The tenderness hits good. The softer touches. Ellie can feel something in her relax. There's no forcing this. There's no doing the right thing all the time. They are just people, trying be.
Ellie tries again for a smile, and doesn't quite get there, so she stops trying.
"It's dumb," she admits, letting her eyes fall mostly shut. Or maybe it's not dumb, but to her own ears, it's sure going to sound like it is.
"I thought... you might- feel the same way. Or if you weren't there yet, maybe happy about it." Ellie shrugs one shoulder. "I thought it would be- friendship, but maybe more romantic than that. And yeah, going to bed together, but. With kissing, and holding hands, and- dancing. Sometimes."
She chokes on the last word, just a little. Embarrassment that she fights back, so she won't choke up completely. She's so quick to make fun of others for being sappy, but. In her heart of hearts, Ellie does want that. The closeness, the obvious caring. That enduring sort of love.
"And I figured you'd have other people, and maybe I would too, when I got there. And maybe it wouldn't be a future with us settling down or anything. But- we'd do our own things. And always find our way back."
And maybe that all sounds like friendship, of a sort. But she honestly can't say that she knows where the line is. What kind of closeness the both of them crave, what's too much.
A silent shake of her head at it's dumb, fingers tapping softly at Ellie's cheek in denial. No, it's not foolish.
"I don't know if I feel the same way."
Soft. Honest. Does that mean she doesn't care deeply for Ellie? No. But love has always felt like something bigger to her. Love the way Ellie means, the way others have described, always feels as if it should be set apart from the way she cares for Ellie now, the love that is so intrinsic to that affection.
But beyond that—
"I do like that. Everything you described."
It feels like an arrangement that leaves room for Derrica to breathe. Better for the idea that maybe Ellie would have someone else as well, that there would be more for her than just Derrica.
"It just worries me. That what I feel isn't going to be enough, even if we could have everything else."
Derrica's fingers on her cheek ease her back in, the little tap of no, stop that.
It hurts. There's no way to escape it hurting, when you care about somebody and they don't feel the same. But that hurt can pass, or it can turn into something rubbed raw and bitter, and the longing can ease, or it can turn into resentment.
It's what they're both afraid of, and rightfully so. They're only people, and nobody's perfect.
"Yeah. And I guess that worry is what I'm worried about," Ellie mumbles. "Like, can you be happy with what we've got without second-guessing yourself all the time because you're trying so hard not to hurt me? Can I do that? Are we gonna... I dunno. Psyche ourselves out?"
Ellie drops that, though, and runs her thumb along Derrica's palm, turning her hands again. This habit of theirs, worry stones.
"How did you think it was gonna be? If you thought about it at all."
A strange question, if only because Derrica has no frame of reference at all from which to draw on.
What changes? She never thinks of such things for herself. So little has changed for her and Kostos, So much has changed between her and Loxley. The shape of these things is so mutable.
But she does give it due thought. Considering the formless sense of pleasure at the kind of connection Ellie's describing, that they've talked around so carefully before now, she finds herself without any more concrete thought than—
"I think it's something we decide on together," she says softly. "I've never thought of the future, not this way, but what I imagine about the present isn't so far off from what you've said."
All thoughts of the future are so consumed with what waits for mages and rifters on the other side of this war. And it feels so vast, thinking that far ahead of them.
"I don't know that we can't try. But slowly," is the caveat. "to see if it suits us. If they way we want to go forward can work if we try it together."
So much of what Ellie's said, they're already doing. So many times they've been close, but danced around the subject. Flirting that got a little too serious to be laughed off. A closed door, or that time in the garden, outside the ring of dancers, where Ellie had confessed to not being ready.
Part of it was just- being close to Derrica. She's intimate with her friends, touches often. She treats her the same now as she did when they began, though with less hesitation. But looking back on it, she can see a lot of things that felt like more.
Ellie nods slowly, spooling it out between her hands.
"So... what we have now," Ellie says, for clarity's sake. "And just add in whatever we both want, whenever it happens."
And then, because she has to: "Is there anything I've done that you- wanna put the brakes on?"
The only thing that comes so immediately to mind is Love me a little less than you do.
But that's something unfair to ask. Derrica knows it's rooted in fear, or self-preservation, and it's not necessarily about Ellie at all. So she casts about for a variation, trying to think what she might ask that is reasonable.
"I want you to protect your heart," feels in the ballpark of reasonable. "I can't say there's anything I want you to stop, just that I want us to be honest with each other."
