Jump to content

[PP - F4] Haunt


Recommended Posts

VxLcUFP.jpg

The wisdom we learn as our minds they do burn'll entice the naivety in youth. As adults will grow and maturity shows all the terrifying rarity of truth.
As you turn to your mind, and your thoughts they rewind, to old happenings and things that are done. 
You can't find what's passed, make that happiness last, seeing from those eyes what you become.

Lessa stood just inside the safe zone. It was a matter of personal safety, she told herself, and not cowardice. There was no telling who planned to show up, if anyone came at all. The Starglades lay abandoned this time of day, as it was the night show that really drew crowds. But they held no mystique for Lessa, even after nightfall; she had not returned to this place in four years. Instead, her gaze remained on a distant clearing. Once, the massive Orochi had dominated there, dwarfing the two players who dared challenge him. The inexperienced pair had acted on impulse and adrenaline, aided by luck more so than their meager attacks. But they'd survived. They had gone on to fight bigger, better monsters, until that luck finally ran out for one of them.

Heavy armor clinked as Lessa shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She cut an imposing figure against the dull snow, her engraved chestplate and gauntlets glowing beneath the weak sunlight. Her crimson cloak hung like a bloody slash across the gray terrain. A hand moved absently to Scarecrow's Twin, and in response, it glowed faintly with red energy. The sight comforted, as if the sword's previous owner stood beside her. Lessa could use his support, and the confidence he instilled within her, but she had neglected to tell him of this trip. This mission was hers alone. 

A few minutes more, she promised herself, glancing to check the sun's position in the sky. If she remained alone on that snow-covered hill, she would know it had been nothing but a cruel mistake.

@Alkor

Yui's Grace Applied
 

Spoiler

Level: 38 | HP: 780 | Energy: 78 | Base DMG: 15 | Base MIT: 72 | Acc: 4 | Thorns: 2 | Heavy Momentum: 1 | Bleed: 1
2HSS [5] | Heavy Armor [3] | Protector Familiar [3] | Survival | Howl | Precision
Scarecrow’s Twin [+2 DMG/+1 BLD] | Rose Gauntlets [+2 THNS/+1 HM] | Rosebud Charm [+3 ACC]

Housing
Rested: -1 energy cost for the first two expenditures of each combat.
Relaxed: Increases out of combat HP regen by (5 * Tier HP) and decreases full energy regen to 2 Out of Combat Posts.
Clean: The first time you would suffer DoT damage in a thread, reduce damage taken from DoT each turn by 20% (rounded down).
Col Stash: +5% bonus col from monster kills and treasure chests.
Multipurpose: Gain +1 to LD, Stealth Rating, Stealth Detection, or Prosperity to one post in a thread. Can be applied after a roll.

 

Link to post
Share on other sites

The world had gone on without him. He trudged up the path high on that sobering realization, and absently wondered at how those people left behind had chosen to live. It was never the same when someone was lost. It left a mark, and healing from it was impossible. That was why people said things like "I'm sorry for your loss," or "if there's anything I can do."

Sympathy.

But not Empathy. Unless one had lost someone, they could not truly understand how it felt. Alkor could not begin to measure the confusion and loss his absence could potentially have left. To him, it was no different from waking up a day later, even if it had been multiple years. Lessa could easily have moved on. It made sense for someone like that to be skeptical.

There had been discord in their initial relationship, after all. It's not like they were altogether close. Or, if they were, he wasn't self-aware enough to recognize it. Still, he had his hood up in the normal fashion, and his blade- the one she forged for him- rested at his right hip. Alkor had always been left handed.

The woman he saw was far and away from the meek thing he remembered. 

Time really had changed her.

@Lessa

Link to post
Share on other sites

Surprise and apprehension mingled in her expression as the hooded figure came into being. Lessa watched him draw nearer, resisting the urge to start making assumptions. True, Alkor had preferred darker colors, and he had often donned a hood. But could the same not be said about every Edge Lord in Aincrad? And while it was true that his appearance was unusual, there were many logical answers. A coincidence, and someone else simply showed up at the Starglades while she waited? It was a public space, after all. Or someone posing as Alkor? It would require a hacking ability to adopt the dead player's name, but it was still more believable than the real player's resurrection.

