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Shadow
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Unsortables light-hearted conversations were rare between them with her habit of over analyzing and his of being overeager. wanting her to want more and experience more than she lets herself is a struggle he's resigned himself to, even if he's not quite sure precisely when he had decided it was worth fighting. maybe when he met her. maybe before he'd seen just how lost she seemed to be.
she wouldn't agree if he said that. she doesn't agree with a lot of the things he says but it happens so often that it's questionable whether she even means it anymore. if they're not just words tossed out there to separate them instead of allowing him any closer than she wants him to be. another struggle he loses more often than he seems to win. for once they're not talking about her apparent issues or digging up old graves, just saying whatever comes to mind.
which is why he doesn't really think about it before voicing the question, watching the city below the railing they're both leaning against.
"if you could be anything, what would you be?"
it seems like an innocuous question and, he thinks to himself, safe to ask. nothing too personal that might cause her to shut down while still giving him an insight into the complex way her mind works. sometimes he wonders if she enjoys confusing him, or if she does it on purpose to keep him off guard; an alternate tactic to keep him at a distance.
— he's not wrong on that assumption.
she's quiet at it, a long moment of reflection given to the question rather than a quick reply. he's learned to interpret her silences as her breaking down process — internalizing far more than she'd ever be willing to say while figuring out how to respond in a manner that's not a blatant dismissal. this process can take anywhere from seconds to several minutes, depending on just how much she bites back.
"I think....I would like to be a shadow."
for an instant he's surprised by her answer, then reminds himself that this is her and he really shouldn't be surprised by anything she says. he still is though, followed by the typical confusion when he fails to understand her particular method of madness. his mouth opens, then shuts again on the realization he's not sure if he should bother to ask for an explanation.
what are the chances she'll give him one?
she looks over at him and he's relieved to see a smile. good...she wasn't angry that he'd asked. he could feel himself relaxing at it, expecting another long pause. that's not what she gives however and for a second time he's startled.
"because shadows can't affect anything. they follow but they don't touch, they can't cause damage or take physical form. they disappear in the right lighting." she shrugs as if its the most natural thing in the world to want to be nothing at all. "it would be nice to look back and see nothing behind me. to know that I've had no effect on anything by being here."
he's no longer surprised by the time she stops talking, as if she just realized how much she had said without meaning to. a few sentences more than he's ever heard her speak actually. he's not surprised but he's a little heartbroken that she would want that fate for herself. as if she's resigned herself to that grave she dug and was nothing more than a ghost now. looking at her with the lights of the city passing over her features, he had the thought that she's already halfway on her way to attaining her goal.
