thephix | (exsilium) ic contact

( A little snort, and then a wince before his nose is not the happiest thing in the worlds. )

I m-miss her.

( Marissa. She was never exactly super close to him, she was Max's and Max was first priority, the way she should be. More people needed to care about her in the way that Marissa does; it might even be more helpful and important to her than the way he cares about her, because that is so skewed and so complicated. His smile becomes a little more like an actual smile, even if it's a little obscured by the way he's holding ice to his nose. )

Are you-- d-doing okay?

( Just quietly, without it being a demand or pushy in the way his questions sometimes are. After the other day, after everything that unfolds here. He knows it's a complicated question for her, anything that demands her thinking about how she is and what she's feeling and then talking about it is always so difficult, but he can't not ask, can't leave it. The offer needs to be extended. )

[She wants to say so do I, but doesn't trust her voice to remain steady through it, not when it's such a fraught admission, so she simply nods. Marissa has been the one constant since Max left her family behind, since she gave up on Artemis and trying to do good the way that heroes were expected to. She never pushed, didn't ever expect anything more of Max than what she could give.

Until Adonis, she was the only person who knew about the shapeshifting, and she's the only person Max has ever given that secret too, instead of it being taken from her.

So is she doing okay?]

I'm surviving.

[Which is what she does best, even if that isn't really an answer to his question.

But it's all that matters. She's surviving, she's doing what needs to be done; how she's coping with that has never been a concern.]

It should b-be-- be b-better than surviving.

( That carried so little hope for herself, for everyone. If the best they can hope for is surviving, if that is what counts as okay.

Sometimes he wonders if Max hates him for all the things he knows. For both of them, it should be better than surviving, but he hardly has faith in his ability to survive. )

That's all there's ever been.

[Even when she was young, before she made a life of crime and destruction for herself. It was surviving her father, surviving his associates, surviving the things they expected of her. She'd just turned that into surviving the things she did to herself.]

I know.

( He feels the same. He never had to endure what she did, but he feels like all he'd ever done was survive and hide, before Atlas - before Max. )

M-maybe-- maybe it c-can b-be um, better here. Like a b-break? From home.

[It has been, in a way, at least a break from Asteria, and from her caution. She doesn't need to guard her secrets quite so closely, here, she'd let Jules see her shifting, had shared all those poems over the network even if she didn't put a name to them.]

It's hardly something I can switch off.

[Those survival instincts, the need to constantly be working because there's nothing else left for her. She can be a little more relaxed, can deal with people a little more honestly, instead of wrapping herself up in roles and lies, but the thought of not being the Sphinx or some form of her is terrifying.]

( Of course not. The way he can't just fix himself, and he nods because he understands, but even so. )

No. B-but--

( But what? )

We c-can do things d-different. See what w-works for us? Like-- I dunno, just t-try?

( Hypocrite )

Will you?

[Try, do things differently instead of getting too wrapped up in guilt to let himself make friends and keep them. Because that's what started his, and he's a hypocrite if he's trying to tell her to change when he's hating himself for the same thing.

Maybe they can make a deal of this, if they both try. It won't be too hard fo rher to convince him that she is genuinely trying to do things differently, even if she actually isn't.]

I d-dunno.

( It seems so impossible, pointless. )

W-would you? Really? Or j-just-- lie?

( She's so good at it. )

Would you believe me even if I really did?

[It's too harsh, especially when she was planning to lie, but for all that he has too much faith in her about some things, he never seems to believe her when it comes to others.

When it comes to herself, really. He won't believe the lies she tells him about herself.]

I b-believe in you. N-not what you say, all the t-time.

( It's too complicated. After a moment, he starts to sit up, pulling the ice away from his face. )

W-would you b-believe me?

[Her expression doesn't change, but something painful twists in her chest. That wasn't what she asked, and she hates hearing it, that he believes in her, as if she's something worth believing in.]

I would.

[He's a terrible liar, especially to her.]

( Maybe she forgets the way they've seen inside one another's heads lived memories and horrors and stripped each other bare. )

W-what should I do?

( Rhetorically. ) T-talk to um, p-people?

Do what makes you happy.

[Which should be obvious, for anyone but him, because she's not even sure he knows what happy is. But maybe having friends as Atlas is a start to that.]

( And he cracks a smile at that, just because it seems so ridiculous. Being Atlas just got his nose broken, for example. Atlas being the only thing in his life that makes him happy doesn't seem like enough, and he shouldn't kiss Max anymore, either. Not after all this. )

I d-don't, um.