The thought fell away completely as the figure's sword came into focus. That blade. It had been forged by her hands, and had plunged through her chest, so there was no mistaking it. By the time Alkor came to rest before her, and lifted his gaze to hers, she already knew. She did not need to see the lines and curves of his face, or his haunting whiskey eyes. Everything about him was familiar. After so many years, she still knew him.

Emotions swamped her, swirling as recklessly as the snowflakes on the cold wind. She had dreamed of finding him, of their reunion, so many times. She'd laugh, she'd cry, she'd throw her arms around his neck in an endless embrace. But when her fantasy became reality, Lessa found no desire for any of those things. Instead, she merely inclined her head in greeting.

"So you're not dead. That's good."

Link to post
Share on other sites

"I thought so," he agreed with no hint of amusement or sarcasm in his voice. It seemed she had changed. Reservation had never been the woman's strong suit. It was a welcome change, but it felt odd nonetheless. Alkor shifted uncomfortably as he considered his words.

"I don't remember much after those last few seconds. I don't remember anything," he corrected himself. "I used a teleportation crystal in the moments before I would have died. After that, everything went black."

Someone had found him, probably, and dragged him to an inn. That was the best he could figure, and even that could not wholly account for everything. The other Frontline players moved on, and he was frozen in time.

He looked to Lessa, relieved she had not tried to hug him. The swordsman was already stuck in his head about everything. "I'm trying to put things together. What's been happening since I disappeared? How far have we come? Who do I need to catch up to?"

@Lessa

Link to post
Share on other sites

“Hm.” The sound came on a hint of a smile. Amusement ghosted into her eyes as she surveyed the man. Who did he need to catch up to? Of course that would be among his main concerns. Alkor’s need to be the best, be the strongest, had been as predictable as each day’s rising sun. How else would he hope to protect those who needed it? 

 Had anything changed about her old companion? On the surface, it didn’t appear so. Her discovery of him was a bit like opening up a time capsule. Alkor was just as she remembered.

“Not much has changed, if I’m being honest with you.” Lessa gave a shrug beneath her heavy armor. “The grind continues. The Frontliners have made it to floor twenty five.” There was a strange pang of guilt as she added, “I haven’t been with them.” Where had that come from?

She forced the annoying emotion away with a short laugh. Her hands went to her hips, and she gave a small shake of her head. “Like seeing a ghost,” she mused, voice almost reverent. “You really haven’t changed either. Small miracles.”

She lifted one armored hand to gesture toward the town. “Walk with me? I’ll get you in touch with some Frontliners, if you want. So you can determine just how many boars need to be killed to fill the gap.”

Link to post
Share on other sites

His zeal got the better of him, as it often did. Alkor relaxed after a few seconds of literally staring daggers at the woman expectantly, shut his eyes, and exhaled. "The world moves on with or without you, I guess," he muttered. So it was true. They had made their way all the way to the twenty fifth floor already. For them it may not have felt like much, but for Alkor that was a marathon run.

He heard that Lessa had not been among them, and he wondered how much or how little he had played into that decision. This did not seem like a woman utterly effected by the loss of him. Alkor was glad for that, in part. Lessa had never been someone he could do right by. He had never known how.

"Sorry," he grunted finally. "I should ask how you've been, and not be in such a hurry to get back to old habits." 

It was the most human remark he'd made in a long time, yet he half expected it to earn him a slap. Their relationship had always been rocky, and he had always been callous. To protect people, he had recognized that being distant from them was not always the best course of action.

Still, she entreated with him to walk with her. Alkor nodded, and fell in step. "I'll figure it out as I go along," he replied, "for now, I have a lot of things to do. Answers to find." He found himself staring into the void out ahead of them.

