i_speak_softly | Luceti Appointments

[Robert doesn't quite lean back into the touch, but there's a noticeable shift of pressure to the shoulder.]

... I... I m-missed that too...

...

[Wait.]

... You... you could not?

Mm. [He turns his head to rest his beak in Robert's hair.] A few times you rolled over at night and I woke up inside you, but... this is better.

[...]

... Wh-what exactly do you mean...? [Any interpretation of that Robert can come up with doesn't sound like something he shouldn't have noticed.]

[Don pulls back, blinking at the scientist in confusion.]

Robert, I've been here. I was invisible and... [He searches for the right word.] - incorporeal. With enough focus I could briefly affect the physical world, but ... you didn't notice me.

... [Suddenly it makes significantly more sense that he didn't notice Don was in the house.]

I th-thought you meant that... you had been here o-ordinarily and I simply had not noticed...

[His expression turns to one of disbelief.]

Robert, no one can be that drunk.

[With a shameful edge:] I was not m-merely drunk.

[A sharp look. What else was going on that he doesn't know about?]

As I s-said... my contact with Tsinku produced... u-unusual effects once I attempted to... re-establish the b-bond. Combined with alcohol, the effects have been... a-almost hallucinatory...

[He stops then, twisting his fingers slightly, before continuing once more.]

It was... pleasant, I s-suppose, or... or more pleasant than... w-worrying all the time.

[Robert, how could you. Don's expression hardens, and his voice is dangerously quiet.]

You told me you were done with all of that.

[Mechanically:] The m-mechanisms that led me to... abuse hallucinatory substances at one time are... still p-present. It was... the s-situation that was no longer present... until r-recently.

[Regardless of his words, though, Robert knows that he really doesn't have an excuse for abusing an altered state, and he shrinks inward away from Don once more.]

[There is no excuse. Don turns away and stacks up the empty dishes angrily.]

You promised me.

[Robert picks at the skin on his hands slowly, the sick feeling in him pressing at him inexorably from all sides. Why would he promise to stop a behaviour that he's never even gotten help for? And yet Don's convinced that he has. There isn't much he can say about it.

So he doesn't speak. He gets the feeling there isn't much he could say that would stave off anger right now. Logic may prevail in most cases, but it doesn't do much for rage.]

[Well. At least Robert isn't trying to defend his behavior. Don takes the tray and storms out. A few minutes in the kitchen should help him cool off.]

[Robert doesn't go anywhere, of course. There's no reason to. But this gives him plenty of time to think about just how stupid this all was... how stupid he was. How pathetic it was that he tried to run away from his problems yet again.

It didn't work before. Why did he think it would work now? Why is it that desperation is such an alluring siren song to him?

Whether Don comes back or not, eventually Robert will shift into being a small ball on the bedspread, not crying but simply staring into space.]

[Don returns after a short while to find Robert in that state, and addresses him from the doorway.]

I poured all the alcohol down the sink and now there's hardly anything in the fridge. I'm going out to get some groceries.

[If Robert wants to say anything before Don leaves again, this would be his chance.]

[Being spoken to from the doorway hurts as much, if not more, than everything else. That feeling of standoffishness hasn't been felt between them since... well, the last time something major happened. Robert doesn't really know how to deal with this kind of distance anymore, even if it exists because of what he did. So all he has to say is a whispered:]

Th-thank you.

[Don leaves without another word, and returns sometime later, as Robert will know by the banging in the kitchen. He doesn't sound as furious as earlier, but he's clearly still angry.]

[While Don had left, Robert had ended up drifting in and out of fitful half-sleep. He's too physically broken to actually get proper rest, but the banging shocks him out of the stupor he'd been in.

Tiredly, he straightens himself out, trying his best to adjust his mussed hair into something approaching normalcy. He doesn't know whether Don wants him to approach or not, and part of him would honestly rather hide in his room. But he's also been doing too much hiding for the past while to justify that.

So he gets up, with some mental pretense of maybe not going into the kitchen. Still, it'd be obvious to a ninja that there were footsteps nearby.]

[Don does notice, and without breaking his rhythm he gets a glass from the cabinet, fills it with water, and sets it on the table. Hydrate yourself, drunkard.]

[Robert practically slinks into the kitchen, immediately gravitating away from Don and towards the table. He takes the glass without comment, drinking it slowly in a way that belies his realized thirst.

He can't be silent forever, though. There's going to have to be some discussion on this eventually.]

[Discussion will begin once the perishables are put away. Even after three years in Luceti, Don still has a Thing about safe preservation of food.]

I talked to someone about you.

[Robert hesitates mid-swig, putting his glass down on the table.]

... Did you...?

I also signed you up for the social event he's hosting next weekend.

[Even though I know you'll hate it goes unsaid.]

[Unsurprisingly, Robert does not look thrilled.]

... Why...? What is it e-even for...?

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