[ one could argue that any city in any place housed its own perils and strife. linkon wasn't unique in that way... the dangers just happened to increase tenfold after the catastrophe that happened years prior. this ruined, now lawless land was all that remained after the initial smoke and fire died down, and its amongst the ashes that the praedators rose up. devoid of reasoning, a deep-rooted and irreversible hunger— some would argue it was now their city.
fighting for survival had never been anything new to sylus. he had simply just preferred to do it entirely alone. he never comprehended it as being a particularly lonely existence; he moved from one commission to the next, and just like that all traces of him would disappear overnight like a mist that recedes by daylight. but, who knew that even he would have found someone to share this less than ideal lifestyle with. he isn't sure what reason drove reze to stay with him— for her to swap identities, burner phones, and addresses time and time again. so much that some could have even called it an actual routine; a song and dance they knew by heart.
in reality, each time he sat up on the couch in the early morning hours and could hear her light footsteps, he expected it would have been the last time he heard them. but, in spite of these thoughts, she remained at his side. was it out of duty? obligation? or was he just like a habit that she couldn't stop circling back to. sylus doesn't pretend to understand, even as his gaze lingered on her in the dark in the close proximity that they shared.
he didn't expect for his own business to have taken as long as it had. for any normal person, a year, or two, or several, with no-contact would have likely been received horrifically, but sylus doesn't seem to focus any attention on that fact. doesn't think about how the means to an end may not have justified whatever grudge could or couldn't exist on her end. he isn't even sure now who sought out who first, but it's a fact that they were now in a car parked in front of his newest hideout. his eyes drifts to the rearview mirror, before he eventually speaks, something deliberate with each word. ]
If I knew you were going to stay, I would have brought you another [ horror ] novel to read before bed. [ is it more or less infuriating that he seems to act as if nothing had transpired between them, and yet he speaks with an odd sense of familiarity. either way, it's clear he has no desire to actually broach the topic of their past. still, despite how carefree the words may sound on paper, there's something intense in his gaze, especially as his fingers linger close to hers. ]
So you didn't bring me back a souvenir? Like.. nothing, at all?
[ It used to be a tradition - he'd bring back strange, pretty things from undisclosed places and via undiscussed means. Her favorites she'd kept, the others she'd sold out of spite and necessity both.
Reze pouts and makes a point to sound like the disgruntled teen she still was (even if in the time he's been gone she's become a full fledged adult - not that the concept of childhood still existed in their world, at least not for people them). ]
I'll forgive you just this one time if you let me drive your car.
[ It's nice. Nicer than anything he used to own.
In the near decade she's known him he's always had a penchant for nice things. It's the very reason why they'd ever met at all: spending her formative years in captivity made her as desperate as it did bold and she'd finally made the mistake of stealing from the wrong person. At least that's what she'd thought. Whether it was pity or pragmatism, her claims to self-sufficiency and near feral hunger seemed to do the trick.
But he hadn't put her to work in the way she assumed he would have, assumed most people in this city would when confronted with another mouth to feed. There were odd jobs, the occasional danger here and there, but whatever it was he was up to he kept her out of the worst of it until he no longer could.
The years where she was involved where some of the happiest of her life.
No matter how transient, how dangerous, or unstable their way of life was, Sylus was always there- a consistent presence, one that always let her eat first and eat well, kept the fear of death and pain at bay even despite how often it followed them around. It was pragmatism on her part too, to stick around. But overtime she'd found herself becoming loyal. One day she'd woken up and realized she cared less about watching her own back these days and more about his well-being.
And then, one day, just like that, he was gone. ]
Also no one owns physical books anymore. Keep up with the times.
[ She mirrors his familiarity, even if each word she speaks only serves to annoy her more and more.
Reze does not shy away from him, but she is lying in wait - something long buried bubbling to the surface of her throat. ]
apologies for how late this is! i've been working a lot of ot...
[ the pout may have very well been a well-calculated trap. but, it's a trap he's willing to fall for. while he isn't sure if her intention was to remind him of all the times in the past she wore a similar expression, or if it was just him suddenly feeling the impact of her presence back in his life. his lips curve upwards, and he gives a small chuckle as if just finding the gesture endearing. she still held the same effect over him, and he doesn't pretend to blind to it. at least if she won't either.
when reze speaks, he can barely conceal his genuine amusement, and instead he motions to the steering wheel with his chin. ] That depends. Am I going to be the one in the passenger seat? [ he says, his tone oddly easygoing, and maybe a little teasing.
while he seems to keep up this pretense like it's a game of cat and mouse, he'd like to think his feelings were still transparent somehow. after all, would they both be here if neither desired it? he'd like to believe they were simply two sides of the same coin, or like a flowers grown from the same soil. even if their seeds were carried away by a particularly harsh storm, they had a way of being reunited. ... or so, sylus may have uttered if he was being entirely honest.
instead...
at her returned familiarity, he feels his heart rate increase just slightly, and he draws his hands over hers. he does it naturally, almost as if he doesn't even notice he's doing it. his eyes don't veer to way his fingertips brush over her knuckles, and instead his eyes remain wholly focused on her. ]
Oh, so are you going to help me "keep up with the times," Miss? [ ... and then his hand moves past hers to open up the glove compartment.
[ Her judgement, as to what he means or doesn't mean is clouded by her distrust - which is only partly Sylus's fault. Reze has always been this way and in his absence she'd simply accepted that part of herself, stopped trying to figure out if it was a nature or nurture thing.
She knows he cared for her back then, but believing he still does is more terrifying a prospect than anything else in this city.
Maybe he thought she could still be useful. He'd taught her most of what she knew, and had done so with exacting discipline. It hadn't been easy when Sylus left but she'd survived, learned to thrive, even. She didn't enjoy any of what she did, nor did it make her feel good, but she was good at scaring, stealing and occasionally killing. A girls gotta' eat, yknow?
Somehow his hands seem even bigger now. She just barely flinches at the sudden contact, like she wasn't expecting it - maybe she's waiting for his fingers to phase right through hers, like a proper ghost. ]
Only if you ask me reaally nicely.
[ He smells like expensive cologne and something smokey when he brushes past her. The scent is nostalgic.
Reze peers over his arm, trying to see what he's reaching for. ]
[ maybe it's like he taught her. to always remain composed, to be aware not of just ones surroundings, but to even the way ones emotions settled in their chest. despite there being gaps in which he feels like he can see inklings of her old self, there's a certain degree in which he also feels an odd sense of ... unfamiliarity. or like he's feeling something new and uncharted. ... and on top of it all, he can tell she's studying him as much as he is her.
though, the reasons she's looking at him so intently aren't the same as his.
or are they? he doesn't presume to know. as much as he may have trained her and kept to her side over the span of years, it isn't like he can read her mind. even if he might act like he can. but, sylus was nothing short of confident even at the worst of times.
while it isn't like she recoils from his touch, he does notice a hint of some sort of reaction in her. as if to test it, he almost lingers closer to her, letting his body lean forward more than he has to. even as he feigns some degree of ignorance while he does it. ]
Just like how you asked me so nicely?
