touchedinthehead | Impatience

Aldaras doesn't bring up the knife with Annie again, nor his sister, or various ways she could be hurt. Annie has homework, so she doesn't stay at his apartment too long. He goes back to having nothing to do - there's some more pacing, some quiet freaking out over Annie and her safety, and then he distracts himself with obsessive preparation for taking care of the knife.

He'll - pack with the assumption that he can save his sister. There's lots of non-perishable food, packing as much as possible with the least amount of weight. Water, too, but that one's a bit harder. It's always heavy. Whatever, that's fine, he'll just - obsessively pack some more things. Pack, pack, pack.

Predictably, he runs out of things to do. Except think. Which has become something of a minefield, lately. To keep him from doing something stupid. He can't think about Zevaia, can't think about the knife, can't think about the Dean and how insanely long it's taking him to get the smallest tidbits of information out of him. He can't think too much about obsessive ways to make sure Annie's safe, for fear of becoming some kind of psychotic, controlling stalker or something.

But trying to not think about Annie is a recipe for failure or insanity, so he distracts himself with - what ifs. What would have happened if he'd met her without the necklace's and tracker's side effects combination, what he would have done if she'd asked him to kiss her...

That helps the time pass by faster.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

touchedinthehead

"You don't look leafy at all. Also I have no comment on your ability to cook soup, I've never actually tried your cooking, please don't become soup, I would be heartbroken. Whether or not you would actually be nice in soup form."

keep_busy

"I can cook a little, but I'm not nearly magical enough to successfully soupify myself."

"Good, I like you how you are."

"I am aware."

"I do try to be transparent with you," says Aldaras, affectionately.

cut_and_dried

"Aww," snarks Zevaia. "I can hear the wedding bells already. Want me to go grab you two some condoms? I'll even shoo from the apartment, be all helpful and shit."

"I literally just verbally gave him standing permission to hug me, minutes ago, while you were present. Hugs tend to precede the need for condoms by a large margin. We aren't even dating. Why did that seem like a constructive suggestion?"

"I'm basically just being obnoxious? It's not a huge deal?"

"Zevaia," says Aldaras, tightly, like he's having trouble breathing or he's - oh. That's guilt. "Out, please."

"Leaving."

And then she is out of the apartment in record time.

"Are you okay?"

"Nnnh. Not really."

He gives the ceiling a very dark glare, as if his problem is it's fault.

"Really," he sighs, to no one in particular. "That's salient information? Really?!"

"I don't suppose there's any precedent of previously supposedly-salient information subsiding into irrelevance if I say the magic words or something."

"No," he grumbles. (Guilt, guilt, guilt) "Sorry. Thank you, though."

He takes a deep breath, and then explains with a bit of a hiss, "It. Is apparently important for you to know that, if you were to proposition me, I'd accept in a heartbeat."