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Yeah.

[None of this is easy, being angry or being sad or even joking around seems to have so many sharp edges, when it comes to each other, but at least this feels more honest than the shouting.]

I'm starting to get that.

[It's not I believe you, not yet, and it won't be for a long time, but it's more than she could have said at the start of this conversation.]

[Is she really starting to get it, though?

Because he doesn't think she is.

Another squeeze, and then he loosens his hold around her like he's about to let her go, because he really, really should, but... doesn't. Not yet.]

Edited 2013-08-30 16:53 (UTC)

[And she should pull away, but all she does is bring a hand up to use her sleeve to rub at her eyes, since she's sure they must be at least a little bit red, after the crying.]

I'm still angry.

[She just... needs him to know that. She might not be acting it right now, because it's too hard to be furious when he's right in front of her, but it's there under the surface.]

That's okay.

[Really. He doesn't sound particularly upset about it, because he's not stupid enough to think he can fix this just by kissing her and making her laugh.

She's not like other girls.

And if all this means he has to work his ass off to gain her trust again, he will. Even if there's a possibility that might never happen.]

[That helps, somehow, it's like he's accepting that she has the right to be angry, instead of arguing with her and throwing her own mistakes in her face.

She still doesn't know if she can forgive him, but she can nod, almost grateful, before she pulls away. It's strange to actually look at him after spending all that time hiding against his chest, and there's a tiny, vain part of her that hopes she doesn't look too much like crap right now. It's probably a false hope, between the burns on her hands and all the tears.]

M'sorry for shoving you. [a beat, and her gaze drops, guilty.] And slapping you. That wasn't fair.

[No matter how angry she was, she shouldn't have hurt him.]

[The only time he ever thought Stephanie looked like crap was when she was lying in that hospital bed, and it wasn't so much that he thought she looked like crap — it was more a problem of him thinking she'd somehow be gone for good and that would be the memory he'd be stuck with forever.

He follows her eyes down. That's when he finally notices the burns. Whatever she just said goes in one ear and out the other as Saul takes her right hand and lifts it up, squinting worriedly at the marks on her skin.]

What happened?

[She should pull away, but she doesn't, just lets him touch her.]

I accidentally spilt boiling hot tea on myself.

[She looks up at him, expression wry, as if she realizes how ridiculous that is considering everything else in life.

She doesn't want to mention the part about why she was lost her grip on her mug.]

I think someone's telling me I should stick to coffee.

[Yeah, that is pretty ridiculous. But Steph isn't the clumsy type, so the look he offers in return is skeptical. He doesn't ask, but his doubts are clear: I know there's more to the story than that.]

That's what you get for drinking hot leaf water.

[Because hot bean water is totally better, right?

He turns his attention back to her hand and lightly, barely rubs his thumb against one of the marks, like he's testing to see if it still hurts.]

Did you get this looked at?

[Can she pretend she doesn't see that look?]

I know, right?

[It's worse than it should be, mostly because she didn't do anything about the burns straight away when she should've been running them under cold water. But she doesn't flinch at the touch.]

I looked at it, they just need burn cream, which I've been using.

[She's a medic, she doesn't need to waste anyone else's time.]

Edited (maybe I should be in bed.........) 2013-08-30 17:50 (UTC)

[She can if she wants, but she's going to have to pretend like she's not seeing his face at all right now if she wants that to be the case. He looks wary, worried, and a little bit of something else.

Steph knows the look by now: the one Saul gets before he does something stupid.

But nothing stupid happens, and instead of kissing her hand, he releases it.]

Please be more careful.

[She can do that, it just meets keeping her line of sight at his shoulder rather than his face.

What she can't do is say that maybe Ellie shouldn't drop bombshells on her when she's holding hot beverages.]

I'm always careful.

[The grin isn't entirely genuine, but it looks good.]

[It does, but for once, he's not mirroring her expression.

Just because he doesn't think she's clumsy doesn't mean he thinks she's careful. He doesn't; she's not.

When he drops his own hand and finds himself reaching for hers again, he thinks maybe he should get going. Or she should. One of them should. But he knows she's going to think about this as soon as she's alone, replaying everything from the discovery to the yelling to the tears and hugging and what he's doing now, which is loosely winding his fingers around hers, and she's going to be mad. Madder than she is now, probably.

Saul doesn't want that to happen.]

Can I ask you something?

[Somehow, it's the moment he takes her hand, the moment she finds herself holding on instead of pulling away like she should, that she realizes how public this whole thing has been. People probably heard her screaming at him, and anyone could walk out of their room or out of the elevator at any moment and see her and Saul.

She should care about that, she should go, but she doesn't.]

Yeah, but no promises that I'll answer.

[The funny thing — not that it's funny, since it's actually incredibly stupid and reckless — is that he realized the same thing as soon as she started yelling and made a conscious decision to let whatever was about to play out where it did, how it did.

If he drew her attention to all the possibilities of discovery, she might have held back.

He glances down for a second, bites his lip again, then looks back up. He's a little afraid of what the answer might be, but he has to know.]

Do you believe that I'm sorry for what I did?

[The question makes her wince, eyes squeezed shut for a second as she tries not to start shouting at him all over again. She doesn't want to, she's tired but he just had to go and ask, instead of giving her time to work that out by herself.

She drags a hand over her face, before managing to look back at him.]

I dont know, Saul. That's kind of the problem here. [If she could believe that, she might be able to forgive him.] I want to believe you, and maybe I can eventually, but right now...

[She holds up a hand, the gesture a silent I don't know, her expression rueful.]

[That's okay, too. He gets it. It's not like he's offended or anything, except for the part where he looks hurt and can't seem to meet her gaze anymore.

Logically, he knows something like this is going to take time.

But when's the last time he favored logic over emotion? That's what he really hates about this place: what it's done to him.]

Okay.

[He leans forward and tilts his forehead down to meet hers and just stands there for a few seconds like that, eyes briefly slipping shut. One squeeze of her hand later, and then he's half a foot out of her bubble of personal space, then one foot, then two feet, backing up toward 509's door.]

I'll see you around, Steph.

[It's not fair that he gets to look upset, that she has to feel guilty about hurting him, when he's the one who did all those terrible things. Even if he's sorry, she hates that he can still look hurt and all she wants to do is apologize.

But she doesn't, she bites her tongue on it and just exhales shakily when he rests his head against hers. Are they ever gonna stop repeating these patterns?

They would if she can't forgive him, if she never speaks to him again after this, but the thought of that hurts almost as much as everything they've said to each other in the last few -- God, she doesn't even know how long it's been, and it doesn't really matter. She just knows she doesn't want to hate him forever.

For a moment, it's almost like she's not going to let go of his hand, but then her grip loosens and she leans back against the wall again, nodding and not meeting his gaze.]

Goodbye, Saul.

[It feels more final than I'll see you around, but it's the only words she can find.

She should walk away, but she waits for him to leave, first, before heading back down to 104.]

[As a rule, he never uses that word. It's too final, and hearing her say it is enough to stop him in his tracks.

But she didn't mean it that way, right? She couldn't have. She can't.

He needs to stop looking at her and he needs to get out of there pronto, so as soon as the moment passes and he feels the ground under his feet again, he turns quickly on his heel and very nearly shoulders his way back into his apartment.

The door clicks shut so quietly, it's barely audible.]

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JUST KIDDING!!!

BANSHEE SCREECH

♥

why do you hurt me in this way

because ilu

no you don't

more than you know

dont you start

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