[ he says this knowing she hadn't really asked him as much as she basically complained, but hey. either way, he takes out a small box and in it is a key with a small keychain with a gem on it attached. ] I figure you'll need it when we leave this place. [ it wouldn't be the first time they're moving.
but, can he say this when they've just met up again? is it a test?
maybe just a little. though, not exactly in the way she might think it is. ]
[ Her first guess is that he has a gun for her, maybe a check as some sort of sign-on bonus. The box stumps her. Reze holds it up to her ear and frowns up at him when she hears the faint sound of jingling. He lingers until she finally ends her pageantry and opens it - for some reason she feels like he already knows what her reactions going to be.
(This is made doubly annoying by the fact that what he offers her is the last thing she expects.) ]
This isn't a gift. [ She holds the gem up to the light and appraises it with exaggerated scrutiny, mimicking and mocking so many of the jewelers she'd met while under Sylus's wing. ] It's an invitation.
You said "when we leave" - but I haven't said yes.
[ Her brain short circuits briefly after that. She wants to be mad and yell at him (in her own muted way), much like she used to when he would make decisions for the two of them. But Reze also wants more than that, to be acknowledged as an equal. These two things are at odds.
Reze maintains her unblinking, pleasant smile for just a second or two too long, processing what might come next.
(Years ago he'd turned her on to some old black and white shows from a society that likely no longer existed; it was about a family of eccentric monsters living in an old haunted house. Reze became fascinated by it, and Sylus had said something about how it made sense she would be - she was kind of like them in demeanor.)
She lets herself out of the car, knuckles wrapping across the door as she does. ]
[ contrary to all the ways in which they may have evaded putting their innermost thoughts to spoken words, heād like to believe their bodies were far more honest. he takes solace in the simple fact that she doesnāt outright push him away, and in spite of how (seemingly) capricious she appears in both assessing the āgiftā and in her immediate response— heās a bit relieved. albeit, it isnāt displayed beyond the way he releases a small, almost clipped start of a laugh. sylus shakes his head, his eyes focusing back on the gem between her delicate fingertips. ]
You havenāt. [ he agrees. but, per usual, thereās no lack of self-assurance in his words, even as he grapples with the idea that she could say no. she always had the ability to, he thinks. while they may have inexorably been pulled any number of ways by the dangers that lurked beneath the surface of this city, itās also true that he valued her sense of agency. whatever she desired in this worldā¦ heād genuinely hoped sheād have it.
even this hope could have easily manifested as their future home-to-be ā¦ to be oddly reminiscent of the film she was obsessed with her in her youth. is more surprising that she secretly remembers, or that he does?
either way, itās probably an odd sentiment for someone like him to have, perhaps, but he doesnāt have to think twice about his feelings. he doesnāt have to weigh them out, and maybe that was the real source of his conviction.
when she leaves the car, sylus shakes his head again. itās not so much in exaggeration as it is in him thinking heās truly met his match in her. he follows around the other end of the car. he meets her at the front door, his peripherals turning back towards her, before a quiet. ]
So will you decide after the tour, or is it your plan to keep me waiting indefinitely? As you know I can be very patient, depending. [ theyāre not factitious words in a sense. after all, he had always been relatively methodical when it came to achieving his objectives. even if he didnāt always (never) publicize them. ]
[ Her key unlocks the door with a decisive click, and in perfect time with Sylus posing his question.
Reze never found him to be particularly dishonest, but it wasn't like he was some shining beacon of transparency- any moments from their shared history that proved otherwise were blurred and colored by parts of her personal history, the things that came before Sylus and after.
She gives him a sidelong glance and slips through the door, not bothering to hold it open for him.
This place is a far cry from anywhere he'd taken her before. She feels the sticker shock with this one; the sports car wasn't surprising, he'd bailed her out of jail so he was obviously loaded. The price on her head wasn't exactly cheap- but it was sports car money, not Victorian-Mansion-Turned-High-Tech-Secret-Base.
Her nostalgia connects the dots between the decor and the black and white haunted house of her childhood, that had until now, only ever existed in various dingy living rooms across the city. It's a little gaudy (as she'd always found Sylus's taste to be), but it's as dark as it is cozy, which is where their preferences intersected.
It was kind of perfect, actually. She would voice this if it didn't activate her fight or flight instinct (which was another problem that predated Sylus, but one she also blamed him for on her bad days).
Instead she lets out a low whistle, appraising the foyer like one would a pretty girl. ]
The keychain is cute and all.. but now that I know a sports car is just pocket change to you - I don't know Sylus. I feel like I'm being lowballed.
[ sylus can only speculate if her slipping through the cracks of the door the way she had was purely out of habit, or if that was meant to be a jab at him. when he has to grasp hold of the door himself, he figures itās a bit of both. but, her reaction is still within expectation to a degree. if anything, the fact that she makes it a point to whittle in these points of minor aggression ā¦ actually makes him feel kind of good. he viewed it in no less than an amiable sort of lens; finding it just as cute as one might, say, a kitten.
itās just another sign that maybe he left some sort of impact on her that wasnāt just teaching her how to assemble a gun in seconds, or the techniques to make people surrender without even raising a finger. if he were being entirely honest, itās also not unlike the way he occasionally put the same records on, the ones theyād often listen to together (albeit, maybe not without complaint). or in the manner in which he still habitually left the television set running, knowing full well no one was watching.
he watches the way reze explores the foyer with a certain softness in his eyes that was clearly reserved just for her. within linkon, anything could become a sign of weakness, and so he knows itās an expression he canāt just don anywhere. though, heād be hard-pressed to find a reason to smile in the world of praedators. a fact that seems unimportant at present. ]
Thatās because you havenāt seen the armory yet. [ he casually walks up behind her, his hand guiding her by the waist for a moment. or at least, that would be the case, but his fingers barely touch the fabric of her shirt, and itās almost like heās ushering her in its general direction. ]
[ It surprises her that she doesn't shrink away from his touch. Familiarity wins over spite (and it's been so long since she's experience any sort of gentle gesture). She bends her neck back to look up at him, able to crane it backwards a little farther than the average person - it's a bit unsettling to most people, but she can only assume Sylus is too accustom to her uncanny valley behavior to care. ]
Like there's anything in there I need! [ She scoffs.
