'd laugh, if it didn't hurt so much.]

[The last time he hugged her he couldn't let go, there's no way he's kissing her without warning. Though he doesn't move, his brows knit and he gets a little confused frown because if he wants to and she wants to then why aren't they, but her apologetic look keeps him quiet for long enough for her to explain it. And while he doesn't flinch at how she says it he tenses up enough for his knuckles gripping the bike to go white and back.

Then they go white and stay that way while he chews on his lip and nods. There's one big problem with that logic, but it's a big worry of his, too, so when he says it he has to drag it out of himself.]

What if I don't - [He sighs and shifts, wants to lean into her and almost does only to change it at the last second and sort of curl into himself, one hand tapping along the bike. Because, nope, still hasn't let it go.] What if I stay. Like this.

[Because maybe it's not a when you're like this. It might be pessimism but he's pretty sure the phrase should be you're like this now.]

Edited (typo) 2012-12-29 05:22 (UTC)

You won't. You won't.

[Maybe she doesn't know that for sure, maybe in the bigger picture that means nothing, but it at least sounds like truth because she believes it. Means it like she's meant very little else in her life. Her resolve breaks and her hand comes out from under her face to cup his, curve along the line of his jaw.]

Everything you've seen, everything you've been through, you think some dumb mask's gonna beat you? No. You're gonna beat this. And I'm gonna help. Whatever you need.

[It's true. It's got to be. She can't accept the fact that it might not be.]

[Again, he frowns, because he's never been anything close to an optimist and he really doesn't believe it even if it sounds like she does. And of course with that first touch he leans right into it, tilts his head and almost slumps into it, eyes carefully watching her as she speaks. She seems so sure, and he definitely isn't - the mask itself might not but a year of constant stress and loss and literally missing part of himself - he wonders if she even knows why he asked for the half-hour but as soon as he thinks it she says that and it's immediately shoved aside.]

Told ya not to say that.

[It's almost a whisper into her hand, but instead of casting his eyes down like the first time she offered whatever he needed he keeps them on her like he's sizing her up.]

[Ouch. It hurts that he remembers. Easier to tell herself that whole thing was all the mask giving her what she wanted so it could take something in return, because then there's no hope to cling to. Just a friend who needs her help. She tells herself it doesn't mean anything -- after all, doesn't she remember everything the demon did in her skin? -- and thumbs over his cheek, holds her head up, holds his gaze. Blinks fast, and at least the tears that she's pretending aren't forming don't actually fall.]

And I told you you don't get to tell me what to do.

[And that includes believing in him with everything she's got.]

[Oh, fuck, at this point he knows what that blinking means because he's seen it on her before. It's. Really, really difficult not to reach up to grab her hand, or turn in to kiss it, or pull her close but he can't decide if that'll make her feel worse or better, and he doesn't want to ask because that means acknowledging it.]

Mm, yeah.

[And then she kissed him and he never got around to explaining. His eyes go down to her mouth, there's a hard swallow, his eyes go back up to meet hers.]

Always been too greedy, though.

[Things, people, money, whatever he can get. It's her third warning and part of him doesn't even want to give her that, but it's easy to ignore when she's right here looking like she's about to cry on him.]

[She sees his eyes drop to her mouth, sees that swallow, and wets her lips without thinking. It would be easy just to lean in, close that distance between them and kiss him. He'd let her, she's sure. Maybe they could even get back to what she'd thought this was going to be after she got back, and she could justify that to herself. Dress it up as giving him comfort in a difficult time. Maybe, just maybe, she could live with herself if he came out of this and it turned out that wasn't what he'd wanted at all.

And maybe if she did all of that she'd be a worse person than he ever was, mask or none.]

Like this? Has it been like this before?

Not with - things.

[Or at least never to the point where he physically couldn't let something go. People though, it used to be even worse. Or maybe it's just because they were countries and it was possible to have them be yours and was possible to cling and claw and fight to keep them. But he's not exactly sure how to explain it in a way that. Well. Doesn't make him look awful, but that's kind of the point he's trying to make, huh. Even so he picks the example that doesn't involve a colony, though it's the most cringeworthy one.]

