4.1

[sighsheavily]

I can't believe this... I actually like these.

[these being reference to what clothes she's picked at within the room they're holed in for hours indeterminate. she's pulled on a pastel gown and finished fiddling with the fiddlier bits, smoothing out the drapery in front of the floor-length mirror.]

The color is a shame, and I doubt this'd be of use if I get dropped in that bloody maze again, but still...

[it's nice. it feels nice! no more denim and excess buttons...

gads, the rhinestones making cactus blossom patters are kind of tacky, though. she oughtn't complain; it's a step in the right direction.]

Comments

[forgeabettertomorrow]

[Darin watches her with his chin resting firmly in his palm with a wistful smile on his face. Watching Cecelia actually get to be happy for a change was literally soothing his very soul.]

[He'd managed to find some clothes he liked himself. Some leather trousers, a tight, black, linen shirt, and white vest with some pale blue accents. Across the back was an embroidered and rhinestone trimmed image of a mesa with a setting sun. A little gaudy but he liked the image.]

You...really look beautiful. I'll miss the look you had a bit, though. You looked liked a pretty librarian. Now you're like...a goddess? A sage? Something noble, for sure.

[sighsheavily]

[she scoffs lightly, her face coloring as she catches glimpse of him in the reflection behind her.]

What librarians do you recall wearing such tacky things, actually? You've not mentioned those particular memories.

[forgeabettertomorrow]

Oh come on, you looked good in that denim skirt, even if you didn't like it.

I think it helps that you're really pretty.

[sighsheavily]

Well if you miss it, that's too bad for you; I'd rather never see it again, thank you.

[she turns, still pink-cheeked, and smiles small at him with a creased brow.]

No more compliments for a bit, either; you know how I get.

[forgeabettertomorrow]

Man, this really is a living nightmare. I can't tell my girlfriend how beautiful I think she is. I don't know if I'll survive!

[He pretends to playfully wilt and falls to the floor with a big, stupid thud.]

Truly, this is the worst place imaginable...!

[sighsheavily]

[she clicks her tongue, moving to stand and loom overhead, hands on her hips, head tilted.]

Girlfriend sounds infantilizing, doesn't it? I'm not a girl. Neither are you just a boy!

What happened to 'partners'? I liked that. [and it makes her want to not curl up and die. just curl up and scream giddy.]

[forgeabettertomorrow]

'Partners' is nice...but doesn't it lack...I don't know.

Intimacy?

...Significant other?

[sighsheavily]

Awful number of syllables. Imagine having to spit that out on a whim. And other terms are a bit too...mm. [her eyes wince.] Well, it just opens the door to busybodies and teasing, you know! I've no patience for that.

[forgeabettertomorrow]

Okay, okay. I can't really think of anything nicer than 'partners' anyway. So we'll stick with that.

[He liked calling her his girlfriend though.]

[sighsheavily]

[his fault for being involved with such a flighty broad.

she hums a faint, acknowledging sound, her gaze trailing off while she stands there.]

It will...take time. Hearing. Accepting. For my reactions to temper, gods willing.

It must be that epitaph, or the rules or whatever it all entails, that has me so on edge about...accepting anything for myself.

Unless I am naturally this tightly wound, in which case, gads. [huff.]

[forgeabettertomorrow]

It could be a combination of both...?

But...I understand. I'll try and temper my affections.

[sighsheavily]

[well don't do that, she almost says, but catches herself.

she huffs, stepping away, over toward a window.]

Patient as ever... Thank you.

[forgeabettertomorrow]

[He sits up, laughing.]

Hey come on, I'm impatient enough when it comes to acting, I can at least show some restraint with you.

[sighsheavily]

So long as you think it a good thing to do, yes. [she peers outside, squinting, trying to search out shapes in the hedges.] But if I become a hindrance, that will have to be contested, naturally...

[forgeabettertomorrow]

...Okay, actually? That's something I do want to talk about.

You know how you don't like it when I call myself a 'monster' or something? You...use a lot of negative language when talking about yourself. Saying things like 'becoming a hindrance' and things like that.

...You're a person, Cecelia. We might argue but you make it sound like...like you're an obstacle and not a person with valid feelings.

[sighsheavily]

[her ear twitches at the start of the topic, feeling a clench in her stomach. as he talks, she glances over her shoulder his way, brow still creased.

like an obstacle.

...hm.]

I'm aware. [now, at least. and unconsciously, sure. but measuring worth of self versus others has a clear and predetermined victor, it seems.] Though I can't say I catch the sense of negativity like you may in the moment. Perhaps in hindsight?

[it's like stating facts, somehow. or just being used to taking herself out of the narrative.]

[forgeabettertomorrow]

That...doesn't make it better. Even if it's in hindsight, you can't do anything about it.

I just wish your opinion of yourself was...more forgiving.

[sighsheavily]

[her mouth curves up just faintly, apologetically.]

We’ve both work to do in that regard, I think. Mm?

[forgeabettertomorrow]

Hey, I'll have you know that I think I'm pretty amazing most of the time~

[sighsheavily]

[she Squints.]

Is that so.

[forgeabettertomorrow]

What, you can't see it? Do I need to give you some kind of demonstration~?

[sighsheavily]

[her mouth twitches, unable to keep from smiling at least a little bit before turning her head to look back outside.]

You are rather remarkable, it's true...

[forgeabettertomorrow]

[He moves behind her to wrap his arms around her waist.]

It...helps that you say things like that. It keeps the dark thoughts from taking hold.

As confident as I am, knowing there's someone who believes in me that much...it gives me strength, y'know?

[sighsheavily]

[she shifts her focus to the dim reflection of themselves, easing into the hold bit by bit despite the relentless tingling at her shoulders.

looking down, she gingerly touches at one of the scars on his forearm.]

I don't mind being that reminder. [because she's not the source; she can't move him for himself, but if her voice can encourage him to try...that's worthy work, isn't it?

familiar work.]

[forgeabettertomorrow]

You've come a fair way yourself.

I can remember a time when even me touching your shoulders had you recoiling.