[ What else is she supposed to say about him? Jaime knows. Maybe not a brother, or a sibling by blood, but he's lost his friends here. He's lost his family, here. She felt the familiar ache of it in that recipe card, and she feels the echo of it now, like the singe that comes from sitting in a dark room and staring too long at the flames of too many candles. It hurts, but she expected it. She has regrets, but they're the same regrets as always, the seesaw of action and inaction, of speech and silence, and never choosing right.
She wonders, with a hollow sort of hurt she can never speak aloud, if it was the burdensome weight of her trauma in that catastrophe that broke the tether. If her tremors, and her nightmares, her jittery paranoia, the ever-present companion of terror, that chased him back into the void between worlds.
Nobody would agree with that assessment. Nobody would nod their heads, or murmur small yeah, maybes, but it doesn't need to be spoken to be true. Everyone who loves her leaves. Everyone she loves leaves her.
There's nothing to say about that. So, instead, after the long seconds of silent grief, she finally digs her elbow into Jaime's ribs — pressure without force. ]
Just because you never see it doesn't mean I never do it, Jaime. I do it all the time.
[ She's done it to him before, more than once. Hell, she pulled it with Khaji Da, when he came to the forefront. Anyone she's met, anybody she's cared about, she's sure she's done it to them. It's why Mitchell always felt her to be kind of a pain in the ass, even as they commiserate; it's why she and Karkat were always arguing, constantly pulling at the threads and the seams of one another's hearts to unravel them and prove the other's damage. Even before it was proximity, even when it was objects, when it was reading faces and guessing intentions, it's how she always circumvented others' defenses. Hiro, and Nygma, and Mitch, and Blue, and Eridan, and Bruno, and her father...
Learn their heart, and confront them with it; a stalking mirror. ]
We only haven't needed to fight about it. That's all.
no subject
[ What else is she supposed to say about him? Jaime knows. Maybe not a brother, or a sibling by blood, but he's lost his friends here. He's lost his family, here. She felt the familiar ache of it in that recipe card, and she feels the echo of it now, like the singe that comes from sitting in a dark room and staring too long at the flames of too many candles. It hurts, but she expected it. She has regrets, but they're the same regrets as always, the seesaw of action and inaction, of speech and silence, and never choosing right.
She wonders, with a hollow sort of hurt she can never speak aloud, if it was the burdensome weight of her trauma in that catastrophe that broke the tether. If her tremors, and her nightmares, her jittery paranoia, the ever-present companion of terror, that chased him back into the void between worlds.
Nobody would agree with that assessment. Nobody would nod their heads, or murmur small yeah, maybes, but it doesn't need to be spoken to be true. Everyone who loves her leaves. Everyone she loves leaves her.
There's nothing to say about that. So, instead, after the long seconds of silent grief, she finally digs her elbow into Jaime's ribs — pressure without force. ]
Just because you never see it doesn't mean I never do it, Jaime. I do it all the time.
[ She's done it to him before, more than once. Hell, she pulled it with Khaji Da, when he came to the forefront. Anyone she's met, anybody she's cared about, she's sure she's done it to them. It's why Mitchell always felt her to be kind of a pain in the ass, even as they commiserate; it's why she and Karkat were always arguing, constantly pulling at the threads and the seams of one another's hearts to unravel them and prove the other's damage. Even before it was proximity, even when it was objects, when it was reading faces and guessing intentions, it's how she always circumvented others' defenses. Hiro, and Nygma, and Mitch, and Blue, and Eridan, and Bruno, and her father...
Learn their heart, and confront them with it; a stalking mirror. ]
We only haven't needed to fight about it. That's all.