"I've never had any skill at conversation, or social interaction," he said at last, revealing a not-so-secret truth about himself. "I was never much good at talking to you, and I'm sorry for that. You seem to have grown pretty skilled in the time I've been gone. It's good to know that you found a path to follow."

@Lessa

Link to post
Share on other sites

The blonde chuckled and rolled her eyes. “You struggle with conversation? You don’t say?” She slanted him a glance, then softened. “I still always enjoyed our talks.” Had he not? Did he assume she hadn’t? Even if Alkor hadn’t disappeared, this discussion was a long time coming. Their bond had been strained even before facing the Hydra. Back then, she had been unsure what they were to each other. She sure as hell didn’t know now.

So maybe this was a second chance. Years had been wasted stuck in the past, and as soon as she began to move on, he appeared. That couldn’t be coincidence. So she reached back and clasped her hands behind her neck, focusing on the feel of the sun on her face. It kept her from dwelling on the surreal situation.

”It hasn’t been an easy path,” she assured him. “Took a long time to find. I spent a bit of time wandering aimlessly. But things are better now. I’m really happy.” It wasn’t until she spoke the words that she realize how true they were. She truly had found her stride, and a place where she felt at home. And it wasn’t just Manderley.

”I can help you find those answers, if you want. And fill in some of those blank spots. Tell you what you missed.” A small smirk crept onto her lips. Conspiratorially, she said, “We just got done fighting what was basically a vampire stripper.”

Link to post
Share on other sites

"I'm not sure that before, I ever really knew what it meant to enjoy something. This whole experience has me thinking differently, and I think that's for the best." He spoke about their grim situation in a positive light, but neither player was content to remain trapped in Aincrad. "Conversations before were rife with responses like the ones you used to get from me. Unfeeling. Reactive. Distant." 

Alkor folded his arms. "I wanted to save everyone but myself, because I didn't understand the value of my own life. I didn't think it had any."

The whole brush with death had sobered him, and as they walked, he rested his hand on the pommel of his blade. "I still want to fight," he told her, "but I think now, I can say I'm fighting for the right reasons."

He looked her way out of the corner of his eye. "I treated people wrong because I didn't understand how they felt. And worse, I didn't want to. But you can't protect people if they don't trust you. If they don't understand. I get that, now."

When she mentioned the "vampire-stripper," his face went deadpan. "You're screwing with me, aren't you? I deserve that, I guess."

He shrugged after moment. "Regardless, I'd appreciate the assist. It'd help me get back on the right track."

@Lessa

Link to post
Share on other sites

It was refreshing to hear Alkor talk of self worth, and fighting to save himself, as well as the others. He’d always had this strange reckless streak in him, as if his actions weren’t worth doing unless his life was in jeopardy. At the time, it had left Lessa distressed and frightened for his safety. Now, she knew he wasn’t the only one in the game with such a mindset.

Maybe he truly had changed after all. Dying, she supposed, did that to a person. At least his long stay in the virtual afterlife had been educational. “I seem to remember someone else telling you your life was worth something,” she teased gently. “But I’ll save you the ‘I told you so,’ considering the circumstances.”

Snow crunched underfoot as she listened to his confession. So he truly hasn’t cared about her feelings, or understanding what made her tick. Disappointment dogged her, but she shoved it away. At least she wouldn’t spend another half-decade wondering. 

”I’m working my way back to the Frontlines,” she informed him, deciding it better not to comment on his previous statement. “Maybe we can grind together.” One hand rose and fell, gesturing to all of his gear at once. “Also your stuff is a bit outdated now. I know a good tailor, if you’re not up to crafting just yet. And I can... make you another sword.”

Now for something more lighthearted. Lessa shrugged. “I wouldn’t lie about a vampire stripper. The Countess was her name.” She smirked, then added, “It was honestly a complete train wreck. I only landed one of my many attacks. Luck was not on my side that day. But if nothing else, it’s motivation to get better.”