( Know what that would be, if it's possible. He's a pathetic, miserable shit isn't he? )

I know.

[She tries to make things easier for him, when she's not tearing him apart even worse, as if it's some penance for all the other awful things she's done, but she's not so naive as to think she makes him happy.]

Maybe this can be a chance to figure it out.

[This city, even with all the terrible things in it.]

( You make me happy. Relieved and happy and verging on delight and bliss, and she can take him to the other extremes. They tear each other to shreds. )

I f-feel-- I feel b-better around you.

( But he knows it isn't mutual, and it's not her job or responsibility to make him feel better. )

I'll w-work it out. It's o-okay.

[She knows that, too. Not happy, but better, and maybe that's all she can hope for. It's not as though she can give him anything that would actally make him happy.]

I-- [She feels better around him, too, when they aren't fighting and making things worse, but she doesn't know how to put that into words. It feels like admitting too much, like she'd just be giving him hope that there could be more to them than this.

Instead, she just nods, offers him a smile and very lightly presses a kiss to his cheek, careful not to hurt him.]

Just try not to worry too much.

[It's a joke, just a little, because of course he's going to worry, that's just how he is, but maybe he can relax just a bit, enough to stop pushing friends away.]

( Careful, slowly, he pulls away. He's a sorry sight, all bruising and swelling, purple and black blossoming behind his eyes. )

M-maybe we shouldn't d-do uh, do that.

( So much for not worrying. That suggestion is being skipped and abandoned right away. )

You d-don't have t-to do stuff like that here, n-not with me. Here or at home. I w-won't let you down.

( She'll be happier, that way. He'll miss the kisses, but it might be better for both of them. )The other day--

( Things are already so confusing, complicated. )

[It's a struggle not to sigh with frustration, but she swallows it, knowing that showing anyhing like annoyance will just makes things worse, since he gets so upset and defensive.

She wants to point out that they've had this conversation, but then he mentions the other day and she has to pause to rethink how to approach this. Part of her just wants to pretend it never happened, but Donny seems eager to cling to it, to let it fester and make things even more tesnse between them.]

Do you want to discuss it?

[What they both said, because even if she very much doesn't want to, she's trying to be better for him.

She hasn't forgotten the rest of what he said, but she'll leave it for a moment, after they've decided on the rest of this.]

( that's unexpected. He shrugs, looking down and letting his hands rest on his abdomen.)

I d-dunno if there's anything t-to um, d-discuss. We b-both already knew. And-- I d-didn't expect, I knew. It's j-just what it is.

( The ice is back against his face. He doesn't like the cold but he needs it now.)

Don't worry. It d-doesn't m-matter.

[We both already knew, and she wonders what it is that he thinks he already knew, what he read in the poems she showed him.

She wants to tell him that he doesn't love her, that he's just infatuated because she's the first person to ever really pay attention to him. That feels too cruel, though, to point it out, too condescending, and she knows it would only make things worse. It'd just be an insult, to try to tell him how he feels.]

You deserve better. [Than her, when she's too twisted up to give him what he wants.

She doesn't give him time to reply before continuing:] We don't have to kiss anymore, if you don't want to, but I've already said that you don't have to stop on my account, and that's still true.

[She's told him that she likes kissing him, that she wants to, but she'll stop if he wants to.]

"D-deserve?" N-no one d-deserves other p-people.

( That's a fucked up thing to say. He doesn't "deserve" any person. )

I l-like-- I like k-kissing you, but-- it's n-not fair on you. When I feel d-different things.

( That just sounds unfair and messed up for both of them. )

K-kissing you is-- I like it.

You know what I meant.

[Except apparently he doesn't, and she isn't entirely sure what she meant. He deserves to have something good in his life, someone who can love him, and that's just not her. It can't be, not when she's... who she is.

She can imagine Asteria mocking her, and she has to rub at her brow, as if that might dispel the thoughts.]

I'm fairly sure it's not fair on you, either.

[That she keeps kissing him even when she knows that he loves her, when she knows how hard that must be for him.]

N-no deserves this.

( Him, this mess, the things Asteria has made of him, the mess he would have been regardless. They don't deserve nightmares. ) N-not even you.

( Because she keeps him close, and surely it would have been better for her if she'd just cut him lose in the beginning, if she'd never picked up the useless vigilante who is so broken and so incapable of all things. )

M-maybe I should g-go.

( Liberate her, give her relief from all this, from him. He's taking a second, with the way his head hurts, before he forces himself to his feet. )

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