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AMY

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[begot]

[ The fuse goes out.

In bed, she pushes the tension out of her body, stretching her bare legs out over the sheets, letting out a steady stream of breath in tandem with the faint rustling of the duvet.

Okay. Good enough. ]

what do you want to know?

[scathe]

[roza saw him sweet as softened clay, a boy molded to his surroundings by everyone who stepped within ten feet of him. he had trouble with talking then, too, but for different reasons. elias didn't – couldn't – speak for himself and hid behind his brother. looking someone in the eyes had also been difficult, but being around her taught him how to see.

and boy, does he see. he likes to say how much and when. he catches the girls at the studio out his peripheral and keeps them there. he clocks isolde, amy, gwen, buffy, jem. roza is a permanence while the others stick out to him only because he's spoken to them. but day in and day out amy shows and turns a switch on or off like how his switch goes on or off and maybe it's her experience, and how tired he is and the world, but he senses similarity. familiarity.

roza might say something about that, and elias might say how he should have paid more attention in school when he was there.]

you don't look at me the same

why.

[what happened to you to make you see me differently?]

[begot]

[ What happened to you?

That's the million dollar question, isn't it? Maybe there's an answer, to do with Rand and Marybeth's merciless plundering of their only child's upbringing, or maybe there isn't.

Maybe a viper is born a viper.

But Amazing Amy doesn't see herself that way. So it takes her a moment to mull over the question (to decide if he means the same as you used to or the same as other people do) before typing out an answer, one that works, one that's given because it's nearly three in the morning and he's reaching a hand out through the darkness. ]

great expectations, maybe.
placed on me, i mean.

[ A stranger answer than a singular turning point. Tissue paper, in comparison with what he's been through, but a pinprick can change a story as much as a blade buried to the hilt. Then, more tellingly: ]

what about you?

[ Why don't you see what other people see, when they look at me? ]

cw allusions to abuse

[scathe]

[amy answers in a somewhat stereotypical manner. this perfect-seeming woman had too many expectations, too much attention, too much love, and that screwed her over. elias doesn't fill in the blanks very well for her or for himself.]

low expectations and really really high ones

[forced on me. he doesn't say he was killed in a hit and run as a teen and got such a bad head injury the world started to get blurry and he doesn't remember pieces, or that he was taken to a facility and experimented on by merciless hands.]

a lot of bullshit

[begot]

[ The thing is, better that he see her like that — even if she's spent most of her life balking at the label of spoiled rich girl — than— not the truth, exactly, but the parts of herself that could be called mean. And it matters less that he might think of her that way when he still answers her question, defying her expectations.

One good deed for another. ]

i'm sorry.

[ And she means it as much as she can mean it, when she doesn't yet have further context, when she's only known him for about a month. ]

at least it's not here.

[ The bullshit. The people behind it. The place. Or she'd know, she expects — he wouldn't be spending his time at the gym, at the very least. ]

[scathe]

don't give me your sorry

[as in, he has had enough of those already. 'sorry' doesn't fix the hatred brewing, the pain layered and layered, crafting him into someone else. sorry is another word that doesn't do any good or bad and he'd rather take silence.]

if it's not one thing it'll be another, Amy. Don't get your hopes up.

[begot]

[ A part of her wants to say too late, when she can't unsend the text, or even it's better than being given nothing at all, but he's practically allergic to both approaches, so she skips it entirely. Accommodation for accommodation, maybe, when he's stopped swearing at her. ]

i'll try.

[ Typed out with a dubiousness that gets lost over text, though she's never been an optimist to begin with (when don't let yours fall too far down isn't the next response she reaches for). ]

still not going to tell me why you're awake?

[scathe]

[in an act of unnecessary defiance:]

are you?

[begot]

[ Without even a moment's hesitation: ]

i'm awake because of you.

[scathe]

[blame filters in his direction, but it's the gentle kind that doesn't hurt. it's the kind that whispers, you mattered enough for me to stay awake. only, elias never knows whether that's a truth or a lie, so he has to ask:]

sure
why do you care that I'm awake?

[begot]

[ There are probably, she thinks, a right and wrong answer to this question. She mulls it over, less in any attempt to sidestep the truth than to figure out what won't be too open to misinterpretation over text. ]

because that's what knowing people is.

[ Not because we're friends, when they don't know each other that well, not really. Instead, you mattered, the answer he's suspected, in slightly different words. ]

going to keep answering my questions with questions?

[scathe]

[he stares at the screen for so long it goes dark and all that's left is the reminder of light in his skull. knowing people. elias doesn't let people know him, but he knows people.]

going to keep trying to know me?

[begot]

[ She's not sure what to make of that pause. Takes a shorter one, herself, to mentally summon and then dismiss a few kneejerk responses. ]

going to keep being annoying? 🫢

[scathe]

[immediately:] yep

[begot]

wow, finally a straight answer.

[scathe]

go to sleep Amy

[begot]

[ i'm going to but not because you told me to.gif ]

see you around, elias.