Her Evol gave her the ability to make things spontaneously combust. As a child her Evol was often erratic, following the highs and lows of her mood and occasional tantrum. Even back then she was quiet and rarely prone to yelling or crying. Instead, she made things explode, sometimes intentionally sometimes on accident. He'd helped her with that too, and with more patience than she'd ever expected.
Despite all that she lets him guide her toward his armory. All the way there her eyes drift around each room they pass through. She notices the record player, amber liquor and red wine, the giant bookcases that held manuscripts that probably pre-dated the Linkon they lived in today. She notices all the things she associates with him, and they're things that she'd been fond of too. Her favorite records were the crooning ballads, songs so old that quiet crackling filled every silent moment between songs. Reze isn't sure if she would care for any of these things if not for him; her own taste in music was loud, and involved a lot of screaming and aggressive drumming. She doesn't think he ever liked it much, but occasionally let her play it in the car on long drives (though at a lower volume than she'd like).
Sylus unlocks the armory and leaves her wide-eyed at the sheer amount of weaponry that lines every wall. ]
[ sylus was never the sort to squander an opportunity. if she doesnāt recoil, or step back, then all the more reason to allow his own touch to linger. when she turns back to look at him, he gestures with his eyes for her to focus her gaze back up front. itās true that her movements donāt bother him, instead each one of them is both familiar, and almost comfortable. ]
You never know. Bold of you to presume your evol will get you out of everything. [ considering she was just bailed outā¦ he says these words easily, amusement still lacing his voice, but itās a point he may have said not unlike a teacher might make a point. maybe itās just another habit, but theyāre also not words he pushes. he simply lays them out, and continues to enjoy the hallway just filled with their collective footsteps. one after the other, sometimes in tune with on me another.
he can tell sheās curious about the place in spite of whatever reservations she has. that part hasnāt changed either, he thinks, and thereās a touch of fondness as he does. he figures if she accepts, she would have more than enough things to keep her attention here as opposed to anywhere else. ]
This might be the first time anyoneās said that. [ he says knowing full where there is no one else who could enter his space like this. or who has been here, actually.
he picks up a gun from the table and places it in her hands. ]
What? So you bring girls here all the time? You dog!
[ She's teasing, and when she takes the gun from him she pretends to have clumsy hands. It looks like she might even drop it.
Reze plays at being inexperienced with a weapon, forcing some caricature of someone much more naive than who they both know her to be. It's an instinctual response to the pinch of annoyance she feels at this scenario she's concocted.
She knows this is her brain reminding her body to not get comfortable. Nostalgia did not change the fact that this was not her home. This was a place built by someone who had proven to be a stranger and no better than anyone else. The years of its construction were marked by near constant misery.
Reze was relieved of it only when she was able to remember who she was before Sylus. ]
So this isn't actually an invite- [ Reze points the gun at him. It fits perfectly in her hands, and in the shiny steel she can see her reflection - murky and distorted as it is. ]
It's a job interview.
[ When she aims she squints one eye shut. One of the first things Sylus had taught her not to do. ]
Pew pew!
[ The gun shudders in time with the fake gunshots. Pretending like there's actual recoil is a nice touch, if she were to say so herself. ]
noooo not me finding my phone tag typos days later
[ for all heās taught her, he isnāt nearly as vigilant around her as he theoretically should be. his eyes donāt follow the barrel of the gun as much as they do her clumsy hands. moreover, instead of being miffed by this entire farce— he clearly seems taken with the idea of her creating this manufactured scenario. ]
Is that what you think? [ he doesnāt confirm nor deny her teasing. he opts on wearing the smile (perhaps, he hasnāt really dropped it) he usually does around her; equal parts self-assured and fascinated by where she planned to go with all of this.
was she making a statement of how little she thought of any knowledge he may have imparted on her in their past? or was this another kind of rebellion to which heās only fanned the flames of with his careless words.
but, while he seems to savor every second of her act, she clearly wasnāt the only one who could put on the same bravado. though, his may have been less a performance as much as it was just another form of self-expression. except, like with everything involving sylus, while it is direct, it also leaves a lot to interpretation.
when she points her gun at him and shoots— ] Oh, it looks like you missed. [ he steps in closer, and curls his fingers over her hand thatās holding the gun. he forcibly draws the gun closer to him, enough where the end of it is pointed straight at his heart. ] You know, the target is right here. Did you forget? [ still, he wonders if she feels his heartbeat travel through the body of the gun. ]
[ Her body jerks forward, and her heels just wonāt dig into the floor. He has always been a behemoth of a man but somehow he looks even larger now than he did when she was a child. Reze looks up at him, frowning. ]
Jeez.. can you be normal for just like, two seconds?
[ Hypocrisy, maybe. But wasnāt he supposed to be the mature one here? ]
Youāre so dramatic. [ Thereās a note of anger that slips through, poking a hole in her composure. Thatās his thing though, backing her into a wall, waiting out the dishonesty until she grew exhausted by lying. ]
[ the flare of anger doesn't go unnoticed. while some may have found it in them to be naturally defensive, sylus is anything but. he accepts her words as they are, and he seems to fall silent for a moment, just letting that feel of the gun against his chest sink in a little deeper. as if to commit even its weight, or the way her fingers try to flex out of his grip in for a bit longer. because he's someone who comprehends just how fleeting moments like these are. ]
I did. [ he doesn't clarify what part he's really responding to. that this was his attempt at "normal." their normal?
or maybe that he was simply affirming that he had left his guard down. even now, he's focused on her enough where he could have theoretically been ambushed, maybe. no, perhaps he might have trusted her to react first. actually is there a shred of some other emotion beneath all of this in which he wonders if she doubts him...
whichever it ends up being, he squeezes her hand. ]
Then, you could try. You always had that right. [ he says easily, but it isn't like he would necessarily go down just like that. surely their fates were intertwined too deeply for one of them to simply go without the other. ]
[ He may as well have electrocuted her; Reze all but jumps when he squeezes her hand. It's meant to be reassuring, she thinks. A strange time to offer comfort, she has a gun pressed to his pulse and has been uncooperative from the moment they'd let her out of her cell.
She assumed it was some old boss cutting her a deal, or even some paypig who'd managed to make themselves useful for once. Sylus was the last person she expected to see, and much to her annoyance, he was the only person she would even want to see. ]
You already know the answer. [ Her fingers squirm against the grip of the gun and Sylus's hand. ] You skimped me. I never got my last check.
[ Not that she hadn't made off with more than that. ]
Where did you go Sylus? [ Proper gun safety isn't really on her mind when she tries to pull free from him. Why be careful when he's given her permission? It's not as if something this stupid could kill someone like Sylus.]
And don't tell me you're here just to pay me back.