Link to post
Share on other sites

He noted that she seemed much more reserved and much less touch-and-feel as she spoke, and even failed to comment on certain conversation points. It must have been a sore subject. Or he was overthinking it, which was fairly standard. "Well, being asleep while everyone you know is still putting up the good fight puts things into perspective, I guess."

Alkor folded his arms and looked away from the woman. There were so many things he had failed to understand about her, and in many ways, he still failed to understand. It didn't stop him from trying to make that connection now. Friends were a precious resource, and he had neglected to make any before.

Not for lack of effort on Lessa's part.

"Then we're on the same road," he turned and began to walk backward, all the while glancing the armored woman over. "I'd be greatly appreciative if I could get kitted out for the next challenge," he told her. "And... I would very much like a new sword."

The story about the Vampire made him recall another time Lessa had been less fortunate with blades. He dared not bring that particular memory to light.

@Lessa

Link to post
Share on other sites

She felt his gaze on her, and it sent pinpricks up her neck. It was odd, she decided, walking with him again. Listening to the complete control in his voice, and the self-assuredness. It really did take her back.

The desire to touch him still lingered, to assure herself he wasn’t some sort of ghost. Or that this wasn’t a bad dream caused by eating bad cooking... again. But to literally put herself closer seemed like a terrible idea, when it had likely driven him away in the first place. In fact, she felt her body drifting away as they walked, her footsteps veering the slightest bit away from his.

”So what do you plan to do first?” came her question, more to break the silence than anything else. She caught his amber gaze, then gave him a rueful smile. “They haven’t found the boss yet, so you can’t quite jump right in.”

Link to post
Share on other sites

"Even if they had, I'm in no hurry to risk rushing headlong into another coma." Alkor spoke with a hint of chagrin in his words as he kept pace with the more heavily armored woman. "I've got work to do before I'm any sort of use on the Frontlines. It's not like before. The stakes are higher."

The swordsman glanced off toward the town far below. "I suppose I'll get back to whatever grind I can find," he told her. "I've been out of it for long enough that I'm rusty about some things. I put down a few mobs to benchmark myself, and I haven't gotten any weaker, but I have a long way to go before I can call myself strong."

The woman gave him a wide berth. It made sense. She seemed to want more distance between them, like if he was the real thing, he might harm her. Or worse- she didn't believe he was, and he had no way of convincing her.

"I've got confidence in my ability to survive, but that's about it."

@Lessa

Link to post
Share on other sites

“Confidence in your ability to survive is definitely a start,” she assured him. A biting wind whipped across the white expanse, and Lessa shivered despite her passive <<Survival>> skill. When the gust had past, she swept her long, thin braids back behind her ear.

It had been cold that night they’d fought Orochi, too. Absolutely frigid, if she remembered correctly, though it was likely she didn’t. So many years stood between now and that battle, and she’d thought back to it constantly. It was one of the few moments she’d had with Alkor that hadn’t been rife with unease and discomfort. The concept nearly made her laugh. Fighting a massive creature far too powerful for them had been one of the less stressful times? What a strange pair they’d made.

”So,” she mused aloud, finally putting voice to her thoughts. “That Orochi fight. Definitely takes me back.”

They were only a few minutes from the town’s edge now, the entrance gate standing like beacon against the swirling snow. “And what are your more immediate plans?” she asked suddenly, surprising even herself. “Do you have time in your quest for greatness to grab some food?”

Link to post
Share on other sites

In another time, they had been younger adventurers. Lessa had been meek by contrast, and Alkor threw himself headlong into battle against a behemoth. It would be different now. She had the heavier armor, and several levels or more than he had. Time had given her the opportunity to grow, in more ways than literal.

"Battle's about the only time where I'm not anxious," he revealed. "So, yeah. Good times."

His thoughts moved over the floor where they had spent so much of their time, and as the town grew larger he shook his head. "Strange how things work out," he muttered.

It was cold, but that never bothered him. There was no added danger in this weather, whereas other floors boasted climate based damage. The cold could still kill you, if you weren't smart about it. That was just the learning curve.

