[It does seem like an age ago at this point. It was just a few weeks ago. So much has happened between then and now, and yet somehow that dream still felt crucial for them both — even if it ended less than, ah, pleasantly.]
Pieces of it, yes. How it manifests if we were theoretically to visit my subconscious mind instead.
[A mindscape is not necessarily a memory, after all. The pieces of his old home in his mind are purposefully broken and unwelcoming.]
But I would show you how it actually was before it fell into disrepair.
[Alec saying such things... It makes Henry want to guarantee that he'll always be near. Always beside him, like now. His fingers flex in a gentle squeeze around his hand, as though to cement him there with the gesture.]
I hated that place. I never thought of it as home, not really.
[And yet it's still important to him. It's why it still exists, ravaged, in his mindscape.]
But it's still an important place in my memories. And I want to show you everything important to me.
[ Though he has no way to know exactly what Henry is thinking, he returns that small squeeze without so much as a second thought. It feels so utterly selfish to want to stay close like this, to seek out little moments of contact and gestures of affection, but what are they both if not selfish creatures? Were it anyone else but Henry next to him, Alec might think he doesn't deserve this kind of warmth.
Because it is Henry, it's perfect. A pair of broken pieces, sticking together. ]
Everything, huh? [ Seems like a tall order, but there's already so much he knows about Henry. He'd be lying if he said he didn't want to know more. ] I'd like that.
[All the ugly pieces. The parts where they align more perfectly than the rest. He still has a few skeletons in his closet; not that he ever feels the need to hide anything from Alec anymore, anyway.
But maybe some other time.]
Something to look forward to. But for now, I'd like to focus on this place. Your home, and this frankly impressive river.
[ much like with Henry, Sprezzatura's method for apologizing to Alec starts with accidentally being in the same area as him, catching sight in the corner of her eye and feeling that awful, ugly swoop. wherever this is, she once more forces herself to move, but not too close—she doesn't figure anyone who met the oni are going to want her too close right now. not until she's proven herself back in control. ]
[ Probably around the diner somewhere, it's one of Alec's usual haunts. The corner of the roof is still singed from that stray lightning bolt. Bet that feels good, huh?
He's looking pretty okay, all things considered. Not even a limp, thanks to Ori. He goes noticeably still when she calls his name, turning slowly to face her. ]
Well now. Long time no see. Assuming you're the woman herself, of course.
she very nearly dodges his gaze when it eventually comes. it's only the repetition of always ending up in this position that gives her the backbone to meet what's coming to her. ]
Mister Brennan. [ why would she call him "Alec"? why would she say that? ] She is quieted again. You saw to that.
[ Well, she does sound more like herself. He's still watching her with some hint of wariness, but no more than he would have given her before the oni stuff. ]
Nice to know a little oxygen depravation was all it took. Can I help you with something?
[ she half-expects him to. just half, maybe not even quite, but "half" is still enough to feel the letdown. so when the ask doesn't come, she tells herself not too chafe against its absence too badly—but it does chafe. she'd really wanted this to be ... anything.
[ very... casual of him. the apology she'd been gearing up to give stumbles like getting ready for a running leap only for the ground to come up short ]
Yes. [ stilted ] For that. I am sorry she found you compelling target.
At last, he wanders a bit closer, hands in his pockets. The look on his face is mild, unbothered even. His words are anything but. ]
Look, real talk? You're not exactly my favorite person at the moment. And that was before your oni thought it'd be fun to try and hit me around like a baseball.
[ so she isn't the most perceptive. she isn't insightful. and honestly, more often than not, she says exactly the wrong thing for any given situation before she says the right one. but what Sprezzatura isn't is a total idiot. she knows what it looks like when someone's had enough of her.
before she's even figured out what to say, she's taken half a step back, turned herself slightly so she isn't facing him dead-on. like subconsciously trying to protect a weak point.
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