[ It's hard to say if he lets her go or she just finally scores one point against him. Reze tips the gun upwards and it fires the bullet whizzes just past his ear. ]
[ did either of them truly comprehend comfort outside of their own specific definitions of it? or whatever their lifestyles could offer?
this is all the more when peppered with his own complicated swirl of emotions and desires. even now, when they've reunited and he's all but decided to leave it to reze's pace, he sees he's likely miscalculated somewhere.
or maybe he hasn't. he hears it in the emotion in her voice, and even in the way she finally asks the question(s) she's likely been harboring all this time. ] So this isn't proper payment? [ he starts, but whatever words he may have had prepared at the tip of his tongue, is clipped by the crack of a gunshot. while most would have reflexively recoiled, even from the sheer proximity of the sound—
sylus stands his ground. he actually doesn't know when she's managed to weasel out of his grip and he's both proud and a little surprised. this fact only seems to dawn on him when his fingers come up to graze the side of his ear. surprisingly the bullet did manage to just clip the edge of skin and he feels the sticky residue of blood. to which he releases a small sigh. ] If that's your final answer, then I'll have to tell you mine.
[ he holds his hand out, just the light splotch of blood on his fingertips. bright and red as if they were some sort of offering to her.
did she really want to hear the answer to her question? still, it looks like he's ready to talk. ]
[ She assumed he would dodge, expected it with an arrogant amount of certainty.
Reze feels guilt and shame bubble in the pit of her stomach.
The whole thing had been childishā so much for being seen as an adult, as an equal.
Her hands buzz from the force of the recoil, every nerve in her body on edge despite this not being the first or last time sheāll shoot a gun. She fights her instinct to run away and tucks the gun away and out of sight, the barrel is still hot to the touch, and she feels the metal burn her skin once itās hidden underneath her shirt. ]
Itās not my final anything.
[ Thereās no more anger in her voice when she takes his hand, paying no mind to the blood sheās drawn even as it stains her fingertips. ]
Youāre bleeding.
[ Her grip is firm. Reze tugs on his hand and guides him out of the vault as if she knows where sheās going. ]
Whereās your first aid kit? Iāll helpā
[ with his wound, obviously. Itās an attempt at making things right. But itās instinct too, a vestige of their past, Sylus returning home at a concerningly late hour (or sometimes, after days), filled with shrapnel and open wounds. ]
[ he actually wonders if she'd run, and if so, for how long. he tries to guess, with no real effort, if she would have remained laughably within reach, or if this time she'd travel farther with some unspoken resolution to steer clear of him for the foreseeable future. he wonders if that had been the case before he waltzed back into her life with the same amount of nonchalance he had when he walked out of it.
while it may have been a necessity— insurance, and the only logical conclusion anyone could draw in perilous circumstances like theirs... he feels a certain hurt in her he may have not expected, nor intended.
when she grabs onto his hand and begins leading him, he gives a hint of humor. a dark sort of timbre, almost like a laugh. almost. ] I didn't even notice. [ an obvious lie. ] If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were already regretting leaving your mark. [ it's no time for jokes, but he does end up switching his grip, letting his fingers slip from hers, only to hold her wrist and lead her down the next room.
he then gestures to a medical cabinet, it's a bathroom, and he leans his back against the vanity sink. ]
[ His amusement annoys heā sheās not sure if thatās intentional, something to dampen the embers of her guilt that were filling her lungs and with smoke, making it difficult to talk. But he also could simply just be annoying for the hell of it. Sylus liked to do that too. She canāt even count on her hands how many times as a child heād drawn a frown that was too severe and cold for a kid her age. ]
Wasnāt it you who told me never leave a trace of myself behind?
[ She sets all of her supplies across whatever space remains along the marble sink. Gauze, ointment, bandages, all in a neat line like little soldiers waiting at attention. ]
Sit down.
[ she points at the toilet seatā even now he seemed to tower over her like some imposing monument, dedicated to near decade thatās passed since she saw him last.
Despite it all her hands are gentle, careful, as she examines his wound. ]
No stitches..
[ she mumbles quietly to herself. And once her inspection is complete she gets to work cleaning the wound.
This is the first time since their reunion that sheās seen him up close. Itās not just that he looks olderā thereās something more subdued, more worn about him now. Wherever heād been he hadnāt been taking it easy. ]
Where were you?
[ sheās tired of dancing around it. ]
<3 i also just want to say i see so much reze on my tl and my eyes are blessed
[ the fact that she still remembers what he told her is both gratifying in some ways, and also a bit sobering in others. it isn't like he suspected she would cast away all the memories they've shared, or forget their time together— but, he also didn't think it would have straggled on like it had. he wonders if even her current predicament could have been drawn by a series of choices relating to his decision to have left when he had. ]
But, didn't you? You had no issue clearing our safe.
[ "our safe." but, it's clear by sylus' words he held no particular contempt about it.
if their current safehold was anything to go by, it's clear that they weren't struggling. then again, being the most notorious assassin in the south certainly carried its own connotations. ... and issues, naturally, but they weren't here to discuss those. instead, he releases another huff in humor before settling down on the closed toilet seat as requested. of course, he makes an obnoxious show of it too. she wasn't wrong about him being annoying. ]
Ever's lapdogs ambushed me. [ he angles his head naturally, his cheek leaning into her hand... just slightly, before she pulls away to work on the wound. ] And it looked like their next target was... [ he looks back at her, before shaking his head slightly, as if to play it off. sylus doesn't necessarily think it explains away why he didn't come find her sooner. however that answer was even easier for him, actually.
he just chooses not to put into words. ]
MOVIE HYPE IS SO REAL seeing her animated and hearing her for the first time š
[ She tucks that little quip away in her pocket, a mental note folded into a tiny slip - out of sight but still very much there. Her modus operandi was mark down every transgression and then retaliate via a totally unrelated situation (at some point in the future no doubt, she will explain to Sylus that he likes do this thing called 'rage baiting'.)
Reze only half-listens, the other half idly fixated on the fact that Sylus allows her so much closer now despite the time and distance he'd put between them. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, right?
Or maybe he did finally see her as an equal. As anything but a stray and another mouth to feed.
Her brow furrows, lips pulled into a line as she mulls over his words. Again, he offers more questions than answers. ]
You're too old to keep playing coy, Sylus.
[ Reze finishes her work and applies a bit too much pressure when attaching his bandaid. ]
Who? Me? Your fruit farmer? Why would you leave if you thought I'd be in trouble?
[ For the first time ever she's taller than him. It distracts her briefly.
So that's what the top of his head looks like...
A brief mental digression - Reze grabs his face with both of her hands and makes him look at her. Her grip is firm and her hands are cold. ]
There's still something you're not telling me. It would have been safer to be with you.
