June 4, 1986 - Like Someone's Walking on My Grave

[faithfulclublet]

He isn't sure why it's something that happens. Isn't sure why things can get so absolutely overwhelming when everyone and everything else is still so sunny. It's likely at least partially to do with the same hormones that are having him grow like a weed, but he doesn't think that's all.

He especially doesn't think that's all today, when he wakes up from a nightmare he can't remember to a sense of dread that lingers the rest of the day.

It's got him moving in a haze. It's got him not really paying attention when people are talking to him.

It has him struggling to string the words together when he finally realizes he needs to answer a question he didn't hear, "--Sorry. What was that, again?"

Comments

[faithfulclublet]

"Me?"

Duh. Of course him, she just said 'you' specifically. He shakes his head just slightly to clear it.

"'m all right. Maybe a bit tired."

That's got to be it.

[theleast]

Tired. Tired is fine. Tired is a thing that happens.

Her brow knits anyway. Her fingers twitch to touch his arm but don't quite make it.

"You-- should rest, then. This isn't important."

[faithfulclublet]

"No-- no, it's all right."

Because tired he can power through. Tired he can let himself fight in a way he can't really this sense of foreboding.

He'll give it his best shot anyways.

"What's up?"

[theleast]

Her lips stay pressed shut for a moment, eyes flicking over his features. Even now, even tired and a little upset, they're wonderful to study.

"It's silly. Honestly. I just wanted to know what you were doing this afternoon."

[faithfulclublet]

"Oh."

He rubs at his eyes just slightly, then smiles.

"Other'n training with Ed, nothing much. Why?"

[theleast]

"No reason. Just-- hoping you'll have a chance to rest, really."

Because he's tired. Because her heartaches painfully when he's not happy.

Because he'e beyond important.

[faithfulclublet]

He manages a little better grin, then, one hand coming to rest on her shoulder reassuringly.

"I'll be fine, 'gine, honest. No need t'fuss."

[theleast]

He's older. He's taller. He's got that handsome quality about him that boys take on when they begin to genuinely, unconsciously, turn into men.

It takes her a second to untie her tongue.

"...I-I just. Worry. Be-- because we're friends. And you-- worry about your-- friends."

[faithfulclublet]

"'s sweet of you."

And he really does appreciate it. That much should be obvious.

[theleast]

She always perks up when complimented. Of course she perks up when Andrew compliments her.

"You're a good friend. You're supposed to be good to good friends."

[faithfulclublet]

"Well, y'go above and beyond that."

And it's lovely. It really is. It helps make even this haze of being upset a little better.

"'ppreciate it."

[theleast]

He sounds a little brighter. He sounds a little more like himself. It brightens her own worried smile just a hair.

"Have you eaten? That-- that'll help too, I tihnk."

[faithfulclublet]

"...Food."

Yeah, that'd probably be a good thing to have more of, wouldn't it. At least he can manage a sheepish look.

"Ate a little bit earlier. Probably should go get something more substantial, though."

[theleast]

"Andrew."

The fondness in her huff is probably abundantly clear. Her attention drops almost instantly to her own bag, digging and turning up, disappointingly, only a candy bar--offered instantly and with insistence.

[faithfulclublet]

"I wasn't hungry."

Still isn't, particularly.

"'nd I can't take your food, 'gine."

[theleast]

"It's a candy bar. And I insist."

Only in part because it's an entirely good reason to reach out, briefly, and squeeze his elbow.

[faithfulclublet]

"All right, then."

If she insists. And also because of the encouragement her touch gives.

[theleast]

She can't stop the pleased smile. She doesn't begin to attempt to.

"And get some rest, Andrew-- please."

[faithfulclublet]

"I will, 'gine." A squeeze of her arm, "Promise."