thisavrou_ooc | Heart Meme ❤

Hearts ♥ Meme

How to play:

1. Post a comment below with each of your characters.
2. Reply with your characters to others' comments with the appropriate hearts.
3. Note the hovertext fields in the heart codes. Change it if you want.
4. Remember this is ICly.

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"I would kill you."

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"I would harm or use/manipulate you."

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"I find you annoying."

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"I am afraid of you."

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"I would like to get to know you better."

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"I would spend time/have fun/be friends with you."

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"I would rescue you/fight by your side."

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"I would hug you or hold your hand."

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"I would kiss you."

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"I would date you."

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"I would have sex with you."

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"I would fall in love with you."

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"I would call you family."

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"I think we are similar somehow."

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"You are mistaken about me in some way."

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"No opinion."

Code taken from

saveyourbrain

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You should know I'm not very sweet unless it's convenient for me. I've been fine so far without anyone looking after me.

[No, she has not been fine, as evidenced by the fact that the fingers of her left arm tense.]

Mostly. [She's just going to get right into his personal space, because she's kind of annoyed.] I don't need a hero, Adam. If you want to help me, then help me. Besides, it never ends well for the hero, I don't need more people dying on my account.

[Well that hits a bit closer to home than either of them were probably expecting it to. Almost can't help a cheeky retort – that dying for other people's sake seems to be his raison d'être – but bites it back before he lets it slip. What was that about wanting to know more about him? Pot, meet kettle?]

"Mostly."

[Echoed skeptically, with an equally skeptical raise of his brow. Only for a brief moment – soon, he's all trademark Jensen seriousness once more. Inscrutable behind those shades of his, impassive as ever (even with her all up in his business like this.) His voice, quiet.]

Tell me what you need.

[If she says "for you to get out of my face forever..."]

[Her face reads cool and impassive, oddly calculating and devoid.

To be left alone. To disappear. To stop caring. For this damned arm to stop acting up. To stop having nightmares. To forget. To scream. To ---

Too much races through her mind even faster than she can sort through it.]

I don't know.

[She catches only too late how small and deflated her voice sounds. So she hardens, as best as she can, in a typical standoffish fashion.]

No one's ever asked me that.

[She knows how hard it is to be alone, to be so fiercely independent, entirely by choice. She claims to not care, yet didn't she work alone so she wouldn't have others be dragged into her life and its consequences? Didn't she keep everyone at arm's length just to not have liabilities and weaknesses for herself?

In the end, all she'd become was brittle. A woman with nothing to show for herself except a missing arm and a string of dead men and women trailing an old life she was forced to leave behind.]

[He recognizes that look – it's one he's very well acquainted with. Both him and his face. Adam breathes a low sigh.]

Well... This is a good place to start, I guess.

[With that, he slowly places a gunmetal-black hand on her shoulder and gently, but insistently, pushes her a few inches back before letting his fingers slip away back to his sides. This isn't the fight it easily could have become – no need to be up in each other's faces like this. Personal space reestablished, he takes a couple of seconds to think, brow furrowed, on what exactly he wants to say.

What he finally comes up with at length is, by Jensen standards, a bit of a rare speech. Voice quiet and carefully-controlled as is usual– but all with the faint suggestion of something more bubbling below the surface.]

For the longest time, I thought that I was the only person I could rely on. [A snort – even he knows that's putting it lightly.] To be honest – even after all I've seen and been through – I'm not sure anything's given me much of a reason to believe otherwise. Not yet, anyway.

All I know for certain is that there're some battles that can't be fought alone. You need people you can trust to back you up when it counts the most. [He gestures with one hand in the other, as if to illustrate his point.] And like so much else, trust's a commodity: you've got to spend it to earn it.

[For that, he can spare a wry almost-smile.] Figured you might understand it in those terms.

[She backs off half a step further, crossing her arms, throwing her head up just so. It's taking an incredible amount of willpower to not bite back with a hundred years' worth of paranoia and distrust. Logically, she knows he's right.

But experience, even recent events, have her reeling. Considering how terse and short Adam usually is? She's gathering this is more serious than he's even letting on.

She could fight back. Get back in his space and tell him he's all kinds of wrong, starting with a man she once knew and trusted nearly killing her and ending with that, too.

Exhaustion wins out. This isn't a fight neither could win. Messy is how it would end, she could see that far without even trying. So she smirks, instead, fixing her gaze on him properly, shoulders sloped and (forcibly) relaxed.]

I think we might've just had our first actual fight.

[Isha circles him slowly. There she is again, the ever-too-cool, disaffected thief.

When she speaks again, her voice is a quieter than usual.]

You have no idea what you're getting yourself into.

[She lightly shoulder checks him, continuing with her aimless walk to nowhere.]

Next time I won't be so gracious.

[Her voice returns to its usual arrogant undertone and normal volume. But is that an agreement? Who knows!]

Heart Meme ❤

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