[ Despite her clipped, terse delivery she assumes Sylus understands that Reze wouldn't wasted so much time seeking answers if she didn't care- about them and about him, in some capacity. She never did things she didn't care about if she could avoid it (always either a gifted student or a delinquent child under his tutelage)
.. And still, the pressure of her grip seems to escalate with every quiet word she speaks. She's needed some kind of stress ball for so long and now she's stumbled across the perfect one. ]
Actually, don't bother. I won't ask about anything else, but you have to tell me--
[ Finally, she lets go.
Her instruments go back into the first aid kit, one by one. ]
Why do you want me here? There's nothing I can do for you that one of your other goons can't.
[ at the old comment, there's a brief ghost of a smile. considering he basically mentored her for the years he had, perhaps it was only natural that she would come that conclusion. but, also... the nebulous concept of them gradually aging together wasn't entirely a bad thing to envision for however briefly it crosses his mind. that is, before it's absolved by more annoying considerations in the form of ... more rage baiting. ]
Am I too old, or are you just young? Perhaps, we should have really sent you to school for a real education, Miss. Then you'd see what "old" really looks like. [ a truly lame retort, and yet he seems to think it's comedic (it's really not).
despite saying that, he does fall silent again at her remark at "it would have been safer to be with you." there's a twinge of something in his expression, both a softening his features, and something else that lingers beneath that surface. there's a certain hollow honesty in the way he looks, before he feels the familiar sting of antiseptic and the pressure of her fingers. he's sure she intended for it to hurt, but it's just kind of ...
as his face is drawn towards his direction. his gaze matches hers, a certain intensity behind his eyes. when she pulls away, he eventually grabs hold of her hand. his fingers deftly leading her to place down her medical supplies. eventually, his fingers circle around her wrist. ] There is.
Who else is going to patch me up? [ and also be the one to shoot him. ]
i saw an early screening of the movie and it was life changing i hope you get to see it...
[ Reze can't imagine either of them aging- Sylus especially. Whether it was because he was (is) such a vital cornerstone of who she is today, or because she still existed in that limbo between chidlhood and adulthood she can't say, but it feels like it's been 20 years, it feels like they've never been apart at all.
He'd entered her life with a bang! Disappeared from it without a single word. And now he's returned with this newfound diplomacy. It's hard to decide what to make of it, but it was Sylus who'd taught her to not trust so readily.
Her eyes, uncertain and faraway, drift between his face and his hands. ]
I want a car. And a motorcycle.
[ Reze returns to herself.
She maneuvers their hands so that they're locked in a handshake. Just like a real business transaction. ]
If you ever do this again I'm going to-
[ her free hand clenches into a fist and then her fingers fly open, like dynamite, like fireworks. She mouths 'boom'. ]
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fighting for survival had never been anything new to sylus. he had simply just preferred to do it entirely alone. he never comprehended it as being a particularly lonely existence; he moved from one commission to the next, and just like that all traces of him would disappear overnight like a mist that recedes by daylight. but, who knew that even he would have found someone to share this less than ideal lifestyle with. he isn't sure what reason drove reze to stay with him— for her to swap identities, burner phones, and addresses time and time again. so much that some could have even called it an actual routine; a song and dance they knew by heart.
in reality, each time he sat up on the couch in the early morning hours and could hear her light footsteps, he expected it would have been the last time he heard them. but, in spite of these thoughts, she remained at his side. was it out of duty? obligation? or was he just like a habit that she couldn't stop circling back to. sylus doesn't pretend to understand, even as his gaze lingered on her in the dark in the close proximity that they shared.
he didn't expect for his own business to have taken as long as it had. for any normal person, a year, or two, or several, with no-contact would have likely been received horrifically, but sylus doesn't seem to focus any attention on that fact. doesn't think about how the means to an end may not have justified whatever grudge could or couldn't exist on her end. he isn't even sure now who sought out who first, but it's a fact that they were now in a car parked in front of his newest hideout. his eyes drifts to the rearview mirror, before he eventually speaks, something deliberate with each word. ]
If I knew you were going to stay, I would have brought you another [ horror ] novel to read before bed. [ is it more or less infuriating that he seems to act as if nothing had transpired between them, and yet he speaks with an odd sense of familiarity. either way, it's clear he has no desire to actually broach the topic of their past. still, despite how carefree the words may sound on paper, there's something intense in his gaze, especially as his fingers linger close to hers. ]
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[ It used to be a tradition - he'd bring back strange, pretty things from undisclosed places and via undiscussed means. Her favorites she'd kept, the others she'd sold out of spite and necessity both.
Reze pouts and makes a point to sound like the disgruntled teen she still was (even if in the time he's been gone she's become a full fledged adult - not that the concept of childhood still existed in their world, at least not for people them). ]
I'll forgive you just this one time if you let me drive your car.
[ It's nice. Nicer than anything he used to own.
In the near decade she's known him he's always had a penchant for nice things. It's the very reason why they'd ever met at all: spending her formative years in captivity made her as desperate as it did bold and she'd finally made the mistake of stealing from the wrong person. At least that's what she'd thought. Whether it was pity or pragmatism, her claims to self-sufficiency and near feral hunger seemed to do the trick.
But he hadn't put her to work in the way she assumed he would have, assumed most people in this city would when confronted with another mouth to feed. There were odd jobs, the occasional danger here and there, but whatever it was he was up to he kept her out of the worst of it until he no longer could.
The years where she was involved where some of the happiest of her life.
No matter how transient, how dangerous, or unstable their way of life was, Sylus was always there- a consistent presence, one that always let her eat first and eat well, kept the fear of death and pain at bay even despite how often it followed them around. It was pragmatism on her part too, to stick around. But overtime she'd found herself becoming loyal. One day she'd woken up and realized she cared less about watching her own back these days and more about his well-being.
And then, one day, just like that, he was gone. ]
Also no one owns physical books anymore. Keep up with the times.
[ She mirrors his familiarity, even if each word she speaks only serves to annoy her more and more.
Reze does not shy away from him, but she is lying in wait - something long buried bubbling to the surface of her throat. ]
apologies for how late this is! i've been working a lot of ot...
when reze speaks, he can barely conceal his genuine amusement, and instead he motions to the steering wheel with his chin. ] That depends. Am I going to be the one in the passenger seat? [ he says, his tone oddly easygoing, and maybe a little teasing.
while he seems to keep up this pretense like it's a game of cat and mouse, he'd like to think his feelings were still transparent somehow. after all, would they both be here if neither desired it? he'd like to believe they were simply two sides of the same coin, or like a flowers grown from the same soil. even if their seeds were carried away by a particularly harsh storm, they had a way of being reunited. ... or so, sylus may have uttered if he was being entirely honest.
instead...
at her returned familiarity, he feels his heart rate increase just slightly, and he draws his hands over hers. he does it naturally, almost as if he doesn't even notice he's doing it. his eyes don't veer to way his fingertips brush over her knuckles, and instead his eyes remain wholly focused on her. ]
Oh, so are you going to help me "keep up with the times," Miss? [ ... and then his hand moves past hers to open up the glove compartment.
who said he came completely empty-handed? ]
totally fine!