Including honesty about when they might have to stop. Honest about wanting more.
Ellie nods, the motion a tiny rub against Derrica's forehead. Closed eyes, while the two of them rock in this, rise with the tide.
She sniffs once, thickly, knows what's coming.
Fuck, but tonight's gonna suck.
"Honestly," she says, swallowing hard, "I kinda need some space, I think. Just for a few days. Some time to get my head right."
As she says it, she closes her fingers around Derrica's hand, just to squeeze reassuringly. Some time to process. To feel whatever bullshit she needs to feel, because there's sure to be some.
Of course it is. It's what Derrica had asked, isn't it? For Ellie to say such things, ask when she needs them.
When she kisses Ellie this time, it's just as gentle. But brief, a brush of lips before Derrica sits back slightly. It's only to create a little space, acknowledge what Ellie's asked for.
She doesn't need to tell her again: of course, Ellie can change her mind too.
The kiss is there and gone, so soft and brief that it's just a lingering warmth before Ellie can properly decide how to feel about it. Both a reassurance and a sting.
The sting, she feels now. The reassurance will grow stronger, later, when she's rearranging all the pieces inside herself. It'll be warmth, and a cracked-open door. A reminder of what they haven't lost.
"Yeah," Ellie whispers back, and it's rough around the edges. She squeezes Derrica's hands again, makes herself look her in the eyes properly. Her color's high, her eyes a little bit shiny.
"I feel like shit right now," she says, and it hurts even coming out of her mouth. She holds the words on her jaw for a second before she lets them out, measuring each one.
"But. I'd have really felt like shit if you'd said yes. And then I found out it wasn't want you wanted."
The right thing to do is let Ellie go. Process and settle this discussion without Derrica watching her, exacerbating whatever hurt she's carrying. Her grip loosens on Ellie's hands, but doesn't quite break, Derrica's face tipped up to watch Ellie's expression as she gets to her feet.
"Thank you for thinking of me," is a soft offering in return. "For asking me."
When it would have been so easy for Ellie to have glossed over any part of what Derrica thought or wanted.
"Don't be a stranger?"
Regardless of what decisions Ellie makes, what outcome she arrives at after this conversation settles in her mind.
Ellie knows it hurts for Derrica to be the source of any pain, and she wishes that she could let her in, for this. Could let her try to fix Ellie's hurts, to heal her with her own hands. She knows how important it is to her that leave things better than she left them.
But this is one thing that she just can't, neither of them can.
(She wishes it didn't feel like a betrayal, even if that's not a logical thought.)
Shaking her head, Ellie squeezes her fingers back, brings both of her hands up; leans forward to kiss her knuckles. It's light but warm, and hopefully that'll lessen the blow of pulling away.
"Okay," she manages, before her throat closes, and she leaves before she can reach the breaking point of the pressure in her chest.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Ellie tries again for a smile, and doesn't quite get there, so she stops trying.
"It's dumb," she admits, letting her eyes fall mostly shut. Or maybe it's not dumb, but to her own ears, it's sure going to sound like it is.
"I thought... you might- feel the same way. Or if you weren't there yet, maybe happy about it." Ellie shrugs one shoulder. "I thought it would be- friendship, but maybe more romantic than that. And yeah, going to bed together, but. With kissing, and holding hands, and- dancing. Sometimes."
She chokes on the last word, just a little. Embarrassment that she fights back, so she won't choke up completely. She's so quick to make fun of others for being sappy, but. In her heart of hearts, Ellie does want that. The closeness, the obvious caring. That enduring sort of love.
"And I figured you'd have other people, and maybe I would too, when I got there. And maybe it wouldn't be a future with us settling down or anything. But- we'd do our own things. And always find our way back."
And maybe that all sounds like friendship, of a sort. But she honestly can't say that she knows where the line is. What kind of closeness the both of them crave, what's too much.
no subject
"I don't know if I feel the same way."
Soft. Honest. Does that mean she doesn't care deeply for Ellie? No. But love has always felt like something bigger to her. Love the way Ellie means, the way others have described, always feels as if it should be set apart from the way she cares for Ellie now, the love that is so intrinsic to that affection.
But beyond that—
"I do like that. Everything you described."
It feels like an arrangement that leaves room for Derrica to breathe. Better for the idea that maybe Ellie would have someone else as well, that there would be more for her than just Derrica.
