This isn't what he wanted. He never wanted to worry about other people. That's a ridiculous thing, and he has no reason to get closer to anyone at this point. It would be utterly pointless, really, and... and he's not growing attached, and he needs to shove this worry aside because he doesn't need it.
So he's snappish when he responds, all of the worry and concern and irritation and frustration coming together.]
I don't want your apologies. Keep them to yourself.
[Hmph!!]
Someone who is only a hypocrite like you should focus on yourself before attempting to force your beliefs on other people, if this is how you truly are in the end.
[ He's angry. She'd suspected as much, had prepared herself for it, but the acerbic way he snaps out his words still manages to make her wince on the other end.
Of course he'd be upset, and right when she'd genuinely wanted him to realize that her caring about him had absolutely nothing to do with ulterior motives. Of course he'd conclude that someone who couldn't even take care of her own health would be a hypocrite for worrying about others.
And she can't properly explain herself, either. A good doctor wouldn't be worried about things like empty apartments or neglect enough sleep to not even notice her own condition. ]
Ah... I can't say I don't deserve that.
[ But all the same, she sounds as though she's about to cry. ]
[Oh god don't cry. She does deserve it, and he knows she does--it simplifies things that she knows she does too. Everything she has said and done is ridiculous in light of the fact that she can't even look after herself, and it's frustrating for everyone involved, but especially for people like Leon who already have so much trouble trusting people in general.
Why should he trust someone who can't even look after herself, to look after him? What a laughable thought.
(Why would he want a repeat of someone who can't take care of herself to only hurt him in the end? He may as well save himself the pain now.)
...Except then the tone registers, and... it takes a lot of the wind out of his sails, because he's never been good about crying people, and especially not crying people who are like very kind motherly figures it just feels wrong.
So instead of angry, he just sounds sullen.]
... You do deserve it. Take care of yourself next time instead of worrying over me. I don't want your worry.
[And certainly not at the cost of her own health, though that doesn't quite escape him.]
And... then he's going to spend like twenty minutes debating going to see her or not. He... still has things to say!!! And he wants to know how she's doing, for real. He didn't exactly get a proper status update.
But he's also still so, so bitter and so irritated.
Eventually, he does make his way there, so it's closer to 35 minutes later that he finally shows up
And then he hesitates outside of her door for a little bit, dithering. Should he really do this? Maybe he should just go back. This is still dangerously close to caring--
But ultimately, Chaltier encourages him to go onward, and he sighs, straightens his shoulder and knocks, before opening the door and striding in as though he was totally not having a crisis and as though he absolutely has full confidence in his appearing here.]
[ She'd half-expected him to show up, but she's still slightly surprised to hear the knock and the slow creak of the door (now fixed, thanks Kogami) opening. When he enters, she's sitting on the couch under a blanket, paler than usual, features taut with the strain of her headache (but bump on her head healed). She moves to stand - slowly - with a faint smile. ]
[Yeah, things he is not going to do: sit on the couch with her. Nope, he'll go ahead and stay standing over here with his arms crossed like the brood-y teenager he is.
Besides, her words are startling enough.]
You don't have anything to thank me for. Don't be ridiculous.
[ Simple-- but she makes her slow, careful way over to him.
... And then reaches out, to pull him into a gentle hug. A brief one, because everything still aches a bit, but he'll just have to deal with the contact. He's yelled at her-- she's accepted it. But she needs to convey this much. ]
Thank you, Leon. I'll be more careful from now on.
[She's coming closer why is she coming closer--Leon has to fight the urge to back up, because his pride just won't let him, but he really has no idea why she would want to approach him at this point and didn't he tell her to sit back down--]
Obviously, Leon is not used to hugs. People don't... hug him. He doesn't have the sort of relationships that encourage hugs, he have never had those sorts of relationships, and he has never really had to deal with something like this. Even though it should have been obvious, it blindsides him, and he stiffens immediately, tensing up.
He'd shove her off, he really would, except he's worried that she'd fall and hurt herself with how unsteady she seems to be on her feet, so the only thing he can do is endure it, uncomfortable and tense and discomfited. Physical touch is already difficult enough for him to endure. Something like a hug, which is that intimate and gentle of a gesture, is even worse.]
[Later, perhaps, he'll be able to think on it again, when he's calmer, and realize that it wasn't all bad. Maybe. But for right now, all he can think about is how almost panic-inducing something like that is for someone like him, and the only blessing is that it's a short hug. She releases him, and he takes a few hasty steps back, pride be damned.
He needs the space.
And he's still tense, though he manages to school his expression into something a bit less wide-eyed and panicked through long practice if nothing else, and he's barely even processed what she said. Was she thanking him again? Should he just--go? He doesn't know what to do now, and it's making it very hard to come up with a response.
Eventually, though, he manages to settle himself as best he can, clearing his throat.]
Don't-- don't touch me.
[Another step back, almost on automatic, and tenseness adds urgency to his tone.]
You... say whatever you want. Do what you want. It doesn't matter to me. I did what I had to do, but don't mistake it as care.
[He's seen that Otome is okay, hasn't he?
That's enough. An awkward beat (for some reason, he doesn't feel like he can just... leave, and he's not sure why), and then:]
I'm leaving.