I, uh. Took nine years to acknowledge that Bel wasn't - that she broke away.

[Yeahhhh. Still leaning into her hand, but definitely not meeting her eyes anymore.]

[She. Doesn't know how to take that. It sounds scary as hell, but nine years is pretty close on half her life. Is it different for nations? Does that amount of time seem shorter when there's so much more? So for a long beat she just watches him, keeps her hand soft against his face.]

I can't pretend I know what that means. I don't get a lot of that stuff, I just don't have anything to compare it to. But I do for you. And I know that things only changed between us after the masks arrived.

[A pause, there, and a tense little inhale because this exactly what she's been trying to avoid having to say.]

I'm not scared you won't let me go. I'm scared you'll get better and wonder why the hell you let me in in the first place.

Ah -

[He's not sure how to explain it but then there's a lot more to be confused about anyway, and for a moment he meets her eyes and lets it flicker there, doesn't get why she's worried about him letting her go when he's attempted to say over and over that he really sucks at that. And that doesn't even make sense, the more he thinks about it. Yeah, things changed - he started avoiding her - so if he got better wouldn't he. Not... avoid her.

Goddamn. There's a huff of pure frustration but figuring out how to word all of that is hard, and doing it well might just be impossible. So all he does is send her a fiercely serious look and grab her hand to keep it where it is.]

I won't.

[Won't wonder about it, yeah, but for all he knows he might never get better either and that's something she - should know, and that's not telling her what to do, is it.]

[He still doesn't get it. She can tell just by looking at his face and it occurs to her that she ought to ask when he first put the mask on, point out that he can't really trust anything he did after, but then he goes and clasps one huge hand over hers. Looks at her like that, speaks like that and in that moment she wants nothing more than to believe him. And that's what Christmas is about, isn't it? Believing because you want to, no matter what the evidence says.

He got a bike. She should get something too, even if it's not for keeps. So she blinks hard again and when she leans in it's a tentative and stuttering sort of motion, but it happens. Pushes her way closer through every reason she can think of not to until her lips brush against his.]

[That's enough to get his hand off the bike, easy, because he doesn't want to tear her hand away from his face but he does want to touch hers as she kisses him. Or maybe it's him kissing her, because just that one brush is enough to have his eyes fluttering closed as he suddenly leans forward and his hand moves to grip her chin, keep her there - ]

Shit -

[Only to open his eyes and snatch that hand back to himself even as he keeps close enough to nose at her, worried over how controlling that got and that quickly.]

Are ya, uh.

[Okay, but that sounds stupid.]

[The sound she makes isn't quite a whimper. Just a pained little catch in her throat when he jerks his hand away, and it ought to be because she feels guilty for forcing that reaction out of him, but it's not. She can't make herself pull away so she lowers her face instead, drops her eyes.]

Wish you hadn't stopped. Messed up, I know. Sorry.

[She swallows hard, nudges at his face with hers. Figures she owes him an explanation, even if it sucks.]

See, this is why I've been avoiding you. When I'm alone I'm so sure I can be an adult about this and just talk to you and try to help, and then when I see you I just want everything to be like it was. I wanna - sit on your floor and play with Lodewijk and listen to you go off on a tear about whoever's being a dumbass today. Want you to glare at me when I start laughing about it. I wanna know that if I decide to be a smartass and try and kiss my way out of it you're kissing me back because you want to, not because you're so messed up you can't not.

[Well now that she says that he wishes he hadn't stopped, either, but there's no way for him to tell if it happened because he was taken off guard, and for that matter if that was the worst of it. And if they'd kept going - he'd kept going - and it kept building, and then he found that he couldn't stop? Better to be cautious about it. But he doesn't think it's messed up of her to want it and gives his head a tiny shake, no, don't be sorry about it.

And pulls back enough to watch when she keeps going, even if she won't look at him, watches the way her eyelids move and tries to guess at what's happening behind them.
Hates that make her look is a thought that won't go away just as much as he hates that she won't on her own.
Almost does reach out to jerk her chin up and make her look at him but all he does is curl his fingers in against hers and huffs, spits out two different thoughts at once.]

