wroughtandtempered | SEASONS

Hey, Eve? If you're not busy, could I come over and do another emotionshare thing?

[She sounds uncharacteristically nervous.]

I need to, um. Peer review an emotion, I guess.

Yeah, of course? Fuck, even if I was busy I could yeet it.

[ ...peer review an emotion... ]

...you okay?

...No, but if I go into it now I'll wimp out on actually coming over. I'll be there in fifteen.

[Fifteen minutes later, knock knock knock. Evangeline looks uncharacteristically unsettled.]

...Okay.

[ once she gets there, there's a little pause before Eve answers the door— she'd spent that fifteen minutes with thumbs to make drinks and get snacks and shit, but as soon as her time's up, back to beast form she goes. ]

Hey. C'mon upstairs, I got shit set up for maximum cozy.

Thanks. Cozy sounds really good right about now.

[Up to Eve's room to make herself comfortable.]

It sounded like it might be.

[ she's dragged up a bean bag and several blankets (including the weighted one Choco-chan made for her), there are cookies and a tea set out (though Eve's opted for a shallower bowl over a mug), and also a tissue box set discreetly to the side. she remembers last time!

once Evangeline's settled, Eve winds herself into a loose curve around her. ]

Okay. So. What's going on?

[Leeaaan. Evangeline avoids looking at her face.]

...So, basically... Somebody told me that I love my friends and I'm in denial about it. Which - okay, if that's true, that's fucking terrifying, but also, I'm genuinely not sure I could tell at this point if what I feel is love?

So I thought - well, maybe Eve can look at my feelings and be like 'that's love, moron' and then at least I'd know for sure.

[ ...

what if she could somehow get the City evacuated of people and then set the whole thing on fire and force everyone to start over, but less shitty this time. Huw's fucking mercy. ]

...Okay. First of all, I wouldn't call you a moron. That's reserved for idiots who are also assholes, and you're not one of those. You're just someone who has had really fucking good reason to try to put that kind of feeling in lockdown.

But— yeah, I can do that.

Okay - okay. [Trying not to get choked up before they've even started.] Thanks. I'm - ready whenever.

[ tongueflicks

then picks up the box of tissues and tosses it into Eva's lap. fuck discreet, that's obviously gonna be needed. ]

Okay. ...I'm probably going to be kind of pissy? So just to be really fucking clear, that's not at you, it's at the shithole you had to live in.

[ she's already wearing the bracelet, so it's just a matter of thought to activate it. the link between them unfurls into place, and—

while on Eve's side there's mostly worry, and a conscious effort for gentleness, there is in fact also the sandpaper-scratch of protective irritation. she's mad! ]

[For all that she's afraid, she does try her best to focus on her feelings about Eve. She's asked for help, so she has to give Eve the opportunity to help her.

How does she feel about Eve? Admiration, certainly. A sense of safety, comfort, trust. Affection, as natural as breathing. A desire to support and to help when that's needed. The warmth and relief of being with another person who makes your life better.

Does that add up to love? She wouldn't know.]

[ that prickly frustration-irritation settles as Eve puts her head down and starts picking through that, but—

while some emotions are difficult for her to sort out, affection isn't one of them. ]

...Like and love are sort of on the same spectrum of feeling. I... fuck. I can't say for you when one turns into the other? But I would say that's definitely on the more intense end. Even if it's not romantic or anything like that.

Would be nice if things were simple and clear, huh.

[Breathe in. Breathe out.]

Okay. Okay, that's... okay. I'm okay.

[ tentatively resting her chin on Eva's knee ]

Sorry. Like— fuck. If it were me I'd say that's love? But— fuck.

[ grumbling in the back of her throat, her feelings one big knot of worry and protectiveness ]

I'm not you, I'm going to feel differently about shit. So I'm not someone who gets to make that kind of decision for you.

If you want to say no, that's just like, that's fine. If you want to put it in a fucking box and not look at it until you're ready, that's fine. If it's really fucking you up, getting help with that part's important, sure? But also: fuck anyone who says you need to try to fucking force it.

[

Ah, yep, here come the tears. Reaching for a tissue now.]

I don't - it scares the shit out of me. Loving people you can lose - it's terrifying.

-But it'd hurt either way if I lost you, whatever I decided to call it, so does it even matter?

[ ...

apologetic (and anxious, and deeply, deeply affectionate in a way that is trying to be steadying): ]

I think that's a better question to ask— maybe a therapist, or something. I think it matters, because how you define shit matters, but that's... it's in a different direction? Than how it matters to know how- how a loss would hit you.

...Grief is the price we pay for joy, is... I think that's how the saying goes? And grief fucking sucks. But if you can manage to look it in the eye, and say "fuck you, that was worth it..."

[ longing. longing, and grief, and resignation, and spite ]

...I don't know. That's how I usually think about it, when the idea comes for me too hard.

[Apologetic, for putting this on her. Shame, for struggling with this to begin with.]

Yeah, that's - therapist stuff. Yeah. But, at least - I'm glad we're friends. I'm glad you're in my life.

[That counts for something, maybe everything.]

[ lifting her head to headbutt Evangeline in the shoulder. reassurance! fuck the shame! ]

Me too.

...Is this, like, the first time I've asked you for help with anything?

[ uhhhh. processing... ]

...I think so? Mostly it's been me asking for shit.

...I know I've asked people for vibe checks relatively recently, after being told specifically that I could ask people for that if I didn't know if something was worth worrying about or not... I know I've vented to people, but usually after being invited to, I don't think I've ever gone to someone like 'can I vent to you'...

The person who brought this up told me that there's a big difference between being able to survive on your own and knowing you have other people you can rely on. And it's not, like. It's not like I think if I asked, people wouldn't help? It's just-

Fuck. I don't know what I'm trying to say anymore.

[ oh. oh. the feeling of a lightbulb going off, and a flicker of nostalgia ]

No, I get it, I think. I... I've gotten better? At asking? But I still— I usually don't for anything that's actually important.

Asking's a vulnerability. And if you ask, and someone says "no"...

[ she trails off, and leaves the sentence there. ]

[Relief at being understood, coupled with more frustration about the topic in general.]

Asking's a vulnerability. And - usually I don't even think to ask. I don't think 'oh, I have friends who care about me, I don't have to do this alone'. I just take care of it myself automatically.

That too. It was— a resource? You got used to not having. Why would you think about it?

Yeah! Exactly! And I don't... I'm not...

[...mrrr.]

I want to say 'if I really needed it I would ask for help'. But I genuinely don't know if that's true.

SEASONS - IC INBOX

like a week post-dreamwalking, voice

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