backwaterbelle | eudio

[Seeing those would break her heart and spark fruitless anger because there's nothing that Rogue can do now to take away that experience, but she could understand the complicated matter of crazy parents. See: Mystique.

He may see it as pathetic, but so much more clicks into place about him, confirming suspicions she had simply from observing. It doesn't change her opinion of her friend, and it sure as hell doesn't make her think any less than him. Quite the opposite actually. He's a survivor in more ways than physically still being alive after years in an apocalyptic world. Rogue stays there with him, hand still cupping his jaw as her thumb moved through the scruff on his chin with a slight smile.]

Sometimes somethin' ain't there for so long it's better to forget about it as a possibility. Least that's how it was with me. Hard to miss somethin' you ain't never had properly before y'know?

Ain't something I think about. It don't mean anything to me. [ Who cares? He's a survivor, yeah, and he's survived just fine without sex or dating. Sometimes he thinks about concepts like 'asexual', but all that shit's beyond him, and it's not entirely accurate. Not innately, anyway. Just how it's turned out. Daryl's not crying himself to sleep over being lonely and he's not jacking off non-stop, he's ... he's just himself. It bugs him when he's pressed but he moves away or says no and that's that. He doesn't want to change it. The defense mechanism of apathy has been built up over so many years as to be effective, and the thought of tearing down that protection is terrifying.

(But he has to change it.) ]

I want 'em to be okay though, [ he says quietly, almost a harsh whisper. ] I can't.. I can't leave knowing I could have stopped it and didn't.

[Rogue slowly pulls her hand back while still standing close, putting the ball entirely back in his quart. Her head shakes at his second statement, knowing that to be incorrect on at least some levels.] Remember when ah told you ‘bout my power? [She pauses so she can search his eyes with hers.] That meant somethin’ sugah, least to me.

[When he speaks again, her heart twists for him. He’s here for his people, just like her, and her empathy in that moment ran deep, nearly taking her breath away. She wants to pull him into a tight embrace, but is uncertain as to how he’ll react in that moment.]

You’re a good man, a strong man Daryl. You can do this. But, if you want some help, ah’ve got your back.

You didn't have a choice. Neither did I. 'Til I did.

[ And his choice was: Fuck no. A choice both unhealthy and self-protective. Daryl understands Rogue, he really does. He's just not there yet.

After a moment he reaches out and takes her hands in his, just holding them lightly between them, staring down at them. Hers are ... pretty, almost delicate-looking, against his scarred and weathered skin. ]

Ain't none of those things. This is ... okay. Though.

Feels weird havin' that choice after so long without it. [It's part question and part statement about herself, one that she expected held overlap with his experience.

She honestly didn't expect him to initiate anymore touching, but she smiles gently at the feel of his calloused hands around her own, fingertips nudging his in a little gesture of quiet affection.]

Ah think you are all of those things. [His hands receive a little squeeze.] Ah'm glad sugah.

[ Daryl doesn't hate it - hugging her, holding her hand. He doesn't hate holding Alice's hand either, or sitting with their shoulders pressed up against each other. He thinks-- he thinks maybe if it were Carol, it'd be easier. But she's not here. There is some ease, at least, in simply thinking of her.

He's quiet for a long moment, not looking up from their joined hands.

Eventually, ]

You wanna order take out?

[It's always easier with someone from home, or at least someone who can relate directly to one's experiences. She's run into it here, with Erik, and it's both emotionally dangerous and beautifully comfortable. In other words, right in Rogue's wheelhouse. See: older men with issues.

She remains quiet, dropping her gaze to a midpoint between their hands and his face so she can watch both. At his question, her stomach makes a noise and she can't help but chuckle.]

Ah think that was a 'yes'.

[ Alright then, food. Daryl goes about figuring out where to order from (pan-Asian of some kind; he doesn't actually really know the difference) and what to get, efficient and obviously thankful for the break from the subject at hand. This is his doing - he brought it up. But his on-board batteries for powering emotionally significant conversation are very small.

He ends up on the sofa, staring at the giant pink narwhal, not sure what he's doing. ]

[Rogue generally stays out of his way, but she does request something in particular for dinner rather than him ordering blindly for her. There's understanding on her end that he needs to gather himself a bit, recharge his batteries emotionally, but there's also not much else to do in his apartment that wouldn't be considered snooping. Her solution is to give him a bit of time, and then bring her nearly full beer over with a second, fresh one for Daryl.

Once she offers it to him, Rogue takes a seat across from him on the coffee table.]

If you want me to leave, ah can head out after dinner, but ah like spendin' time with you.

[ There's not even anything interesting to be snooped; the apartment is pretty empty besides the mentioned points of (dis)interest. Though Daryl has been spending some time here, it's obviously still not very much time.

He looks over at Rogue, expression unreadable. After a moment he takes the offered beer and holds it lightly, not opening it just yet. ]

Stay.

[She's quiet for as long as Daryl needs relative silence, waiting patiently for his word or body language on the matter, her face gently concerned. At his word, he receives a warm smile because it's a step and she's proud.

In an effort to lighten the mood, she smirked while taking a sip of her beer, eyebrows waggling.] One step closer to braidin' your hair. Aw, yiss.

[ They were having such a nice moment. Daryl leans back, eyes narrowed. Suspicious. ]

Well now you gotta leave.

[ --He's not serious, but still. Leave his hair alone. It's probably too greasy for you to tolerate anyway, Rogue, at least most of the time. He showered last night so he's okay for now. Decontaminated, if you will. ]

[They were, but she didn't want him to get lost in his thoughts too deep. She knows how that road can twist far away. Rogue merely smirks at his comment, taking another sip of her beer while her eyes playfully challenged his suspicious peer.

She'll tell him how happy she is that he's asked her to stay later.]

But the food ain't even here. That'd be mighty rude of you sugah.

Who's lying to you telling tales about me being polite? [ He says in a scoffing tone, but it's clear (hopefully) that he doesn't actually expect Rogue to leave. Daryl doesn't have too many tells, 'acting' folding into his standard behavior almost seamlessly. ] My hair looks fine.

Ah got a real good source.

[She throws him a wink even under the terrible weight of his scolding, even daring to reach out (slowly as to not startle him) and attempt to ruffle his hair and mess all his styling efforts up. Ha. Styling efforts.]

You always wear it long?

eudio | ic inbox

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i thought i replied to this wtf @me

hdu