"Now?" he thought aloud. "I guess I don't have a direction in mind, just yet. Trying to get my bearings. But, I suppose I could handle food. It's not that far beneath me," he joked.

Of course, he seemed serious. He always seemed serious.

@Lessa

 

 

Link to post
Share on other sites

Lessa gave a snort, but said nothing else as they approached the gate. Was he joking? She assumed he was, but it was difficult to tell. You really are a cold bastard, aren’t you?

Only once they were within the town limits did Lessa glance over at him. “If you’re not particular, I have a place in mind. Great burgers, better cookies, so basically a perfect spot.” She expertly navigated her way down side streets, weaving between players who killed about. The holidays were approaching, and the fourth floor was undoubtedly the best place to spend them. Unfortunately, the crowds became something of an issue.

The carved wooden rabbit creaked on its chain above the large in-set door. “The White Rabbit,” she explained, tugging the door opening, and holding it for Alkor. The pair entered into the pleasant warmth of the inn. Unlike most other taverns, Alexander kept his establishment clean, well lit, and well ventilated. Rather than tables crammed together in dark corners, the Rabbit was more spacious, with comfortable chairs scattered amongst the standard tables

Lessa glances at the two armchairs nearest the cracklings fire, then selected a table. The NPC owner and barkeep seemed to materialize beside them, and he beamed down at Lessa. “Good afternoon!” Only then did his gaze skip to Alkor. When his eyes returned to her, they held concern and.... was that hurt? “And where is Bahr?”

”Uh, not here today, Alex. I’m meeting with a friend. This is Alkor.”

The NPC surveyed the other player for a moment, then gave a curt nod and asked for orders. Upon receiving them, he moved away without another word. Lessa blew out a breath, shook her head, then focused on Alkor. “Anyway, what is it like being back? Is it all new again, or does it feel like you never left?”

@Alkor

Link to post
Share on other sites

"Burgers?" He lit up. There was nothing quite like a good hamburger, at least, not to a good ol' boy. Pulled pork came a close second. "That sounds great, honestly."

He walked with her toward the place where the barkeep and Lessa shared a strange exchange, then they took their seats. He looked toward her after she asked her question and considered it. "I... guess it was like waking up from a bad dream," he confessed. "Only to return to the nightmare."

She was so different. Distant. Not at all like the woman who had refused him space after he practically pleaded with her for it. They had been so bad, so very bad with each other, but he remembered how he had treated her.

He had been so much worse.

"Look," he said, "I'm going to be honest. I told you once that I wasn't good with people, but I don't think I explained that well; and I don't think it excuses the way I treated you in the past. I was trying to cope with having to be myself, and pretending to be someone else, and having them collide on a horrible disaster walking on two feet."

He took his drink in hand and sipped it. The familiar subtle flavors of vanilla and cinnamon washed around his mouth and calmed his nerves. Coca cola had always done that for him, somehow.

"I get nervous around people," he told her, "and even more nervous with physical contact. Instead of saying something, I just acted like a dick. I should have been up front about it."

He looked back up to her. "I appreciate you taking the time to come meet with me, I really do. But you don't like me, right?" He asked that very bluntly, like he already knew the answer. "After looking back on it, I can't blame you, honestly, if you don't. So, part of the reason I called you before anyone else was to apologize. I wronged you more than anyone else.

I'm sorry."

@Lessa

 

Link to post
Share on other sites

While Alkor spoke, Alexander appeared beside their table. He gently placed a cup of coke in front of Lessa, as well as a steaming cup of pepperjack crab bisque. He knew it was her favorite, and generally served it to her even when she didn't order it. There was a flash of dislike in his light brown eyes, but at least he didn't drop Alkor's glass before returning to the bar. Too engrossed in his story, the newly returned player may not have noticed. Lessa, however, did; she hid the smirk behind a spoonful of soup.

