I'M A PICTURE-PERFECT FACE

it’s hard to imagine they’ve reached this point— for SO LONG she’s been at his side, a permanent fixture even while the rest of the world TWISTED & WARPED ; she’s been a CONSTANT, & although 64N6 L34D3R presents STOIC demeanor, internally his heart is BREAKING.

…but this is for HER. although they’ve made a PLACE for her in the undercity, even though she’s found a HOME here, they both know it’s not where she BELONGS—her coming down was an ACCIDENT, a MISTAKE ; he’s come to TREASURE her, but the only way to prove just HOW MUCH is to send her HOME——

words fail to rise, tongue still behind his teeth ; 54M54R4, unwilling to say goodbye— she fills the space with a palm to his cheek, one that has eyelids fluttering shut, tipping towards her touch as his hand rises to rest against the back of her own ;

                   maybe if he doesn’t say it, it doesn’t really need to end.

     It’s funny, kind of, in a not-at-all-funny way. Strange, too. Hana has spent so long fantasizing about this moment, this chance. She’d spent countless nights laying awake, countless breakdowns holding herself until her nails broke the skin of her arms, praying to every deity she doesn’t believe in, just wanting to go home -- and yet now she feels like she’s leaving home instead.

     She had been around when Dox had stopped being Dox and had started being -- fucking 54M54R4, of all names, and she had been around for everything before it, too. When she looks back on it, the years have passed so quickly, and with so many things happening, and now Hana can’t believe it’s over. It’s over. Now she’s going back to a place she hardly remembers, after all this, to people that may not be there anymore.

     It begs the question -- is it worth it? This chance to get away? She finally has the chance to leave it all behind, and Hana doesn’t want to. Well, she DOES, but. . . It feels hollow. Like she’s abandoning Dox. It’s ridiculous — Dox — 54M54R4 doesn’t need her around, she can tell, he’s capable, strong -- and she doesn’t belong here, she never has, but something about the way she’s survived made her feel like maybe she could.

     Words don’t want to come, now, after everything, and Hana feels that if she says goodbye, that’s going to be the last thing she ever says to him, so she keeps her lips shut as she presses into his personal space -- and, for once, he allows her. Not only that, but he seems to WELCOME it, and as his hand covers hers, she lets her head fall against his chest, the first tears she’s cried in five months welling up and spilling down her cheeks.

so i can’t find the prompt list, but,

     “How am I supposed to do that!?”

     The outburst surprises Hana, honestly. She hadn’t meant for it to come out so… Explosively. She didn’t want this to escalate, but it seems like maybe it will anyway. “I mean, I — I get that there’s no going back, and I can’t — I can’t undo my own dumb mistake, and I get that I’m the one who got myself here, but how am I supposed to just let it go! It isn’t that easy, Dox!” There’s an awful kind of knot in her throat and an even worse knot in her stomach, and her legs are doing that trembling thing they always do when she gets into an argument.

     It’s taking all her energy not to cry right now, but tears are still a second away from spilling, and Hana dares Dox to mention them. “How am I supposed to move on? Huh? If you have any genius ideas, feel free to share! Tell me how I’m supposed to stop living in the past, tell me how I’m supposed to let this guilt go! Because I’m all ears! And if you can’t, if you don’t have any wise ideas beyond telling me to move on, then I don’t want to hear it!” And there are the tears.

     Hana turns her head and scrubs her cheeks dry furiously. She isn’t sure who she’s angry at, or why. Dox, for saying it like it was something easy to dismiss? Herself, for getting in this situation? For leaving when she was needed? Because she wanted to be a teenager before it was too late? Fuck, she’s an adult, she should have acted like it.

the war i finally won starters || accepting! 

     “I’m not hungry,” comes Hana’s immediate response, though the pang in her gut proves her a liar – it’s more a matter of I don’t think I can eat anything right now. She isn’t sure why – perhaps the stomach-churning guilt that had slammed into her when she first opened her eyes that morning. It’s officially her second day here, and she still hasn’t adjusted – her night had been spent awake, and if she cried, she did so silently, or at least Dox had the courtesy to not bother her.

     The gravity of it all has since hit her, but the problem is that it keeps hitting her, and refuses to stop. She thinks of her father, worked to the bone day in and day out to provide for her and her mother. She thinks of her mother, bedridden and fragile and entirely dependent on her. Her friends would help, if they could, sure, she knows they’re kind like that, but…

late response but it’s time for soft ,

     When Hana wakes, it isn’t quickly, nor is it gracefully — it involves a lot of quiet grumbling and curses that would get her mouth washed out with soap in better circumstances, along with the usual tossing and turning and halfhearted attempts to smother herself with whatever’s nearest. The difference, this time, is that when she shifts around, she feels something poking at her, and because there’s never anything poking at her – courtesy of Dox’s minimalistic tendencies – this trades a little bit of exhaustion for a little bit of curiosity.

     She isn’t sure what she expects to see when she blinks her eyes open, but whatever it is, it’s certainly not… Chocolate? Hana sits up and the blanket she hadn’t noticed before falls to her lap; she draws it up around her shoulders and takes a few long moments to simply rub her eyes and try to get her brain to catch up with her. Why would there be a box of… Is that Valentine’s candy? That would only make sense if it was Valentine’s Day.

     That’s when the thought of Oh, fuck, is it Valentine’s Day? hits her, and Hana finally awakens enough to start processing things. From there, she begins thinking very many things in a very short duration of time.

     Firstly, Dox got her a box of chocolates and – presumably – gave her a blanket, which is a kindness leagues above what he usually does. Secondly, do they even celebrate Valentine’s Day down here? Or did Dox go out of his way to provide a little comfort? … Nah, that’s a little unlikely – while not entirely unkind, he still doesn’t give off that sort of vibe. He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to celebrate holidays, though, either – though Hana could just be bad at reading character.

INVITATION INSPIRES PAUSE , mender stilled to stiffness - there’s almost an AUDIBLE crack of STONE when he finally turns to face her , a… STRANGE sort of PASSIVENESS upon his face ; it’s not that he’s HARD to READ , it’s simply that there’s NO EXPRESSION upon his features - blank , dark eyes DULL in how they hold hana— he knows she MEANS WELL , but dox has no interest in allowing anyone that CLOSE to him .

                                                               “ …lets put it this way, ”

       he begins , wetting his lips ;

                                           “ there are some things i will NEVER tell you. ”

     There’s something on his mind, Hana can feel it, but it’s similar to feeling a piece of fiberglass in your skin — she can feel it, but the odds of her finding and extracting it are slim. By now, she likes to think they’re friends, or something close to it, at least -- by now, they have to be, right? So it made sense, really, to ask — she knows Dox values his privacy, but it’s important to at least offer.

     Unfortunately, things down here work differently. Dox turns her down about as quickly as expected, but his manner of speech inspires a strange feeling -- not quite irritation, not quite concern or confusion - maybe a mix of both?

     “Okay,” she replies, hoping to mollify him a bit, reassure him that she won’t pester, though there’s an air of stubbornness about her as she continues, “But I’m here either way.” She’s spent too much of her time mothering her own mother for the urge to care to just go to waste like this — perhaps if she were in therapy, she would be met with “it’s not your job to fix people” or “you don’t need to take care of everyone,” but she’s not. A pause --