My dear, we're slow dancing in a burning room
"That isn't what I said, Jata. I didn't talk to her about the fire. I didn't even see her. When I met her in Halo we only talked business and about the Halenani. So you're right, I don't know her like you do, but I never presumed to." Maeve replies evenly, not pushing him more than she already has, instead letting him snap and snarl all he wants. It hurts, that he's lashing out at her like this, hurts even more when he doesn't stop. When he keeps digging and digging and digging, making her heart ache as Aidon curls around her protectively, trying to offer any sort of comfort he can.
She stays quiet for some time, letting the heat of his words settle between them, swallowing past the tightness in her throat as she refuses to let his words get to her. He can be mad. It's fine. He's hurt and she's an easy target. He's like a wounded animal, lashing out at anything and everything, even the person trying to help.
Maeve takes a shaky breath, closing her eyes as the sting of tears starts to fade, shaking her head, "That's fine, Jata. Darkness, blood, ash... We're all going to suffer from it. Maybe you'll suffer more because that's just how life works, right? The whole of existence is out for Sunjata Wrenzaok the Flood and governor of Torchline. No one else in this entire fucking world matters beyond him." She laughs, the sound sharp and bitter, reaching up to wipe roughly at her eyes. She doesn't care about the sand that she gets on her skin or the way it scratches at her, serving to irritate her more, unable to find it in her to bother wiping it away.
"You know, I care about you. I really do. I fucking care about you even though it isn't my job to. So go ahead and yell and rage and push me away. It's fine. I'm not going anywhere. Not really. Because I'm your friend and despite what you might think, you need people on your side." Maeve chances a glance at him, knowing that she's not going to find anything there other than his anger, but she'll take it.
She stays quiet for some time, letting the heat of his words settle between them, swallowing past the tightness in her throat as she refuses to let his words get to her. He can be mad. It's fine. He's hurt and she's an easy target. He's like a wounded animal, lashing out at anything and everything, even the person trying to help.
Maeve takes a shaky breath, closing her eyes as the sting of tears starts to fade, shaking her head, "That's fine, Jata. Darkness, blood, ash... We're all going to suffer from it. Maybe you'll suffer more because that's just how life works, right? The whole of existence is out for Sunjata Wrenzaok the Flood and governor of Torchline. No one else in this entire fucking world matters beyond him." She laughs, the sound sharp and bitter, reaching up to wipe roughly at her eyes. She doesn't care about the sand that she gets on her skin or the way it scratches at her, serving to irritate her more, unable to find it in her to bother wiping it away.
"You know, I care about you. I really do. I fucking care about you even though it isn't my job to. So go ahead and yell and rage and push me away. It's fine. I'm not going anywhere. Not really. Because I'm your friend and despite what you might think, you need people on your side." Maeve chances a glance at him, knowing that she's not going to find anything there other than his anger, but she'll take it.
Maeve