She knows he cared for her back then, but believing he still does is more terrifying a prospect than anything else in this city.
Maybe he thought she could still be useful. He'd taught her most of what she knew, and had done so with exacting discipline. It hadn't been easy when Sylus left but she'd survived, learned to thrive, even. She didn't enjoy any of what she did, nor did it make her feel good, but she was good at scaring, stealing and occasionally killing. A girls gotta' eat, yknow?
Somehow his hands seem even bigger now. She just barely flinches at the sudden contact, like she wasn't expecting it - maybe she's waiting for his fingers to phase right through hers, like a proper ghost. ]
Only if you ask me reaally nicely.
[ He smells like expensive cologne and something smokey when he brushes past her. The scent is nostalgic.
Reze peers over his arm, trying to see what he's reaching for. ]
no subject
though, the reasons she's looking at him so intently aren't the same as his.
or are they? he doesn't presume to know. as much as he may have trained her and kept to her side over the span of years, it isn't like he can read her mind. even if he might act like he can. but, sylus was nothing short of confident even at the worst of times.
while it isn't like she recoils from his touch, he does notice a hint of some sort of reaction in her. as if to test it, he almost lingers closer to her, letting his body lean forward more than he has to. even as he feigns some degree of ignorance while he does it. ]
Just like how you asked me so nicely?
[ he says this knowing she hadn't really asked him as much as she basically complained, but hey. either way, he takes out a small box and in it is a key with a small keychain with a gem on it attached. ] I figure you'll need it when we leave this place. [ it wouldn't be the first time they're moving.
but, can he say this when they've just met up again? is it a test?
maybe just a little. though, not exactly in the way she might think it is. ]
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(This is made doubly annoying by the fact that what he offers her is the last thing she expects.) ]
This isn't a gift. [ She holds the gem up to the light and appraises it with exaggerated scrutiny, mimicking and mocking so many of the jewelers she'd met while under Sylus's wing. ] It's an invitation.
You said "when we leave" - but I haven't said yes.
[ Her brain short circuits briefly after that. She wants to be mad and yell at him (in her own muted way), much like she used to when he would make decisions for the two of them. But Reze also wants more than that, to be acknowledged as an equal. These two things are at odds.
Reze maintains her unblinking, pleasant smile for just a second or two too long, processing what might come next.
(Years ago he'd turned her on to some old black and white shows from a society that likely no longer existed; it was about a family of eccentric monsters living in an old haunted house. Reze became fascinated by it, and Sylus had said something about how it made sense she would be - she was kind of like them in demeanor.)
She lets herself out of the car, knuckles wrapping across the door as she does. ]
Gimme' the tour first.
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You havenāt. [ he agrees. but, per usual, thereās no lack of self-assurance in his words, even as he grapples with the idea that she could say no. she always had the ability to, he thinks. while they may have inexorably been pulled any number of ways by the dangers that lurked beneath the surface of this city, itās also true that he valued her sense of agency. whatever she desired in this worldā¦ heād genuinely hoped sheād have it.
even this hope could have easily manifested as their future home-to-be ā¦ to be oddly reminiscent of the film she was obsessed with her in her youth. is more surprising that she secretly remembers, or that he does?
either way, itās probably an odd sentiment for someone like him to have, perhaps, but he doesnāt have to think twice about his feelings. he doesnāt have to weigh them out, and maybe that was the real source of his conviction.
when she leaves the car, sylus shakes his head again. itās not so much in exaggeration as it is in him thinking heās truly met his match in her. he follows around the other end of the car. he meets her at the front door, his peripherals turning back towards her, before a quiet. ]
So will you decide after the tour, or is it your plan to keep me waiting indefinitely? As you know I can be very patient, depending. [ theyāre not factitious words in a sense. after all, he had always been relatively methodical when it came to achieving his objectives. even if he didnāt always (never) publicize them. ]
no subject
Reze never found him to be particularly dishonest, but it wasn't like he was some shining beacon of transparency- any moments from their shared history that proved otherwise were blurred and colored by parts of her personal history, the things that came before Sylus and after.
She gives him a sidelong glance and slips through the door, not bothering to hold it open for him.
This place is a far cry from anywhere he'd taken her before. She feels the sticker shock with this one; the sports car wasn't surprising, he'd bailed her out of jail so he was obviously loaded. The price on her head wasn't exactly cheap- but it was sports car money, not Victorian-Mansion-Turned-High-Tech-Secret-Base.
Her nostalgia connects the dots between the decor and the black and white haunted house of her childhood, that had until now, only ever existed in various dingy living rooms across the city. It's a little gaudy (as she'd always found Sylus's taste to be), but it's as dark as it is cozy, which is where their preferences intersected.
It was kind of perfect, actually. She would voice this if it didn't activate her fight or flight instinct (which was another problem that predated Sylus, but one she also blamed him for on her bad days).
Instead she lets out a low whistle, appraising the foyer like one would a pretty girl. ]
The keychain is cute and all.. but now that I know a sports car is just pocket change to you - I don't know Sylus. I feel like I'm being lowballed.
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itās just another sign that maybe he left some sort of impact on her that wasnāt just teaching her how to assemble a gun in seconds, or the techniques to make people surrender without even raising a finger. if he were being entirely honest, itās also not unlike the way he occasionally put the same records on, the ones theyād often listen to together (albeit, maybe not without complaint). or in the manner in which he still habitually left the television set running, knowing full well no one was watching.
he watches the way reze explores the foyer with a certain softness in his eyes that was clearly reserved just for her. within linkon, anything could become a sign of weakness, and so he knows itās an expression he canāt just don anywhere. though, heād be hard-pressed to find a reason to smile in the world of praedators. a fact that seems unimportant at present. ]
Thatās because you havenāt seen the armory yet. [ he casually walks up behind her, his hand guiding her by the waist for a moment. or at least, that would be the case, but his fingers barely touch the fabric of her shirt, and itās almost like heās ushering her in its general direction. ]
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Like there's anything in there I need! [ She scoffs.