When Alkor finally fell silent, his apology hanging heavy between them, the woman stole another moment to simply think it over. It was probably rude, considering he'd just spilled his guts all over the worn wooden table. But he hadn't spent years envisioning this conversation - when they'd finally talk about the catastrophe that had been their friendship. She had.

"I had a boyfriend in high school," she began, the chair creaking beneath her as she leaned forward. One arm rest along the table's edge while the other hand absently stirred her soup. "His name was Marcus. He had a lot of problems. Did terrible in school, totally irresponsible, couldn't follow through with anything. He had the hots for a few other girls, and he wasn't shy about it. He also had this drug problem, and some pretty violent tendencies. In the beginning, he acted like I was a positive influence. I had a 'calming presence.'" Lessa rolled her eyes, clearly less enamored than she was at fifteen.

"But after a while, he began to blame things on me. That he only got so upset with me because he was a 'passionate person.' That he was spending too much time with me, and it was ruining his other obligations. That he was only talking to other girls because he needed a 'break' from me, and how dare I make him choose between myself and his friends." Her blue eyes hardened, and malice filled her voice as she said, "That my refusal to meet his sexual needs was making him 'question what we had.' The guy actually attempted suicide, blamed it on me, and then told me he'd try it again if I ever left him."

Lessa paused to blow out a long breath before taking another bite of soup. With the spoon empty, she pointed it across the table. "Now don't get me wrong, you're no Marcus. But you both had this way of making me feel bad for everything I did. Somehow, every action I made for the right reasons was actually detrimental. Mixed signals everywhere." She banked her spoon on the cup's edge, then took a sip from her coke. Swirling the amber liquid in her glass, she stated, "We were friends, Alkor. You cared about me, and I cared about you. Either that was real, or you deserve a goddamn Academy Award. Then, all of the sudden, I was 'poison.' I was 'trapping' you, and you 'hated' me for it. You kept coming back, and it wrecked you, but you did it 'for me.'" 

It was all boiling over. That toxic sludge, that volcano that had sat dormant in her gut was awakening. What she'd wanted to tell him for so many years. "You made me feel like a villain for loving you. That's a really shitty thing to do. If I was too clingy, you should have given it to me straight. I could have handled it. You didn't need to plead with me, or tell me that you were only there for me, even though it killed you." Her voice broke on that one word. Lessa's eyes closed, and though something burned behind them, she had no tears left for this particular tragedy. "You talked about hating me and failing me in the same breath. You admired how easily I could be myself, and when I tried to help you do the same, you burned me at the stake."

Alexander returned with their burgers, but this time, Lessa never glanced at him. Her eyes were steady on Alkor's. Like little bits of stars, crushed up into tiny pieces. "And then when I'd become too much, you ran away with someone else. Was I wrong? Oh god yes. I pushed way too hard, I see that now. But I didn't deserve that. You faked your own death to avoid the adult responsibility of having this exact conversation. You took me out of the equation, and denied me the right to make my own decisions."

"And now you've decided that I hate you."

"But you're wrong."

Link to post
Share on other sites

"Like right now," he let out the breath he had been holding as she spoke. Certainly, he had not expected a positive response. His own emotions were a monster he struggled to overcome and understand. Those of others were a mythical beast- terrifying, imposing.

She was more than entitled to feel whatever way she did. The difference was always his perception. In return, Lessa had perceptions of her own. They were both wrong.

"Every bone in my body is telling me to get up and walk away, because I don't know what to say. I barely understand my own feelings. But I do understand fear, and I know that you can't be brave if you don't feel it."

Alkor put the glass down and looked up from it to match her gaze. "In that moment, all I thought about was getting out of here alive. There wasn't a single trace of getting away from you. This game was supposed to be an outlet. I was live-in caregiver for my grandmother, who suddenly started showing signs of dementia just before this all started. My only thoughts were that I couldn't die. Not before I get back to her. I can't imagine faking my death just to avoid someone. That's beyond social anxiety, it's warped."

Frigid, skeletal fingers tickled the back of his neck as he spoke. "That doesn't mean I wasn't afraid. I was. That's why I acted the way I did. I let my fear rule my actions. I let it whisper in my ear what other people thought of me."

