- ̗̀ Fight Me ̖́-

                 ❛ i didn’t think you necessarily had to know that i needed glasses, but yes. i do. mostly for reading && writing. ❜

                   of course, this wouldn’t have been the first time someone had made a remark on the glasses. whilst most people would have assumed lance to be the kind always ready for battle, pose stricken with his fierce && undoubtedly loyal team at his side, one would have been more than shocked to find out that paper work was a regular part of his routine. enough to make him miss the battle field && the shot of ecstasy it always seemed to inject in his veins. the slight feeling of nostalgia hit him. 

                  he watched the red-head familiarise himself with the office, golden orbs threatening to narrow into slits of slight suspicion until the thought occurred to him: most people would feel more comfortable in any environment if it was first scanned. doors opposite his desk && the windows for a narrow escape && what lance could remember of silver – his silver – his own morality wasn’t as high as he could have hoped for. all objects of value were spotted && a count was made. it was better to be safe then end up loosening something. 

              ❛ && what sort of information would you need? in terms of location, or how to handle a dragon type because the both would be offered – as long as a proper reason would be given, of course. ❜

It's an understandable impulse, but one that leaves Silver no less irritated. So much so that he allows a certain amount of distaste to enter his expression.}

Your willingness to help me is noted. I'm interested in your knowledge on handling dragon types, I've found myself surprised by the tenacious grip they have on their pride. {Even Weavile and Gyarados have never displayed such an attitude before, leaving Silver somewhat at a loss for how to approach and reprimand the behavior.

Silver looks down at his right hip, lifting the edge of his jacket to carefully unclip the Ultra Ball that had been locked onto his belt. Placing it on the desk he smooths his thumb over the top, revealing the curled dragon inside.}

No. Definitely not strangers, but it still felt so alien to Gold whenever Silver pulled this. As if he couldn’t help the redhead no matter what, because he would always push him away. Refuse the want to help. It annoyed the Hatcher so much, and was probably the one thing that he hated about the other.

But at the beginning of those words he’s elated, perking up if just for a millisecond before Silver made him crash once more. That harsh tone just cut right through his normally immune mind. ]

Not Silver’s territory.}

And I’m not pushing you away right now. {He says each word slowly, firmly.} I just have a different opinion on where priorities should be placed at the moment. Like you coming with me to the kitchen to eat.

To bad it had to be at his hand. ] Maybe in a couple days due time, maybe later than that. I don’t know, Silver! But any other way than this would’ve been absolutely perfect. Your reaction isn’t helping matters, you know.

[ He really doesn’t know. When the right time would be, how Silver would react if he found out either sooner than this or later, or if there was any way to reach out to him and soothe that rising and bubbling anger. ( Somehow, it wasn’t fair. ) Though, now it was like he was at a loss for what to say exactly, left Gold standing there with that died off speech that almost seemed to push him to scream, yell or shout – Maybe even hug Silver and never let go. ]

You don’t know what I need? I’ll tell you. I need you. And you can twist this as much as you have to, it’ll never change that. 

[ He was delicate with his word choice, chewing his bottom lip as he wracked through his brain for the right things to say – how to say them – anything that would soothe Silver instead of angering him even more. He was so unpredictable, honestly, and Gold was left wondering why.

Gentle. He needs to be more gentle.

Needs to be, but can't do any more than pull on a cracked calm over the violent storm of emotions he's feeling. Gold is an idiot, a fact more prominent than ever because he can make Silver angry with effortless ease in such a delicate situation.}

If you need me I'm here. {Of all the times for Gold to not be a selfish prick, it had to be now. Processing emotions isn't something that Silver has ever been keen to let other's in on; he needs to do it alone, isolated. It's the easiest way to go about it.} So stop prioritizing how I feel. I don’t need you to.

{The thought of being needed, or actually needing Gold, is so terrifying it’s an effort to not point out that Gold was, and still is, a fucking mess. If he can't do something as simple as completing daily necessities, just living, he had no right to try and be someone else's pillar of support.

[ It’s been a week or maybe even more– Honestly Gold’s lost track at this point– Since she’s been gone. He’d lost his mind over and over again to the sleepless nights that would follow, and the endless tears that never seemed to dry themselves no matter how much he wanted to stop. The Hatcher just had a bleeding heart, one so dedicated to the woman that he loved so dearly that would never uphold that love anymore; It was such a toll on him.

But Gold notices that Silver twitches slightly in his fingers, and eyebrows would furrow slightly into the beginnings of a frown. He has to turn away before he either breaks down again for real, or… Something will be said that shouldn’t be. It was either that or the other. ] It’s not your fault, you shouldn’t be sorry.

[ He can’t exactly force himself to say ‘it’s fine’, because in reality, it wasn’t. Nothing would be ‘fine’ anymore. Gold didn’t want Silver to find out this way, hell he didn’t even want the other to find out at all– But his Mother meant a lot to the redhead as well, it was only fair. The only unfair thing besides her death itself was the fact that Silver was reacting like this. It angered the Hatcher too, but reminded himself in the corners of his mind that the other just couldn’t handle things like this very… Efficiently. No, scratch that– That was slightly uncalled for. ]

How did you want to break it, Gold? When would have been the appropriate time and setting for something like this, do you think? {As he talks Silver's aware of the boiling heat behind his eyes, and even though the tears don't come, he wipes at his eyes anyways.

Silver’s emotions are becoming wound tight, compressed and suppressed to leave room for a cold logic that does nothing for him in this situation.

Logic fails him as a coping mechanism for the first time he can remember. With it, everything is brought into a cruel kind of focus. It's all in sharp relief, cutting and undeniable. It makes his breathing hitch, something small, but overly loud in the quiet.}