Her Evol gave her the ability to make things spontaneously combust. As a child her Evol was often erratic, following the highs and lows of her mood and occasional tantrum. Even back then she was quiet and rarely prone to yelling or crying. Instead, she made things explode, sometimes intentionally sometimes on accident. He'd helped her with that too, and with more patience than she'd ever expected.
Despite all that she lets him guide her toward his armory. All the way there her eyes drift around each room they pass through. She notices the record player, amber liquor and red wine, the giant bookcases that held manuscripts that probably pre-dated the Linkon they lived in today. She notices all the things she associates with him, and they're things that she'd been fond of too. Her favorite records were the crooning ballads, songs so old that quiet crackling filled every silent moment between songs. Reze isn't sure if she would care for any of these things if not for him; her own taste in music was loud, and involved a lot of screaming and aggressive drumming. She doesn't think he ever liked it much, but occasionally let her play it in the car on long drives (though at a lower volume than she'd like).
Sylus unlocks the armory and leaves her wide-eyed at the sheer amount of weaponry that lines every wall. ]
.. This is kinda' excessive. Even for you, Sylus.
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You never know. Bold of you to presume your evol will get you out of everything. [ considering she was just bailed outā¦ he says these words easily, amusement still lacing his voice, but itās a point he may have said not unlike a teacher might make a point. maybe itās just another habit, but theyāre also not words he pushes. he simply lays them out, and continues to enjoy the hallway just filled with their collective footsteps. one after the other, sometimes in tune with on me another.
he can tell sheās curious about the place in spite of whatever reservations she has. that part hasnāt changed either, he thinks, and thereās a touch of fondness as he does. he figures if she accepts, she would have more than enough things to keep her attention here as opposed to anywhere else. ]
This might be the first time anyoneās said that. [ he says knowing full where there is no one else who could enter his space like this. or who has been here, actually.
he picks up a gun from the table and places it in her hands. ]
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[ She's teasing, and when she takes the gun from him she pretends to have clumsy hands. It looks like she might even drop it.
Reze plays at being inexperienced with a weapon, forcing some caricature of someone much more naive than who they both know her to be. It's an instinctual response to the pinch of annoyance she feels at this scenario she's concocted.
She knows this is her brain reminding her body to not get comfortable. Nostalgia did not change the fact that this was not her home. This was a place built by someone who had proven to be a stranger and no better than anyone else. The years of its construction were marked by near constant misery.
Reze was relieved of it only when she was able to remember who she was before Sylus. ]
So this isn't actually an invite- [ Reze points the gun at him. It fits perfectly in her hands, and in the shiny steel she can see her reflection - murky and distorted as it is. ]
It's a job interview.
[ When she aims she squints one eye shut. One of the first things Sylus had taught her not to do. ]
Pew pew!
[ The gun shudders in time with the fake gunshots. Pretending like there's actual recoil is a nice touch, if she were to say so herself. ]
noooo not me finding my phone tag typos days later
Is that what you think? [ he doesnāt confirm nor deny her teasing. he opts on wearing the smile (perhaps, he hasnāt really dropped it) he usually does around her; equal parts self-assured and fascinated by where she planned to go with all of this.
was she making a statement of how little she thought of any knowledge he may have imparted on her in their past? or was this another kind of rebellion to which heās only fanned the flames of with his careless words.
but, while he seems to savor every second of her act, she clearly wasnāt the only one who could put on the same bravado. though, his may have been less a performance as much as it was just another form of self-expression. except, like with everything involving sylus, while it is direct, it also leaves a lot to interpretation.
when she points her gun at him and shoots— ] Oh, it looks like you missed. [ he steps in closer, and curls his fingers over her hand thatās holding the gun. he forcibly draws the gun closer to him, enough where the end of it is pointed straight at his heart. ] You know, the target is right here. Did you forget? [ still, he wonders if she feels his heartbeat travel through the body of the gun. ]
1/2 haha I didnt even notice
Jeez.. can you be normal for just like, two seconds?
[ Hypocrisy, maybe. But wasnāt he supposed to be the mature one here? ]
Youāre so dramatic. [ Thereās a note of anger that slips through, poking a hole in her composure. Thatās his thing though, backing her into a wall, waiting out the dishonesty until she grew exhausted by lying. ]
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[ She tries to flex her fingers despite Sylusās ironclad grip. ]
But the ditzy thing wasnāt ever going to work on you, huh?
[ She can feel the metronome of his heartbeat. His pulse beats steadily against her wrist. ]
What if I was here to kill you? Then what?
[ she wishes!
Not because she actually wanted to kill Sylus. The thought of that makes her stomach drop.
It would just be nice to have any modicum of control over where sheās ended up.]
the cost of tagging at work
I did. [ he doesn't clarify what part he's really responding to. that this was his attempt at "normal." their normal?
or maybe that he was simply affirming that he had left his guard down. even now, he's focused on her enough where he could have theoretically been ambushed, maybe. no, perhaps he might have trusted her to react first. actually is there a shred of some other emotion beneath all of this in which he wonders if she doubts him...
whichever it ends up being, he squeezes her hand. ]
Then, you could try. You always had that right. [ he says easily, but it isn't like he would necessarily go down just like that. surely their fates were intertwined too deeply for one of them to simply go without the other. ]
Why didn't you?
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She assumed it was some old boss cutting her a deal, or even some paypig who'd managed to make themselves useful for once. Sylus was the last person she expected to see, and much to her annoyance, he was the only person she would even want to see. ]
You already know the answer. [ Her fingers squirm against the grip of the gun and Sylus's hand. ] You skimped me. I never got my last check.
[ Not that she hadn't made off with more than that. ]
Where did you go Sylus? [ Proper gun safety isn't really on her mind when she tries to pull free from him. Why be careful when he's given her permission? It's not as if something this stupid could kill someone like Sylus.]
And don't tell me you're here just to pay me back.
[ It's hard to say if he lets her go or she just finally scores one point against him. Reze tips the gun upwards and it fires the bullet whizzes just past his ear. ]
no subject
this is all the more when peppered with his own complicated swirl of emotions and desires. even now, when they've reunited and he's all but decided to leave it to reze's pace, he sees he's likely miscalculated somewhere.
or maybe he hasn't. he hears it in the emotion in her voice, and even in the way she finally asks the question(s) she's likely been harboring all this time. ] So this isn't proper payment? [ he starts, but whatever words he may have had prepared at the tip of his tongue, is clipped by the crack of a gunshot. while most would have reflexively recoiled, even from the sheer proximity of the sound—
sylus stands his ground. he actually doesn't know when she's managed to weasel out of his grip and he's both proud and a little surprised. this fact only seems to dawn on him when his fingers come up to graze the side of his ear. surprisingly the bullet did manage to just clip the edge of skin and he feels the sticky residue of blood. to which he releases a small sigh. ] If that's your final answer, then I'll have to tell you mine.
