[ dust that makes Yor have to take a step back and cover her mouth to sneeze, probably making that thread tugging even worse because she can't control herself with that instinctive recoil. ]
[ she doesn't try to catch the falling glasses, already worried her actions were the cause of their fall. but Juzo got the brunt of it, so she's stepping forward and searching to see if any glass broke on him and if their connected string is going to make things worse. ]
I'm sorry! Are you...
[ why can't she find the same color thread on his arm? did she tangle everything that badly just by sneezing? ]
[ Nothing broke on him, thankfully. Not-so-thankfully, there's plenty of broken glass lying around their feet. He tries to move as she looks him over, the thread between them pulling tight again. It's definitely not the same color all the way through. ]
[ she's torn between wanting to pick up the shattered glass everywhere and making sure their connected thread doesn't make it more difficult to help clean. ]
I think there's something wrong with your thread. Can the colors rub off on each other, or get too tangled to pull apart?
[ Oh. Oh no. This is what he was hoping to avoid. He supposes it would be easy to take her misunderstanding and run with it, but he would rather not lie to her. About this, or anything, really. ]
No. Pretty sure my thread is exactly how it's supposed to be.
Yor... [ A sigh. He steps back away from the shelves, lowering his hands. Glass crunches under his foot, and he cannot help but feel that it's a precursor for how this conversation is about to go. ]
I didn't wanna bring it up at all. You're married, and I respect that. I'm not here to get in the way of anything, but... it's exactly what it looks like.
βit was your closet. You said that Stoat pulled some things loose and...i-it must've pulled out too much and that's why. Maybe we can put it back, just a little! Or I can replace whatever chocolate that was there. I won't make it myself, I can ask Mr. Kusumit or Mr. Leo for help...
But it isn't happening! We must've accidentally knocked something wrong. You're--you've gone on dates with Mr. Sholmes or Miss Adler. I can't fight Mr. Sholmes!
[ physically, yes, easily. but emotionally it would be devastating. ]
Infringing on someone else's relationship can lead to fights o-or contract hits! Even mere suspicions can have people reported to the secret police!
[ honestly, the only times her targets are almost relieved to see her is when they realize they're going to be executed because their infidelity to their country, not their wives finding out about any mistresses. ]
[ And here he thought things were wild where he came from. ]
That's not... those aren't the rules everywhere. Especially not here. Didn't you see Stoat's stupid love chart? There were people who had like a dozen lines comin' off of 'em!
[ she ducks her head at the outburst, wishing she knew how to explain better why he's mistaken. maybe it wasn't an accident when going through his heart, but it has to be some mistake she can fix, because otherwise... ]
...but they're my rules. It's what's normal for my world, it's what's normal for Loid. An Ostanian woman is a caring mother and a faithful wife. She doesn't...nobody worries about extra lines or string because she's beyond reproach.
[ because otherwise whatever she did or felt was wrong. ]
[ A little too late, he realizes how that sounded, like he was trying to change her mind. ]
I understand.
... There are no extra lines, and there doesn't have to be. A crush can stay a crush. I'm not trying to take you away from your husband. That's the last thing in the world I want. If not for the damn strings, I wouldn't have ever brought it up.
[ she turns her head away more, staring down at the broken glass or countertop or anywhere else. she can't quite shake her head as a gesture to tell him that no, he doesn't. he doesn't understand it at all. because she doesn't really understand herself either, except for the feeling that she is a miserable failure to have not earned a gold thread.
and whatever that feeling is seeps into the end of her thread now, tarnishing the soft gold with small, faint smears of purple the color of bruises. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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As for the shelves-- ]
You got it, or you want me to check 'em?
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Could you please? If they're in the back corners, I'd have to climb to reach...
[ she remembers feet on food serving items, even if it is catching them from falling, is not a normal behavior ]
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[ He moves behind the counter to behind rummaging around the higher shelves. That does tug on their string again whoops. ]
I'm not seein' much except for dust bunnies.
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Ah--sorry!
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[ Yeah that. Makes his hand jerk kind of suddenly, and there go a bunch of glasses right off the shelf. ]
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I'm sorry! Are you...
[ why can't she find the same color thread on his arm? did she tangle everything that badly just by sneezing? ]
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I'm fine, I-- Yor? You okay?
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I think there's something wrong with your thread. Can the colors rub off on each other, or get too tangled to pull apart?
[ but it's not blood stained, so that's good?? ]
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[ Oh. Oh no. This is what he was hoping to avoid. He supposes it would be easy to take her misunderstanding and run with it, but he would rather not lie to her. About this, or anything, really. ]
No. Pretty sure my thread is exactly how it's supposed to be.
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...but you said pink is a precursor to red and that's...
[ nnnnnnnnnnot right ]
That means there's other reasons then? Like Mr. Harlock said about destiny, it could mean like keeping an appointment...
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I didn't wanna bring it up at all. You're married, and I respect that. I'm not here to get in the way of anything, but... it's exactly what it looks like.
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[ and it is a totally real marriage to a real person! with a real marriage licence! ]
You know I'm married! I didn't--I didn't do anything!
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[ How does he even explain this? How does he let her know that it's okay? It has to be okay. ]
I feel how I feel but I'm not gonna do anything about it. It's fine. Just... forget you saw anything, okay?
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βit was your closet. You said that Stoat pulled some things loose and...i-it must've pulled out too much and that's why. Maybe we can put it back, just a little! Or I can replace whatever chocolate that was there. I won't make it myself, I can ask Mr. Kusumit or Mr. Leo for help...
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[ Give him a second, some of that stuff comes back to him clearer than others. It's when she starts talking about the closet that it clicks. ]
Yor... the notes were me tryin' to convince myself it wasn't happening. You know, because you're married. It still... happened.
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[ physically, yes, easily. but emotionally it would be devastating. ]
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[ honestly, the only times her targets are almost relieved to see her is when they realize they're going to be executed because their infidelity to their country, not their wives finding out about any mistresses. ]
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That's not... those aren't the rules everywhere. Especially not here. Didn't you see Stoat's stupid love chart? There were people who had like a dozen lines comin' off of 'em!
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...but they're my rules. It's what's normal for my world, it's what's normal for Loid. An Ostanian woman is a caring mother and a faithful wife. She doesn't...nobody worries about extra lines or string because she's beyond reproach.
[ because otherwise whatever she did or felt was wrong. ]
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I understand.
... There are no extra lines, and there doesn't have to be. A crush can stay a crush. I'm not trying to take you away from your husband. That's the last thing in the world I want. If not for the damn strings, I wouldn't have ever brought it up.
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[ she turns her head away more, staring down at the broken glass or countertop or anywhere else. she can't quite shake her head as a gesture to tell him that no, he doesn't. he doesn't understand it at all. because she doesn't really understand herself either, except for the feeling that she is a miserable failure to have not earned a gold thread.
and whatever that feeling is seeps into the end of her thread now, tarnishing the soft gold with small, faint smears of purple the color of bruises. ]
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