housewareshero | IC Inbox for empatheias

[ She assumes it's because of the radio silence since talking about their pasts, of course. It was hard enough for her to reveal what happened to her and like she's known to do, she shut down emotionally after that. She probably should've tried to contact him before. Be decent. Let him know they're still cool and on even, friendly footing.

The worst part is he might be the only person she's not friend-zoned. Age isn't an issue, especially considering she's a solid ten years older in "reality" back home. She just isn't ready to get that close to anyone, let alone someone she deeply cares about.

Her response comes as a ping in the back of the mind. Still text, but more immediate. ]

Alright. I get it, you're pissed I went MIA.

That, or I burnt the canelés.

I guess I just don't know how to deal with being intimate with anyone. Not exactly like I have a track record that doesn't end in the other person's death. Basically got a guy older than you with kids and my partner that doesn't even get partnered with me anymore. Always been the one to hold it in and protect the people I care about, even if it's from having to console me.

It's... taking a lot for me to admit to this, you know. For what it's worth, I'm sorry.

[he's still getting used to this shit. when her message shows up, he's in the middle of sawing some boards for the third floor construction, and he nearly goes through the sawhorse afterwards.]

Fuck.

[he turns off the saw and detatches it to give his shoulder a break, sitting down on the hefty pile of two-by-fours behind him that he still hasn't prepped]

I think you probably already got the memo that I don't do this much either. And passing notes like the psych version of the back row of math class is just weird. Is your new roommate there?

[at least in text, the bitterness on the word "roommate" isn't clear?]

[ She is, naturally, out back beating up a tree. It's nearly busted apart thanks to the effort of her legs. It's hanging on like the last thread of sinew in a body part -- a few more hard strikes and the thread will slice in two and leave a stump. ]

Guess it would depend on what part you mean.

And everyone else talks like this. No one was stopping you from any other kind of contact.

[ That she's being a little huffy in return doesn't necessarily translate to text, but part of it comes from a place of hurt, too. And she's not good when it comes to dealing with that. ]

Don't know. Why? You afraid to talk to me like a grown man when another one is around? [ Now it's pretty clear that she's gone from worried that she'd messed up something between them to being annoyed with him. ] Nothing's stopping you from asking him yourself, Ashley. Do whatever you want.

[ There it is, that knife-sharp side of her. It's hard to tell if it's a dare or sarcasm, but it's clear that she's not happy with him right now. ]

Edited (never give me time to rethink a tag) 2018-06-18 06:31 (UTC)

[Jesus H. Christ on a Cracker, this is why he doesn't deal with women. THEY'RE ALL INSANE. suddenly she sounds like she wants to bite his head(s?) off. he recoils, and the shock and defensiveness come across clear as a warning shot, a crack across their connection. his heart falters, and one of the two-by-fours he's sitting on splits up the middle, sending him tumbling onto the ground.]

Shit --

[he recovers quickly, despite a fantastic facial expression of surprise that she'll get a quick, unconscious broadcast of. you made his emotions go slapstick, Jill, do you feel better? he heaves a sigh and just stays there, his butt in the dirt. what, they're brown pants, it's not like it makes a difference]

Look, you ain't the only one who doesn't know how to deal with this anymore! I been all but alone for thirty fuckin' years, and you're the first person who even -

[there's almost the mental impression of him writing something and scribbling it out, a thought he hit the brakes on. she was the first to even care about what really happened, the first to invite him to her home unasked, the first to touch him in comfort, the first to listen, the first to treat him as a friend not just because he saved her life. so many firsts. he bites down on them all, bites down on how special that made him feel. how someone else showing up right on the heels of that was like a kick in the junk to his fragile ego, and made him feel like he'd gotten up his hopes for nothing. that maybe she'd care more about someone whose crazy world was the same type as hers. science, not magic. mansions, not cabins.]

I'm shit at this, Jill.

[maybe the first time he's said it in decades:]

I'm sorry.

[ She's still got a temper. A lot of unchecked anger, especially from the more recent things in her life. She values a lot of things, including his friendship, and she doesn't get huffy or pissed if someone isn't worth it. She's unaware if anything happens on the other end, but she might soften and apologize if she knew. ]

Hey.

