I know that you do. I'm not uncomfortable, I just...
[ There should be an easier way to say these things. Derrica has avoided ever being in this position for years, and she is endlessly aware of her own shortcomings now. ]
You are important to me. And I don't want to be selfish with you, or unfair. I think I might have been, on the road home.
[ She shakes her head, letting out a soft scoff. Part of her wants to stand up, to take Derrica's hands and tell her to be selfish. Athessa is used to unfair. It's unfair that she feels the way she does, unfair that she may never know what it's like to be — ]
I don't see how that was unfair or selfish. From where I sit — [ Which is a little weird. Sitting and looking up at Derrica for this, feeling small. ] — that's the closest we've managed to what we agreed. That nothing would change.
[ Maybe that was the part where they were foolish, where Derrica should have known better. There was no part of them that wasn't touched by the way this all started: flirtation, kissing. Everything is so tangled by it that Derrica doesn't know how to start separating it out. ]
So maybe we have to change too, because I don't want you to hurt.
[ Derrica does sit then, pushing aside the bracers to make room for herself. ]
Maybe we agreed to the wrong thing, and I need to do better.
[ Athessa stares, mouth agape for a moment with some half-formed nonsense waiting to be spoken.
Something did change. Maybe we have to change.
She shifts when Derrica sits down, turning to face her and finally catching up enough with what's happening to close her dumb mouth and swallow those unspoken words. ]
What — What're — [ Take a breath, girl. Take a breath and don't dare to hope. ] What're you saying, Dee?
[ Derrica almost puts her face in her hands. She should have written something down. Maybe it would have been easier to see what would ring in ways she didn't intend. ]
No, not—not what you think.
[ There's no way to gentle that, even if Derrica's tone is soft. ]
I meant we should try to be friends. For a little while.
[ She almost tacks on an example, and realizes she doesn't really have something that fits neatly. There's already too much history between them. It isn't something that can be jettisoned, even if she wanted to. ]
If we go on the way we were, it's just going to hurt you.
That's what we said we were doing. When we were giving each other space.
[ But what about how they acted on the road? That was close to what they'd had, minus the sex. Isn't that friendship? Isn't that mutual care for the other without needing to affix a word like love anywhere like chains tied to an anchor?
Athessa exhales, and it would sound like a laugh from the outside but inside it feels like the last scrape of some implement hollowing her out. What had she thought? What had she wanted? For Derrica to try to love her out of pity? Fuck that. Derrica isn't the one being selfish in any of this. ]
So as long as we don't do that again —
[ But she is scared of knowing her. Another breath, capped off with a lopsided smile. What fools they were, eh? ]
We won't. I'm sorry I did that to you, I just...I thought it would help.
[ Vanishing from sight felt like a sound plan. Some part of Derrica still thinks so, thinks that if she were away long enough Athessa would fall out of love with her. ]
I care about you, [ Derrica says, quieter, hesitantly reaching for Athessa's hand. ] I wish I could love you the right way.
[ Whatever that was. Something all-consuming, something that made her glow. Was she capable of that anymore? ]
[ Athessa turns and moves her hand away, unhurriedly, before Derrica's touch can alight upon it. If she allows that much, even a bare brush of skin, she'll crumble. She'll beg, she'll make even more of a fool of herself than she already is.
Somewhere in her mind, a cruel little voice whispers as if she could ever love you. It has a vice grip around her throat and it squeezes until her eyes sting, and she reaches not for Derrica, like she aches to, but for the bracers. ]
It's not your fault. There isn't a right way, anyway. [ Unlovable. Selfish. Ciara's voice: Why would I go with you? I can't love you.
She stands, tucking the bracers under her arm and forcing a smile. ]
I'd better get these back. Thanks for the tea.
[ The grip on her throat tightens. She walks away. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ There should be an easier way to say these things. Derrica has avoided ever being in this position for years, and she is endlessly aware of her own shortcomings now. ]
You are important to me. And I don't want to be selfish with you, or unfair. I think I might have been, on the road home.
no subject
I don't see how that was unfair or selfish. From where I sit — [ Which is a little weird. Sitting and looking up at Derrica for this, feeling small. ] — that's the closest we've managed to what we agreed. That nothing would change.
no subject
[ Maybe that was the part where they were foolish, where Derrica should have known better. There was no part of them that wasn't touched by the way this all started: flirtation, kissing. Everything is so tangled by it that Derrica doesn't know how to start separating it out. ]
So maybe we have to change too, because I don't want you to hurt.
[ Derrica does sit then, pushing aside the bracers to make room for herself. ]
Maybe we agreed to the wrong thing, and I need to do better.
no subject
Something did change. Maybe we have to change.
She shifts when Derrica sits down, turning to face her and finally catching up enough with what's happening to close her dumb mouth and swallow those unspoken words. ]
What — What're — [ Take a breath, girl. Take a breath and don't dare to hope. ] What're you saying, Dee?
no subject
No, not—not what you think.
[ There's no way to gentle that, even if Derrica's tone is soft. ]
I meant we should try to be friends. For a little while.
[ She almost tacks on an example, and realizes she doesn't really have something that fits neatly. There's already too much history between them. It isn't something that can be jettisoned, even if she wanted to. ]
If we go on the way we were, it's just going to hurt you.
no subject
[ But what about how they acted on the road? That was close to what they'd had, minus the sex. Isn't that friendship? Isn't that mutual care for the other without needing to affix a word like love anywhere like chains tied to an anchor?
Athessa exhales, and it would sound like a laugh from the outside but inside it feels like the last scrape of some implement hollowing her out. What had she thought? What had she wanted? For Derrica to try to love her out of pity? Fuck that. Derrica isn't the one being selfish in any of this. ]
So as long as we don't do that again —
[ But she is scared of knowing her. Another breath, capped off with a lopsided smile. What fools they were, eh? ]
no subject
[ Vanishing from sight felt like a sound plan. Some part of Derrica still thinks so, thinks that if she were away long enough Athessa would fall out of love with her. ]
I care about you, [ Derrica says, quieter, hesitantly reaching for Athessa's hand. ] I wish I could love you the right way.
[ Whatever that was. Something all-consuming, something that made her glow. Was she capable of that anymore? ]
no subject
[ Athessa turns and moves her hand away, unhurriedly, before Derrica's touch can alight upon it. If she allows that much, even a bare brush of skin, she'll crumble. She'll beg, she'll make even more of a fool of herself than she already is.
Somewhere in her mind, a cruel little voice whispers as if she could ever love you. It has a vice grip around her throat and it squeezes until her eyes sting, and she reaches not for Derrica, like she aches to, but for the bracers. ]
It's not your fault. There isn't a right way, anyway. [ Unlovable. Selfish. Ciara's voice: Why would I go with you? I can't love you.
She stands, tucking the bracers under her arm and forcing a smile. ]
I'd better get these back. Thanks for the tea.
[ The grip on her throat tightens. She walks away. ]