"It just worries me. That what I feel isn't going to be enough, even if we could have everything else."
no subject
It hurts. There's no way to escape it hurting, when you care about somebody and they don't feel the same. But that hurt can pass, or it can turn into something rubbed raw and bitter, and the longing can ease, or it can turn into resentment.
It's what they're both afraid of, and rightfully so. They're only people, and nobody's perfect.
"Yeah. And I guess that worry is what I'm worried about," Ellie mumbles. "Like, can you be happy with what we've got without second-guessing yourself all the time because you're trying so hard not to hurt me? Can I do that? Are we gonna... I dunno. Psyche ourselves out?"
Ellie drops that, though, and runs her thumb along Derrica's palm, turning her hands again. This habit of theirs, worry stones.
"How did you think it was gonna be? If you thought about it at all."
no subject
What changes? She never thinks of such things for herself. So little has changed for her and Kostos, So much has changed between her and Loxley. The shape of these things is so mutable.
But she does give it due thought. Considering the formless sense of pleasure at the kind of connection Ellie's describing, that they've talked around so carefully before now, she finds herself without any more concrete thought than—
"I think it's something we decide on together," she says softly. "I've never thought of the future, not this way, but what I imagine about the present isn't so far off from what you've said."
All thoughts of the future are so consumed with what waits for mages and rifters on the other side of this war. And it feels so vast, thinking that far ahead of them.
"I don't know that we can't try. But slowly," is the caveat. "to see if it suits us. If they way we want to go forward can work if we try it together."
no subject
Part of it was just- being close to Derrica. She's intimate with her friends, touches often. She treats her the same now as she did when they began, though with less hesitation. But looking back on it, she can see a lot of things that felt like more.
Ellie nods slowly, spooling it out between her hands.
"So... what we have now," Ellie says, for clarity's sake. "And just add in whatever we both want, whenever it happens."
And then, because she has to: "Is there anything I've done that you- wanna put the brakes on?"
no subject
But that's something unfair to ask. Derrica knows it's rooted in fear, or self-preservation, and it's not necessarily about Ellie at all. So she casts about for a variation, trying to think what she might ask that is reasonable.
"I want you to protect your heart," feels in the ballpark of reasonable. "I can't say there's anything I want you to stop, just that I want us to be honest with each other."
Including honesty about when they might have to stop. Honest about wanting more.
no subject
She sniffs once, thickly, knows what's coming.
Fuck, but tonight's gonna suck.
"Honestly," she says, swallowing hard, "I kinda need some space, I think. Just for a few days. Some time to get my head right."
As she says it, she closes her fingers around Derrica's hand, just to squeeze reassuringly. Some time to process. To feel whatever bullshit she needs to feel, because there's sure to be some.
"Okay?"
no subject
Of course it is. It's what Derrica had asked, isn't it? For Ellie to say such things, ask when she needs them.
When she kisses Ellie this time, it's just as gentle. But brief, a brush of lips before Derrica sits back slightly. It's only to create a little space, acknowledge what Ellie's asked for.
She doesn't need to tell her again: of course, Ellie can change her mind too.
"You know where to find me when you're ready."
no subject
The sting, she feels now. The reassurance will grow stronger, later, when she's rearranging all the pieces inside herself. It'll be warmth, and a cracked-open door. A reminder of what they haven't lost.
"Yeah," Ellie whispers back, and it's rough around the edges. She squeezes Derrica's hands again, makes herself look her in the eyes properly. Her color's high, her eyes a little bit shiny.
"I feel like shit right now," she says, and it hurts even coming out of her mouth. She holds the words on her jaw for a second before she lets them out, measuring each one.
"But. I'd have really felt like shit if you'd said yes. And then I found out it wasn't want you wanted."
She squeezes once, hard, and gets to her feet.
are we approaching bow territory
"Thank you for thinking of me," is a soft offering in return. "For asking me."
When it would have been so easy for Ellie to have glossed over any part of what Derrica thought or wanted.
"Don't be a stranger?"
Regardless of what decisions Ellie makes, what outcome she arrives at after this conversation settles in her mind.
yes ;;
But this is one thing that she just can't, neither of them can.
(She wishes it didn't feel like a betrayal, even if that's not a logical thought.)
Shaking her head, Ellie squeezes her fingers back, brings both of her hands up; leans forward to kiss her knuckles. It's light but warm, and hopefully that'll lessen the blow of pulling away.
"Okay," she manages, before her throat closes, and she leaves before she can reach the breaking point of the pressure in her chest.
She leaves the scroll with the sketch behind.