doreimi | IC Inbox | prismatica

Um...yeah, actually. Well, me and Arnold and the cat, but I'm the only person.

good
i'll be there in a few

[ weird mood or not he was true to his word, ears twitching as he knocked on the door. that was the sound of a man with a purpose, even if he didn't know what it was yet. ]

[Well, that's certainly...emphatic, isn't it. Of course, it occurs to her belatedly that it's Sanguis, so maybe he just can't help it. It's probably nothing; she's reading too much into it.

All the same, when the door knock comes, she heads over and pulls it open, readying herself for whatever might be waiting on the other side.]

Mista, hey. C'mon in.

[ As soon as she opened the door part of him wanted to just turn tail and run, Abbacchio had said to talk to her but what was he even going to talk about? He knew well enough that he was already feeling conflicted, that he was irritable about irrational things that were beyond his control and yet he still had the need to do something about it.

There was an almost curt nod in response as he stepped through the door, pausing for that involuntary urge to sniff the air. ]

Thanks...

[ God Mista, get your shit together, at least try not to give into those Sanguis urges. ]

...what are we?

[ Or he could just ignore what his conscience was telling him. ]

...Um.

[She lets him in, closing the door quietly behind him, but the abruptness of the question makes her raise her eyebrows, more than a little bit thrown.]

What are we...what. I'm not sure I understand what you're asking...?

[ He was trying to keep it cool, but it wasn't necessarily working out that way. That much was evident from the way that he had snapped his teeth together when he'd pressed his lips into a thin line. ]

Are we just friends or something else? We've kissed, not a ton, but enough to know that we're both into it, right? Then something like the auction night happens and I don't know what the fuck I'm supposed to think...

[ Fucking Sanguis. Goddamn stupid feelings pooling in the pit of his stomach. His lips weren't pressed into a line any more, Mista biting down on his lower lip as he began to pace. He wanted to be calm, but it wasn't coming. ]

...I liked it but I hated it, I hated seeing you kiss someone else.

[ He didn't even need to raise his voice, his words deliberate enough that it couldn't be shrugged off as a joke. ]

Mista...

[She takes a half-step back, just for the sake of giving him more room to pace, and watches him with a growing awareness of the mounting tension he's brought with him into the room. It's impossible to tell how much of this is Sanguis and how much is what's already underneath, and she shifts her weight on the balls of her feet while she watches him.]

Are you saying you were jealous?

[She thinks a minute, gauging Sanguis, and then offers more tentatively:]

Or is it because I belong to you?

[ That struck him in a way that he would never be able to describe, stopping in his tracks as he felt his ears flatten back against his head. He knew that he was jealous, but did he feel like he had a right to claim ownership of her?

She wasn't an object, she was a kind person who'd been nothing but good to him and still he couldn't help that creeping feeling of satisfaction that he got from the thought of Reimi belonging to no one else but him. He'd stopped with his back toward her, wheeling around rather suddenly to face her with his brow knit tightly. ]

Both.

[ An answer that was resolute, at least, even if somewhere in there he knew it was the wrong one. ]

[Sanguis, she thinks immediately, and emphatically. Jealousy is one thing, of course it is, but there's something very particular about Sanguis and the way it manifests, and it always boils down to that extra step jealousy takes. Not just it should be me, but it should be me and no one else.]

And who decided that?

[She folds her arms lightly across her chest, aiming for casual as opposed to standoffish.]

Edited 2020-05-12 03:04 (UTC)

[ He should have hesitated, maybe even thought about his answer a little before letting anything past his lips but who needed control? He could feel his lip curling involuntarily, sharp huff through his nose accompanying the action. ]

Me, I did!

[ His fist was curling at his side, nails digging into the palm of his hand. Nails? Claws? He wasn't sure that either one was accurate but he also didn't care. ]

I think I've earned that right, don't you?

[ How exactly? He didn't know, but to him being rational was the least of his problems right now. ]

No. And you need to calm down.

[Has anyone in the entire world ever actually calmed down when someone told them to calm down? Probably not. And she's well aware that this is probably a bad idea, and not at all confident about talking back to someone — even Mista — when he's this deep into Sanguis.

But underneath it all, there's one thing that sustains her resolve, and it's the absolute certainty that no matter what, Mista is a good person who would never hurt her. Period.]

Listen to yourself. You've earned the right to decide I belong to you? I'm not a doll. And you don't own me, and neither does anyone else.

[She draws herself up a little taller, squaring her shoulders.]

Now settle down, and we'll talk. Because we're not talking if you can't be reasonable.

[ He hadn’t expected her to respond like that, something about it making him rethink this entire thing for a split second. Fleeting, really, the way that it left him as he felt warmth rising up beneath his skin. It could have been from the threat of flames or even just anger, but the one thing he was sure of was that he wanted to touch her.