[ She feels bad. She feels really bad about it even if he wasn't being direct with her, even if she could feel some accusation -- but maybe she was assuming it? -- in his words. Maybe it's just what she thought he thought. It's not easy. When has it ever been, though? ]

...thanks.

I just value directness. Which isn't fair because I wasn't. I know I kind of dumped this on you out of nowhere, but it's not like I didn't tell you that you can crash any time at my place and that still stands.

You could've just asked about him. Only met him a handful of times. He knows Chris' sister and I'd like to think you know me well enough to know I'm not gonna drop everything just because someone I know pops up. Is that it?

[ This is so awkward. This is so awkward and she's not entirely sure what to ask, say, or assume. She knows what she teeters on, but she'd rather not address it. She knows it bothers her so much because she cares. ]

I'm sorry for being an asshole. Kinda known for being a bit aggressive sometimes, in case you haven't noticed.

[he can't do this brain-written stuff anymore. it's too weird, especially when they're talking about something so emotionally charged. she'll hear his voice now, loud and clear. a little tired. a little scared.]

Nah, y' weren't. But I figured if you had someone from your place to talk about all your shit with, then -- they'd get it better than me. I mean - I'd get that, if you did. If that was - I mean -

Fuck. I pegged you wrong, but not 'cuz I think yer an asshole. I'm - I'm used t' everyone else in the world bein' an asshole. It's ... y'know. Reflex. Shoot first, think never.

[ She follows suit because she likes him. Normally she'd carry on in the text, allowing herself to carry on with that curtaining her. She's strained and exhausted on her own end, unsure how to progress but unwilling to be silent. ]

Yeah, that's it. I'll ditch your ass and spend all day and night with a guy who works for the government and has the hottest boy band haircut. [ A chuckle slips out, but it's clearly just for his benefit. ] I might keep my friendship circle small, but I don't let people in without intending to keep them here. Sorry to break it to you, but you're kind of stuck.

[ She makes another sound, this time more genuine. A little huff; not quite a laugh. ]

I'm not always as forthright as I wish I was. I never know how to approach my feelings or... affection or, well, intimacy. But I don't use people. I'm too old for that shit, Ash.

[ There is a long pause, but there's that strange, alive crackle like when you're on the phone and someone is on the other end. ]

Hey, what do you call a ship that doesn't sink?

[he gives a small, tired, laugh, too: because he knows this one. GOD, it's bad, too, but he knows it, and the best way to get them past this is to be a wiseass about it. she can hear his grin in his voice, clear as day]

Not the Titanic!

[ At least he seems to take her backwards, exceedingly awkward apology well enough. She's not sure how much -- or if -- he really believes her, but it's the best she's got. ]

...cute. But the answer is a friendship.

[ Embarrassing. ]

Yeah, yeah, I knew that, I just had to give you a hard time.

[honestly, Jill, please hear that smile. he even chuckles a little. he knows how awkward feelings are. let's avoid them as much as possible, right? we cover up with bad jokes and ribbing and shoulder punches and noogies, that's how this thing works. OH and of course, changing the subject, too]

Those cake things are amazing, where the hell did you find 'em?

You could stand to learn a bit of subtlety, you know.

[ It's there in hers, too. That one-two punch from earlier that she thought was her being subtle has all but dissipated. She's more than glad, though to ignore the blossoming feeling in her chest, like sparklers going off and trickling throughout her. ]

Oh! I made them. It's, ah, been a while. So I was a little worried they might end up soggy or with bad texture. [ She nearly stumbles around her words. ] Figured if I'm going to do something nice it should have meaning behind it.

Why?

[no, really, Jill, what's the point of that? he doesn't get it]

You ... you made them? Seriously? Holy cow. You cook like that all the time, or just when yer sendin' me notes I fuck up on responding to?

Funnier that way.

[ She has her priorities sorted out, obviously. Although a little subtlety can be charming, too, she's not going to say that. ]

Occasionally, yeah. Kind of hard when you spend so much time traveling. [ She pauses before offering more clarification. ] My father had one of those small early morning bakeries, the sort that closes around noon whenever it sold out.

[ She can only disregard his actual question and a real answer for so long. ]

I was kind of an avoidant asshole. It's an... apology. Like I said, I don't... talk about myself or the past a lot -- never, actually. I shut down on you. I'll make it up to you if you'll let me.

Edited 2018-07-02 23:06 (UTC)

IC Inbox for empatheias

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