mnt_raph | Outside Milliways

Outside Milliways

*Every emotion he's tried to control tonight gets the better of him, once he's outside. He keeps trying to convince himself that Splinter would be proud, but the truth of the matter is that any pride would be muted by damage he's just done to his hands. Bricks are not the most yielding of substances*

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*doesn't look meet her eyes, but he does smile slightly at the praise*

Don't know that there's anything you can do for us. Pain's just somethin' we gotta go through, ya know?

Every scar I got, and I got quite a few, has some memory to it. They remind me what I should and shouldn't do.
*chuckles*
Or they would, if I made a habit of listenin' to them.
*grins*

*she looks down at his hands, and the small scars on his arms*

What do they tell you? When you listen.

"Dodge" mostly.
See this one?

*points to a faint one that runs from the side of his nose to just next to his mouth*

Got that one from Leo. Were sparrin' and I pushed a button too many and got a little too close.

Nice.

Family's really good at pushing buttons, isn't it?

*He looks away*
The best, I think.

...I'm sorry.

*Looking anywhere but at Death*
Don't be. Ain't like it was your fault.

*There's a long, awkward sort of silence.*

*Then she kicks him beneath the table. Gently.*

Hey! What the heck what was that for?

*kicks her right back*

*a laugh, but it fades quickly, leaving only a small smile*

You aren't looking at me, turtle-boy.

*Attempting to cover*
I'm a New Yorker. As a general rule, we don't look at people.

*cheerfully* Bullshit.

*It's easy to tell by his expression that he's just swore at himself. He looks up slowly, and meets her gaze. It's all there the anger, hurt, confusion, desire, all there.*

*Her eyes are old, and hold infinite compassion. Not pity. Pity's a whole different animal. It is apparent, on an instinctual level, that she understands.*

*Continues to make direct eye contact*
This better?

*She doesn't flinch away from it.*

You'd have to tell me.

No. The answer is no.

*that's when she drops her eyes*

*quietly* I have done you a disservice.

*blinks in confusion*
Wait,... how?

*When she doesn't look up, he gently kicks her under the table*

*small, sad smile*

It's not my place. I shouldn't have pressed.

Course it is. You're my friend. Hell, it's practically your job.

Yeah, but this... it's not The Job.

I don't know what to do for you, 'cept be here.

For what it's worth, I appreciate you bein' here.

*smiles* It's worth quite a bit.

*Smiles back*

Good.
and, thanks

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locks_it_up - 2004-08-18 19:08 (UTC) - Expand

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