To grab her and hold her and not let go for anything, teeth bared as he slightly relaxed his fist. ]

Be reasonable?

[ A question that was punctuated with a bitter laugh. ]

How am I supposed to be reasonable when all I can think about is you being here and alone with him? Do you have any fucking idea what that feels like?

[ Ah, there it was, his voice finally raised just like that beat under his skin. All of this because he didn’t know how to handle being alone himself, being so stupid and unsure of where he fit into everything when he only had himself as a guide. It was more complicated than he ever wanted it to be and even now there was that feeling spreading through him that told him he was doing it to himself.

Too late now. ]

I live here.

[She stays a careful distance away from him, but there are goosebumps raising up on her skin now; the room is starting to feel hotter, and she doesn't know if that's just from the tension, or something else.]

And no, I don't know what that feels like. But I do know what it feels like to have someone I care about come into my house and start — start yelling at me!

[Her voice feels close to breaking, and on a sudden flash of impulse, she chooses to let it.]

W-Why are you yelling at me...?

I know you live here, that’s what I’m talking about! You live here with him, just the two of you and...

[ He didn’t know where he was going with this; hand coming up to pull back through his hair, ears twitching out of irritation. A rumble of a growl swelled in the back of his throat as he searched for his next words but it was cut short when he heard that break.

Why was he yelling at her? What was he trying to accomplish? His mind was still reeling but it was almost a moment of clarity, Mista wrinkling his nose as he raised his brow and responded with something of little value. ]

...what?

[She drops her head, shoulders drawing in, and flicks a glance at him from behind a quivering lip.]

You're really scaring me...

[It's not even a fib for the sake of trying to get him to settle down. He really is making her uneasy, and no wonder.]

Why are you mad at me? Please, don't yell at me...

I'm not yelling!

[ He said it, knowing that as soon as it came out of his mouth that he was doing exactly what she was saying. Yelling. His fist clenched a little harder, Mista clicking his tongue and averting his eyes.

His tone was still nowhere near what she was used to, even if he'd taken a moment to lower his volume. ]

And I'm not trying to scare you, why can't you see that? I'm trying to keep you safe and this is the only way I know how to do it! If you're with me and no one else at least I know...

[ He was pacing again, this time getting closer to her than he had before but not stopping. ]

...look I'm just trying to do my fucking job, how am I supposed to do that if I don't have any goddamn guidance?

[ Great, what started out as yelling was turning into something that he should have handled on his own, or at the very least waited until well after Sanguis to deal with. ]

...Your job...

[And then, all of a sudden, the pieces start to fall into place. The protectiveness. The frustration. The restlessness.

Mista's job is to protect people, isn't it? And he can't do that with no one to protect, no direction to follow. No wonder Sanguis is making him so intense. It's almost like Abbacchio, in a way — needing that strong person to lean on in the ways that he feels weak himself.]

...Mista.

[Hmmm.]

Go stand against the wall.

[Will he? Is this what he wants? She doesn't know, but maybe she can find out.]

[ He caught himself wrinkling his nose again, this time out of confusion more than anything. Stand against the wall? What did that have to do with anything? Upset as he was his tail swished behind him anxiously, Mista chewing on the inside of his cheek before letting out a heavy sigh.

He didn’t have a reason not to do it, making his way over with a hesitant look over his shoulder. Was he supposed to face it? Was she trying to put him in time out? Like hell! He stopped short of the wall, turning back to face her before leaning against it with a haughty expression on his face. ]

Okay and this is supposed to do what? If you wanted me to stop pacing you could have just said it.

[ Pointing out that he’d been yelling had cooled him off some, though his confusion would really get most of the credit here. What the hell was she playing at? ]

Didn't you just get done saying you wanted guidance?

[She draws a slow breath, pressing her lips together for a moment, and then follows him over to where he's standing and rests the flat of her hand against the middle of his chest.

It's a light push — light enough that he could break it easily if he tried. The real question is, is he going to.]

It sounds to me like what you want is for someone to tell you what to do. Isn't it?

Huh? Well, yeah but...

[ It was something that was lost as soon as he felt that push against his chest. There was the return of that utter confusion, staring down at her hand for a moment before looking back up as if to make sense of what she was doing.

He'd almost reached up for her wrist, a brief consideration over whether he should remove her hand or not but even in a touch like that he could feel that faint flow of chroma. ]

I guess so, in a way. It's a lot more complicated than you telling me to stand against a wall, you know? It sure as hell isn't like having a job...

[ Was that what he'd said? He'd had that flare of frustration and now that he was thinking about his words he couldn't quite recall all of them. ]

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