the saint

She was hesitant again, after hearing his words. The subject of being alive had been one of importance to her since the world’s turn, and at a comment like his, she couldn’t help but give her opinions. “Being alive’s different from living.” She choose not to elaborate any further on that. “Oh.” His reason to keep up with the dates was similar to hers then. She looked out for her birthday too, among other things. “Is it soon?”

Her words were something Dahlia had often told him, and he found himself throwing her a surprised glance. The reaction was quick, however, before he let his face go blank again. Green hues narrowed at the girl as he considered her question, too tired to not answer it and push her away - yet too tired to speak at all. “Was a week ago.”

She didn’t miss the fidget. That and his words once again caused her to wonder what happened to him in his past and wonder what he had to suffer through before he made it here. “Worryin’ like that won’t do ya any good. It’ll just ‘cause ya more stress and paranoia than necessary.”

“It’ll keep me alive too.” He didn’t know what was keeping her around. There was absolutely no reason for her to remain a part of the conversation unless she wanted to test his limits. Luckily - or maybe unluckily - enough for her, they were far higher than was usual for him. “My birthday,” he continued, realizing he hadn’t given a direct answer. “That’s why.”

“You still worry about dying that often? Even now, inside the walls?” Sage was walking on so many eggshells, she wasn’t even sure if she should have questioned him. She was just so nervous of him blowing up at her again. But she had to keep the conversation going, and honestly, if she hoped to someday make amends with this guy for whatever awful thing she did to him to make him hate her so much, she’d need to not be scared to ask him simple questions. Plus, she was genuinely curious of the answer.

“Walls can fall, Blake.” 

“Why are you keepin’ track?” Sage clarified, her voice neutral. She knew why she was keeping track. She still had days she wanted to celebrate, or at the very least acknowledge as they came around. He, however, might have another reason. Maybe it was to keep track of important dates like her, or maybe because he just wanted to know how long it’s been since the last time he asked for such information that could be argued as being trivial nowadays. Thanks to her limited knowledge of him, it could honestly be anything. 

A small shrug lifted his shoulders. He wanted to get angry, to turn her away. His silence changed nothing in the fact that he still wanted her nowhere near him. But there was nothing for him to lash out at. Nothing to rationally call a reason. At least not yet. “Just to have somethin’ to do,” He tapped his hands against his knees before leaning back a bit, letting his eyes focus on Sage’s face. “Y’know other than worry about dyin’ ever fuckin’ day.”

She wasn’t expecting him to speak. If he did, she didn’t expect him to say anything other than an insult or a demand for her to disappear. The fact that he said something different took her by surprise, causing her to glance sharply at the man beside her. For the sake of keeping the peace - however temporary it was - Sage decided not to voice any of her opinions on his first statement for the time being. She focused elsewhere. “Why?”

“…No problem.” 

“…S’the twenty-sixth, I think…. Been tryin’ to keep track.”

“Great. Useless information, then. ... Thanks.”

“Personally I’m terrible at gambling, I don’t have a poker face and I suspect I never will. Got all my emotions on my face, y’know. Oh, right, the answer… he needed his bone and marrow.”

“It’s all in what you’re thinkin’ while tryin’ to keep your face in check. If you ain’t a good actor, you could use your train of thought as a tool. - Bone and...hell.” Oliver let out a laugh, shaking his head at the girl. “We’da been here all day if you let me guess enough to get to that.”

Just… tired.

“Same reason it did for most people - wasn’t mutual.”

Ugh, fuck me for feeling a little sentimental today.

“Bad day for you too, huh?”

Chip followed at Oliver’s heels practically, wishing he were a little more awake for this. Or for something. He wasn’t sure what. He rubbed a hand through his already disheveled hair, frowning for half a second at something Oliver said that triggered some flash of memory he couldn’t quite place.

"Ah...I hear ya." Oliver sidestepped to let himself fall back at Chip's side. There was no point in trying to stay ahead of the younger man if they were going to have a conversation. He stuffed his hands into his hoodie's pockets to keep them from fidgeting, though he almost wanted to immediately pull them out again. “We could talk about somethin’ else,” he offered, shrugging and glancing back to their path. “Unless you wanna try and figure out what’s wrong. I’ve had that feelin’ before, y’know...I know it ain’t fun - but...might help to talk ‘bout it.”

“Um the twenty first–wait no, the twenty sixth. I don’t fuckin’ know. I lost track.”

Oliver gave a light chuckle at the response. “You and me both, sister,” he mostly mumbled, glancing down at his hands for a quick second before refocusing. “At least I know it’s in the twenties now. So - thanks.”