[There's a petty satisfaction in throwing his own words back at him. She's tired of being the only one tied in knots, unable to tell up from down, unsure what to do or how to feel. Now it's his turn. (There's always the risk -- the extreme probability -- that the end result will just hurt her worse. But she'd rather take the pain than run from it.)
This time she does slam the device shut. Rolls over to stare up at the ceiling, but any hope of sleep is gone. Sighing, she pushes herself out of bed and heads outside to where Naga is sleeping. She doesn't want to be alone with her thoughts.]
[ That's the word that flits through Hei's mind as she shuts the device off. ]
[ A big. Fucking. Mess. ]
[ He's honed the art of making sure another person's nonsense doesn't mix with his own (which is, in fact, shorthand for honed the art of detachment). But polished as it is, it's never going to be perfect. Worse, it feels like the skill is deteriorating hour by hour -- atrophied by weeks of oozing tranquility and easy routines. Glowering, he tosses the device away, with the same instinctual recoil from anything that might jar a bruise. Old enough to make up your own mind. Too fucking right. If he has any sense, he'll contact her again tomorrow Arrange for a meeting face-to-face. And terminate their little fling. Once and for all. ]
[ But then there would be an implication that the card bothered him, that he felt neck-deep in this suffocating sentimental bullshit, that there was something further than sex in the works between them. Yet he didn't want that implication to exist. ]
[ Too bad, as he's said already, denial's lost its charm. ]
Private ψ
[There's a petty satisfaction in throwing his own words back at him. She's tired of being the only one tied in knots, unable to tell up from down, unsure what to do or how to feel. Now it's his turn. (There's always the risk -- the extreme probability -- that the end result will just hurt her worse. But she'd rather take the pain than run from it.)
This time she does slam the device shut. Rolls over to stare up at the ceiling, but any hope of sleep is gone. Sighing, she pushes herself out of bed and heads outside to where Naga is sleeping. She doesn't want to be alone with her thoughts.]
Private ψ
[ That's the word that flits through Hei's mind as she shuts the device off. ]
[ A big. Fucking. Mess. ]
[ He's honed the art of making sure another person's nonsense doesn't mix with his own (which is, in fact, shorthand for honed the art of detachment). But polished as it is, it's never going to be perfect. Worse, it feels like the skill is deteriorating hour by hour -- atrophied by weeks of oozing tranquility and easy routines. Glowering, he tosses the device away, with the same instinctual recoil from anything that might jar a bruise. Old enough to make up your own mind. Too fucking right. If he has any sense, he'll contact her again tomorrow Arrange for a meeting face-to-face. And terminate their little fling. Once and for all. ]
[ But then there would be an implication that the card bothered him, that he felt neck-deep in this suffocating sentimental bullshit, that there was something further than sex in the works between them. Yet he didn't want that implication to exist. ]
[ Too bad, as he's said already, denial's lost its charm. ]