Don't - that's stupid. [Immediately he gives his head a shake and starts over.] Not that you wanna do that stuff, I mean. Just. Uh. That ya think I don't...

[By the end he sounds a little lost and a lot put out. How is that not obvious. He thought it was obvious. Hell, he'd been kissing her for months and months before the masks came around and then some.]

[Stupid, he says, and before he elaborates that actually gets half a laugh out of her. Jerk. But he continues and she wants so badly to lean in to him, put her head on his shoulder. Shakes her head instead, drags her free hand through her hair and finally meets his eyes.]

Yes doesn't count for much if you can't say no. And hell, it's not like you're ever in your room for me to come and annoy you there these days anyway.

[Okay, Mason, man up. She squeezes his hand, keeps looking him in the eyes because if she doesn't know that he'll see it in her face it'll be too easy to chicken out, say something else instead.]

That night I got back was... I mean, it wasn't something I'd really thought about 'cause I didn't think you'd be interested, but as soon as it happened I knew I wanted it. And then you didn't want to be around me at all and it just felt so bad. I really don't wanna do that again.

[Goddamnit he'd never say no, mask or not, most of the time doesn't even say no if he doesn't give a damn about the person and his expression is edging toward a genuinely upset sort of irritation until she looks at him. It doesn't leave, but it doesn't get worse as she goes on and a slight curiosity filters in, just tiny twitches of his mouth and narrowing of his eyes. He kind of tilts his head and kind of ducks it, both movements a little too slight for them to be bashful - more like he's literally trying to see what she's saying with a better angle.

After a moment he realizes he's half-staring at her while he sorts through his thoughts and focuses, slightly, one thumb rubbing over her hand like it'll reassure her while he chooses where to start with that.]

I - [Huff.] Didn't wanna be around anyone. Kinda. Only wanted to...

[He trails off and shrugs with the shoulder not attached to the hand gripping her. Only wanted to be around the people his mask showed him.]

Got real damn paranoid about everyone - [Not else, because that lumps her in with the everyone else and that's not true and he already told her that. And also because they weren't real, and she is] - here.

[A beat where he tries to explain, but showing is always easier and the next moment has him pulling out his tiny bottle of pills. Though he doesn't let go of the bottle. Just holds it up.]

[Her eyes flick from his face to the bottle and back, a little oh of recognition curling up from her throat as it clicks into place. The stroking of his thumb is a comfort but her hand's been on his face for what feels like a very long time so she lowers it, slowly, keeping hold of his hand as she does.]

Arm's getting tired.

[Not because she doesn't want to be touching him, and she hopes that comes across. Rests her hand on her knee with his on top of it and traces little fingertip circles over his knuckles with her other hand.]

Guess that explains going from one extreme to the other like that. And I'm glad. It's good you got help.

[A pause, then, because even with the minor stuff she sometimes worries he'll mistake concern for pity and have a tantrum, but she's not so worried she won't ask.]

Are you seeing someone?

[There's a little nod of acceptance when she says that and doesn't pull her hand away from his, though even if she tried to he'd, well, try to let it happen. He still watches as she trails her fingers over his hand, nods along again, trying to figure out how it must've been from the other side of the wreck. Probably something like whiplash except three times over, and once again there's that guilty shameful feeling that claws at his chest and sinks his shoulders.]

Seeing someone.

[Listlessly repeated but then he actually hears it and flicks his eyes up to meet hers, question in it. Seeing someone? Though regardless of what she means - seeing people from the mask, getting help, in an alliance or dating or whatever - the answer is no. So he shakes his head.]

[Frown. That's not good, and part of her wants to ask which asshole in medbay decided it was enough to throw pills at him and leave it at that - doctors, she fucking hates them - but that's really not the point. Moving her hand over his seems a safe enough kind of contact for now, so she just... keeps doing it as she talks.]

Hn. I know there must have been some pretty big advances, but back in my day - [and yes, she's aware of how silly that sounds, which is exactly whey she says it with such a tone of self-mockery] - they were all about how it wasn't enough just to take the medication, you had to work through it too. Therapy and shit.

[Not that it's always shit. It's probably a lot more helpful if you don't have to lie.]

NEVER I GUESS lesson learned

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