[With that, he feels like he can turn and go, which he does hastily and without a lot of aplomb or style, in contrast to his typical prideful flair.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
audio; 2/2
This isn't what he wanted. He never wanted to worry about other people. That's a ridiculous thing, and he has no reason to get closer to anyone at this point. It would be utterly pointless, really, and... and he's not growing attached, and he needs to shove this worry aside because he doesn't need it.
So he's snappish when he responds, all of the worry and concern and irritation and frustration coming together.]
I don't want your apologies. Keep them to yourself.
[Hmph!!]
Someone who is only a hypocrite like you should focus on yourself before attempting to force your beliefs on other people, if this is how you truly are in the end.
[Oh yeah he's pissed.]
audio;
Of course he'd be upset, and right when she'd genuinely wanted him to realize that her caring about him had absolutely nothing to do with ulterior motives. Of course he'd conclude that someone who couldn't even take care of her own health would be a hypocrite for worrying about others.
And she can't properly explain herself, either. A good doctor wouldn't be worried about things like empty apartments or neglect enough sleep to not even notice her own condition. ]
Ah... I can't say I don't deserve that.
[ But all the same, she sounds as though she's about to cry. ]
audio;
Why should he trust someone who can't even look after herself, to look after him? What a laughable thought.
(Why would he want a repeat of someone who can't take care of herself to only hurt him in the end? He may as well save himself the pain now.)
...Except then the tone registers, and... it takes a lot of the wind out of his sails, because he's never been good about crying people, and especially not crying people who are like very kind motherly figures it just feels wrong.
So instead of angry, he just sounds sullen.]
... You do deserve it. Take care of yourself next time instead of worrying over me. I don't want your worry.
[And certainly not at the cost of her own health, though that doesn't quite escape him.]
audio;
[ But it's not as though she can stop-- rather, she won't, and she takes a shaky breath, forcing her voice to steady. ]
But I'd like to apologize in-person. I'm afraid I can't come and see you right now, but here's my address.
[ He's welcome to come if he wants to keep yelling at her! The door's unlocked!! ]
audio > action;
GOODBYE, OTOME.
And... then he's going to spend like twenty minutes debating going to see her or not. He... still has things to say!!! And he wants to know how she's doing, for real. He didn't exactly get a proper status update.
But he's also still so, so bitter and so irritated.
Eventually, he does make his way there, so it's closer to 35 minutes later that he finally shows up
And then he hesitates outside of her door for a little bit, dithering. Should he really do this? Maybe he should just go back. This is still dangerously close to caring--
But ultimately, Chaltier encourages him to go onward, and he sighs, straightens his shoulder and knocks, before opening the door and striding in as though he was totally not having a crisis and as though he absolutely has full confidence in his appearing here.]
...Otome.
action;
It's good to see you.
no subject
Sit down, before you fall on your face.
[Sheesh!]
Haven't you caused enough trouble so far?
[He just...crosses his arms, looking thoroughly uncomfortable.]
no subject
I've been told to stay inside for the rest of the day, anyway.
... But I did want to thank you, so I'm glad you came.
no subject
Besides, her words are startling enough.]
You don't have anything to thank me for. Don't be ridiculous.
[He didn't do anything.]
no subject
[ In a calm and composed fashion, of course. ]
no subject
You don't have anything to thank me for.
[Insistently!!]
I didn't do anything. [He had to ask someone else to help her, even--how pitiful is that?]
no subject
[ Sorry, Leon, she's pushing herself up again. ]
If you hadn't done anything, I would still be on the floor.
no subject
[He sounds tenser at that, but that's mostly because he doesn't know what she's going to do and that makes him nervous. Why are you standing up!!!]
I didn't do anything worth thanking me over, so--just let it go.
no subject
[ Simple-- but she makes her slow, careful way over to him.
... And then reaches out, to pull him into a gentle hug. A brief one, because everything still aches a bit, but he'll just have to deal with the contact. He's yelled at her-- she's accepted it. But she needs to convey this much. ]
Thank you, Leon. I'll be more careful from now on.
1/idk something
no subject
Obviously, Leon is not used to hugs. People don't... hug him. He doesn't have the sort of relationships that encourage hugs, he have never had those sorts of relationships, and he has never really had to deal with something like this. Even though it should have been obvious, it blindsides him, and he stiffens immediately, tensing up.
He'd shove her off, he really would, except he's worried that she'd fall and hurt herself with how unsteady she seems to be on her feet, so the only thing he can do is endure it, uncomfortable and tense and discomfited. Physical touch is already difficult enough for him to endure. Something like a hug, which is that intimate and gentle of a gesture, is even worse.]
3/3 geronimoes out
He needs the space.
And he's still tense, though he manages to school his expression into something a bit less wide-eyed and panicked through long practice if nothing else, and he's barely even processed what she said. Was she thanking him again? Should he just--go? He doesn't know what to do now, and it's making it very hard to come up with a response.
Eventually, though, he manages to settle himself as best he can, clearing his throat.]
Don't-- don't touch me.
[Another step back, almost on automatic, and tenseness adds urgency to his tone.]
You... say whatever you want. Do what you want. It doesn't matter to me. I did what I had to do, but don't mistake it as care.
[He's seen that Otome is okay, hasn't he?
That's enough. An awkward beat (for some reason, he doesn't feel like he can just... leave, and he's not sure why), and then:]
I'm leaving.
[With that, he feels like he can turn and go, which he does hastily and without a lot of aplomb or style, in contrast to his typical prideful flair.]