๐ก๐ฒ๐ต๐ฎ๐ ๐ฆ๐ฒ๐ต๐ต๐ฒ๐ช๐ถ๐ผ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
isawallflower) wrote2020-11-01 10:20 pm
isawallflower) wrote2020-11-01 10:20 pm
Entry tags:
RYSLIG; ic inbox
WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, CHEERYCHERRY. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 019.46.820.17 *** CHEERYCHERRY has joined 019.46.820.17 <CHEERYCHERRY> It's Riley! <CHEERYCHERRY> Please leave a message! <CHEERYCHERRY> Please be someone with their priorities sorted out properly! | ||||
main: CheeryCherry
anonymous: panthera, aed
retired: gflynn (anon)
no subject
[Quiet, thoughtful. He doesn't sound offended because he isn't. This whole conversation has gone in a way he didn't expect, but he's starting to think that was his error, his lack of caution. You could always stay, there are plenty of rooms; his wording was muddied, regardless of his intentions. And it's not as though he doesn't know this sort of thing happens. It's one of the reasons, though not the main one, he always kept himself so distant.]
I think I see what I did wrong. My phrasing was poor. I was excited to see you and that you liked the garden, so I wasn't very conscious or careful about it. I'll be more careful in the future.
[That isn't enough, though. Considering the garden before him in a distant way, he thinks about . . . a lot of things. The way the others stared at Trish as though she was an alien when she first showed up. How hard Narancia worked to understand. The way she screamed at Bucciarati on the ground beside the train, furious and frightened. His expression is complicated.]
I don't know if I can explain this correctly. It's easy to say that I don't do that kind of thing, and it doesn't mean very much, because those are just words. Mm, to me, having friends is new and . . . difficult to navigate. I don't think I would have the right to keep trying if I used friendship to manipulate someone like that.
[With a slight frown, he turns to look at her again.]
I don't know that that made sense. Riley, the people who did what you're talking about are assholes who don't deserve to share space or oxygen with you. In a just universe, they would be here and you would be back home. Since that's not the universe we're working with, please understand that I would rather die than pull something like that. It's cowardly.
cw: intrusive thoughts, parental neglect mentions
[ She starts, but...but trails off. Riley knows, more or less, how to navigate high school. She hates it. Hates it. But, she knows what people expect, what to keep quiet about, how not to make waves. She knows how to smile, pretty and cheerful, to avoid unwanted attention. But...this isn't high school. And Giorno, he doesn't act anything like the other kids at Giles Corey High. That's...good, right?
It should be good. High school is, paradoxically, what Riley hates and what she needs. She's spent so long trying to figure out how to get through life, as a kid, that life outside the structure of school, even as far as college— it terrifies her. She knows what to expect from other high school kids. She knows how to deal with them.
But, Giorno... He's something completely different, isn't he? I was excited to see you— has anyone ever been excited to see her? Truly, actually excited? Anyone except... Except Cairo.
A gnawing pit in her stomach. The voice in her mind hisses, that she's going to ruin this, like she ruined that. It hisses that he's going to ruin this, like Cairo ruined that. She wants to- to disappear, to scream, to not hear these kind, unnecessary words. Like how Giorno's thinking, she's also thinking. About an older boy telling her she could walk home, then. About getting Cairo's voicemail and hanging up before saying anything. About trying to actually talk to her mom, voice shaky and eyes teary, and getting a half-drunk response she'd become accustom to, not now, Riley. mom's had a long day, Riley.
She sits, quietly, and listens. Even ventures a glance, at one point. She's not sure she's ever felt unbalanced in this way. She's not sure if the warm feeling inside her is from her unnecessary coat or...something else. Something she doesn't hate. ]
Thank you. [ She ends up mumbling. Even though something screams in her brain, that that's bad. But... But he's seen her do a lot worse than mumble, and he didn't judge her then, did he? ] I'm... I still- it's a little...too much, a whole...house, in the ground, and...a lot of people I don't...I don't know, [ as she rambles, the words get clearer, more together, louder, ] and, please don't actually die, I'd really- really not like that, I didn't- really mean to, talk about any of this, I just wanted to- give you your gift and—
[ The gift.
All at once, she withdraws her hand from the frayed bandage. All at once, eyes up, she snatches the gift bag from her lap and holds it out to him. That's why she came here, in the first place. ]
I got you something. [ ...Obviously. But, still, she pushes on. ] And...made... Just take it okay?
[ Everything about her posture, the way she holds eye contact for about two seconds before dropping it, the way she grips the handles of the bag with both hands: It communicates that she's not used to this. Her heart hammers in her chest, but...but she's here. That has to count, for something. ]
no subject
[Or at least he used to think so. He doubts sometimes these days. It's because of Mista, mostly; because of things said that he could never have predicted because there is no one else in the world who says the things that Mista does. Erina has startled him a few times, too. But this . . .]
[This is mundane. A courtesy. He gave her a gift, or technically two. Usually gifts are exchanged, not given in only one direction. This is something he knows in theory. Something he should have expected.]
[He didn't.]
[She is holding a bag out to him, he realizes, the words she's saying falling over each other in his mind. Tripping. His expression opens, just a crack in the veneer at first before everything falls away and there is only Giorno, startled and tentative and just a little bit afraid.]