[ he holds his hand out, just the light splotch of blood on his fingertips. bright and red as if they were some sort of offering to her.
did she really want to hear the answer to her question? still, it looks like he's ready to talk. ]
Sorry for the delay here!
Reze feels guilt and shame bubble in the pit of her stomach.
The whole thing had been childishā so much for being seen as an adult, as an equal.
Her hands buzz from the force of the recoil, every nerve in her body on edge despite this not being the first or last time sheāll shoot a gun. She fights her instinct to run away and tucks the gun away and out of sight, the barrel is still hot to the touch, and she feels the metal burn her skin once itās hidden underneath her shirt. ]
Itās not my final anything.
[ Thereās no more anger in her voice when she takes his hand, paying no mind to the blood sheās drawn even as it stains her fingertips. ]
Youāre bleeding.
[ Her grip is firm. Reze tugs on his hand and guides him out of the vault as if she knows where sheās going. ]
Whereās your first aid kit? Iāll helpā
[ with his wound, obviously. Itās an attempt at making things right. But itās instinct too, a vestige of their past, Sylus returning home at a concerningly late hour (or sometimes, after days), filled with shrapnel and open wounds. ]
gently covers the time stamp
while it may have been a necessity— insurance, and the only logical conclusion anyone could draw in perilous circumstances like theirs... he feels a certain hurt in her he may have not expected, nor intended.
when she grabs onto his hand and begins leading him, he gives a hint of humor. a dark sort of timbre, almost like a laugh. almost. ] I didn't even notice. [ an obvious lie. ] If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were already regretting leaving your mark. [ it's no time for jokes, but he does end up switching his grip, letting his fingers slip from hers, only to hold her wrist and lead her down the next room.
he then gestures to a medical cabinet, it's a bathroom, and he leans his back against the vanity sink. ]
Would wait forever for ur Sylus
Wasnāt it you who told me never leave a trace of myself behind?
[ She sets all of her supplies across whatever space remains along the marble sink. Gauze, ointment, bandages, all in a neat line like little soldiers waiting at attention. ]
Sit down.
[ she points at the toilet seatā even now he seemed to tower over her like some imposing monument, dedicated to near decade thatās passed since she saw him last.
Despite it all her hands are gentle, careful, as she examines his wound. ]
No stitches..
[ she mumbles quietly to herself. And once her inspection is complete she gets to work cleaning the wound.
This is the first time since their reunion that sheās seen him up close. Itās not just that he looks olderā thereās something more subdued, more worn about him now. Wherever heād been he hadnāt been taking it easy. ]
Where were you?
[ sheās tired of dancing around it. ]
<3 i also just want to say i see so much reze on my tl and my eyes are blessed
But, didn't you? You had no issue clearing our safe.
[ "our safe." but, it's clear by sylus' words he held no particular contempt about it.
if their current safehold was anything to go by, it's clear that they weren't struggling. then again, being the most notorious assassin in the south certainly carried its own connotations. ... and issues, naturally, but they weren't here to discuss those. instead, he releases another huff in humor before settling down on the closed toilet seat as requested. of course, he makes an obnoxious show of it too. she wasn't wrong about him being annoying. ]
Ever's lapdogs ambushed me. [ he angles his head naturally, his cheek leaning into her hand... just slightly, before she pulls away to work on the wound. ] And it looked like their next target was... [ he looks back at her, before shaking his head slightly, as if to play it off. sylus doesn't necessarily think it explains away why he didn't come find her sooner. however that answer was even easier for him, actually.
he just chooses not to put into words. ]
MOVIE HYPE IS SO REAL seeing her animated and hearing her for the first time š
Reze only half-listens, the other half idly fixated on the fact that Sylus allows her so much closer now despite the time and distance he'd put between them. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, right?
Or maybe he did finally see her as an equal. As anything but a stray and another mouth to feed.
Her brow furrows, lips pulled into a line as she mulls over his words. Again, he offers more questions than answers. ]
You're too old to keep playing coy, Sylus.
[ Reze finishes her work and applies a bit too much pressure when attaching his bandaid. ]
Who? Me? Your fruit farmer? Why would you leave if you thought I'd be in trouble?
[ For the first time ever she's taller than him. It distracts her briefly.
So that's what the top of his head looks like...
A brief mental digression - Reze grabs his face with both of her hands and makes him look at her. Her grip is firm and her hands are cold. ]
There's still something you're not telling me. It would have been safer to be with you.
[ Despite her clipped, terse delivery she assumes Sylus understands that Reze wouldn't wasted so much time seeking answers if she didn't care- about them and about him, in some capacity. She never did things she didn't care about if she could avoid it (always either a gifted student or a delinquent child under his tutelage)
.. And still, the pressure of her grip seems to escalate with every quiet word she speaks. She's needed some kind of stress ball for so long and now she's stumbled across the perfect one. ]
Actually, don't bother. I won't ask about anything else, but you have to tell me--
[ Finally, she lets go.
Her instruments go back into the first aid kit, one by one. ]
Why do you want me here? There's nothing I can do for you that one of your other goons can't.
SHE'S BEAUTIFUL!!!! PERFECT!!!
Am I too old, or are you just young? Perhaps, we should have really sent you to school for a real education, Miss. Then you'd see what "old" really looks like. [ a truly lame retort, and yet he seems to think it's comedic (it's really not).
despite saying that, he does fall silent again at her remark at "it would have been safer to be with you." there's a twinge of something in his expression, both a softening his features, and something else that lingers beneath that surface. there's a certain hollow honesty in the way he looks, before he feels the familiar sting of antiseptic and the pressure of her fingers. he's sure she intended for it to hurt, but it's just kind of ...
as his face is drawn towards his direction. his gaze matches hers, a certain intensity behind his eyes. when she pulls away, he eventually grabs hold of her hand. his fingers deftly leading her to place down her medical supplies. eventually, his fingers circle around her wrist. ] There is.
Who else is going to patch me up? [ and also be the one to shoot him. ]
i saw an early screening of the movie and it was life changing i hope you get to see it...
He'd entered her life with a bang! Disappeared from it without a single word. And now he's returned with this newfound diplomacy. It's hard to decide what to make of it, but it was Sylus who'd taught her to not trust so readily.
Her eyes, uncertain and faraway, drift between his face and his hands. ]
I want a car. And a motorcycle.
[ Reze returns to herself.
She maneuvers their hands so that they're locked in a handshake. Just like a real business transaction. ]
If you ever do this again I'm going to-
[ her free hand clenches into a fist and then her fingers fly open, like dynamite, like fireworks. She mouths 'boom'. ]
- everything you own.