He relaxed his jaw and unclenched his fists. "I let the idea that there was someone as scared as I was convince me I understood what it meant to care for someone,"  he said softly. "I let guilt convince me it was alright to pretend to know what love was, because people kept telling me they cared. I tried to give Mari what she wanted, even though I have no idea what I want."

He took a sharp breath. "No, that's not quite right. I want to see my grandmother.

But I'm not afraid of you. Not anymore. I refuse to walk away from this conversation because it shakes me up. I refuse to live my life chained by uncertainty, and I won't let your honesty tear down that resolve. I've been given a chance to right my wrongs. I'm taking it." 

@Lessa

Link to post
Share on other sites

He was just really, really not getting it. Had he always been this dense, or did the Hydra kill a few too many brain cells? Lessa eyed her oldest friend over the spread of food and drinks. Then she heaved a sigh. “I spill my guts, and you answer with how much this conversation upsets you.” 

Her statement plunged them into silence, and even the noise of other patrons seemed to dim. Then, Lessa did something that, honestly, surprised the hell out of her.

She laughed.

”Sorry,” she managed around a final chuckle. “It’s just... god, it’s so like you. I think I’d forgotten how bad you were at this.” The woman was still smiling as she slid her half-finished soup away, and tugged her burger closer. She paused to nibble a fry, still watching him across the table. While she chewed the salty, deep fried goodness, she realized something.

”I expected a lot out of you. Probably too much. You just want to see your grandma. That’s a noble mission.” The smiled slipped away as Lessa paused again. “Yeah, I think I remember you telling me about her once. When we still talked.”

She grabbed another fry, but this time, simply held it above her plate. “We stopped doing that at some point. Just being honest with each other. Everything probably snowballed from there. If we’d talked, you could have told me you were scared. I had no idea. I- uh, didn’t think you were scared of anything.”

The laugh came again, quick and sudden. “And you were scared of me? I thought you’d proved you were the more ruthless of the two of us.” Lessa dropped the fry, then pressed a hand to the spot on her stomach where Alkor had sheathed his sword. “Still hurts when it rains,” she teased.

Sobering up once more, she folded her arms on the table’s edge. “Look, you were still a dick to me. I meant every word I said to you. You acted like I was actual garbage. But I don’t hate you. I’m willing to try this again, if you are. Just know that if you treat me poorly again, I’ll have the strength to walk away. I like you, but I don’t need you anymore.”

Link to post
Share on other sites

His entire body shivered as she spoke.

I'm not running away. I'm not running away. I'm not running away. 

He heard every word she said. Everything hit him just as she intended, but true to form, he had responded in a way that proved he had never improved his social skills. Except in this situation, he was on the verge of a breakdown. Every word he said was more for himself than her, to reinforce the statement. That he wasn't afraid. That he wouldn't be afraid of her anymore, more specifically, of the feelings he had in response to who she was.

Alkor had friends- or something like friends, his idea of what that word meant- but Lessa had always been more intense. She was a kind woman, and had accepted his behavior despite how awful it had been. He realized that now, far too late to undo it. That was why he had come in the first place.

That was why he would beat the anxiety, here and now.

He looked up at her. "No, I didn't mean to say that out loud. I was telling myself to calm down. It doesn't matter how uncomfortable I am," he shook his head, "I'm not here to make excuses, or justify my actions. I was wrong. I wanted you to know why I did it, even if it was a poor reason. You deserve the truth."

He exhaled loudly, and if he could have been perspiring, he knew he would have been. But it had been said. The weight was gone, and he could breathe again.

"You didn't need me to begin with," he said at last. "I don't think it's healthy to need someone." He reached for his coke again, desperately sipping it for comfort. "But, if you want them around, that's what makes it special. And honestly, I do want you around. As a friend."

@Lessa

Link to post
Share on other sites
Guest
This topic is now closed to further replies.
×
×
  • Create New...