You got me . . .
[Because she tells him to take it, he takes it, hands cupping the bottom of the bag as though holding the world's most fragile egg. Pulls it close against his chest, looks up at her, wide-eyed and vulnerable.]
Why . . . ?
no subject
'Cause...
[ She starts to trail off, biting her lip in thought. Because she felt obligated? Because it felt right? Because it was her first gut impulse, after discovering the small cornucopia of objects he'd given her?
No, there's a really simple answer. ]
Because you're my friend.
[ A simple answer that squeezes at her heart. ]
no subject
[But Riley tells him that he is her friend, and despite everything, he believes her. It makes him smile, a soft and tentative expression pointed first at her and then at the bag, which he loosens his hold on just enough that he can look at it properly.]
That's right. We're friends.
[Friends exchange gifts. So this is . . . normal. Maybe.]
[Tentatively, he pokes at the paper.] It's okay if I open it? [Agonizing.]
no subject
It's also unfamiliar, because the only friend she's had to exchange gifts with is Cairo. How...terrifying, this is. Still, she gives a small nod. ]
It's for you so, of course it's okay! [ A small, miniscule amount of pep, forced into her voice to make herself feel a bit less awkward. It doesn't quite work. ]
...But, it's- it's okay, if you don't like it, I mean— I didn't really- I'm not very- I didn't really know, what to buy, but, I thought, maybe...you'd like this...
[ Her rambles start to trail off, and, when Giorno opens the gift bag, he'll find something wrapped in tissue paper, on top of a kitschy tin. The tin itself holds gingersnaps that earlier today would've been freshly made, had she not spent hours looking for the other gift.
That he'll find is...a broach, shaped like a dragonfly. ]
no subject
[This is different. And there's more to it than the gingersnaps, his mind doing calculations of mass and size as he looks in the bag and sees a small wrapped item, not nearly big enough to be the weight that's resting on his knees.]
[Cautiously, he pulls it out of the bag and unwraps the tissue paper with the care of someone defusing a bomb. His expression brightens when he sees color, brightens further when he sees shine, and once he's unwrapped it entirely—]
Riley!
[A breathless, delighted exclamation as he holds the dragonfly in both hands, staring down at it to capture every tiny detail. He rub his thumbs along the wings, fascinated by their texture.]
This is beautiful! Where did you — this is perfect. You remembered that?
[The conversation, that is. But of course she does. He does, too, because he made her laugh, even if it was by accident.]
no subject
Oh, he looks...so happy. So bright that she almost can't look at him.
Her own little smile freezes on her face, but in a rare moment, she hasn't forced it there. Riley feels a burst of relief spread through her, all that horrible tension that's been working her muscles into knots washing away. ]
It's- really not that much, I just- I didn't have it specifically in mind, it was just, well, yes, of course I remembered it, it...stuck out, and the stall I visited, they were closing and I didn't really know what other animals you might like, and... You really like it?
[ Cairo's always cool, in control. Rarely wearing her heart on her sleeve like this. It means the gift exchanges they've had, usually Riley's the cheery, excited one, and Cairo's down-to-earth. Making her friend smile, it's always been an accomplishment, but... Sometimes, sometimes Riley's wondered if she ever appreciates any of her gifts. Sometimes... She feels more than a little desperate for validation.
It makes this moment stand out. It makes her acutely aware of how nice this feels, and— and how overwhelming it is.
She stands quickly. To stretch. Sitting feels like she has too much energy in her. Feels like she's going to burst. ]
no subject
[His voice, quiet but practically vibrating with enthusiasm, is different from anything sheโs heard from him yet. Similar to the excited chattering from earlier, but still not quite the same. Heโs delighted, but more than that, heโs — awed. Riley tries to downplay it, to make it seem as though this isnโt anything special, but no matter what she does, heโs never going to see it that way.]
[Thereโs an incomprehensible difference between zero and one. That the brooch in his hand even exists is whatโs shocking, not the details.]
[He runs his thumb over the jeweled back, back and forth, again and again. Smiling.]
. . . I learned that I like that part of giving gifts. Looking until something catches your eye and it feels right. Thatโs how — the ribbons were purposeful, but the knife caught me in the same way. It seemed like something you should have.
[Glancing up at the sudden motion of her standing, he looks faintly quizzical, but too pleased still to be distracted.]
Thank you. Itโs perfect, I mean that.
no subject
[ He even sounds happy...! This is a different feeling, from giving a gift to Cairo. Riley has to sit with it, to try and understand it. She can't right now. And...and hearing he found something...thinking specifically of her...
It fills her up with all that warmth. Too much warmth. Such...
Riley unzips the coat. She lowers her arms, and surprisingly? It slips off rather easily.
There, emerging from her right shoulder blade, is a petite wing, reaching the length of her back. It's completely feathered, orange and reds, some black on the back. She's wearing but a simple shoulderless shirt, to give it room to breathe. It shows off all the orange feathers on her shoulders, on her elbows, everything she's been trying so incredibly hard to conceal.
Her wing stretches out. It's nowhere near big enough for her to fly with, even if she did have a second one. But it's there. A little piece of her. A new one. On display. ]
...You're...very, very welcome, Giorno. Merry Christmas.
[ With just this little action... This is probably the best Christmas she's ever had. ]