Oh, c'mon — eugh. [Aloy's unease is gone in a second, replaced by disgust.] That's not what I said. Gross.
[She sighs in resignation, falling into a mostly-content silence. Zero's hands against her scalp always do the job of quieting her, and she enjoys it for a moment before responding.]
Maybe. [She agrees, and can't help but think of Beta. How different it would have been for the both of them, if they had been raised together with Rost? It's a melancholy thought. She doesn't want to mull over it for long — what Zero is saying is more important than hypotheticals anyway.]
... I know. [It's an acknowledgement of both things, and she can't help but feel a guilty twinge at the reminder of that year.] I don't want either of you to feel that way again. [She glances over her shoulder at Zero, trying to avoid getting soap in her eyes.]
I'll stay. I'll... [a heavy sigh] I'll trust GAIA and the others to do the work. There are more important places for me to be.
Zero feels guilt too about bringing it up. It was a sore spot, and she found no joy in causing Aloy more grief over it.
Both of them were still learning what it meant to no longer be alone. Because loneliness came with its own brand of selfishness. It was the only way to cope with it.
But Aloy's acquiescence makes a warm feeling bloom in her chest. One that she has never felt before, one that will take a few more years to put words to.
Zero leans into Aloy, embracing her from behind and pressing her face into her back. She always hid when she got emotional. ]
[Zero's warmth against her back is a relief. She relaxes in full at last, allowing her shoulders to slacken. She takes measure of her own feelings in the wake of it: joy, excitement. How oddly freeing it was: to do something for herself and her family, this part of her that was fully her own.]
Okay. We'll do it.
[...]
You know, you never told me what you would prefer. A boy, or a girl?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[She sighs in resignation, falling into a mostly-content silence. Zero's hands against her scalp always do the job of quieting her, and she enjoys it for a moment before responding.]
Maybe. [She agrees, and can't help but think of Beta. How different it would have been for the both of them, if they had been raised together with Rost? It's a melancholy thought. She doesn't want to mull over it for long — what Zero is saying is more important than hypotheticals anyway.]
... I know. [It's an acknowledgement of both things, and she can't help but feel a guilty twinge at the reminder of that year.] I don't want either of you to feel that way again. [She glances over her shoulder at Zero, trying to avoid getting soap in her eyes.]
I'll stay. I'll... [a heavy sigh] I'll trust GAIA and the others to do the work. There are more important places for me to be.
no subject
[ she mumbles sounding amused.
Zero feels guilt too about bringing it up. It was a sore spot, and she found no joy in causing Aloy more grief over it.
Both of them were still learning what it meant to no longer be alone. Because loneliness came with its own brand of selfishness. It was the only way to cope with it.
But Aloy's acquiescence makes a warm feeling bloom in her chest. One that she has never felt before, one that will take a few more years to put words to.
Zero leans into Aloy, embracing her from behind and pressing her face into her back. She always hid when she got emotional. ]
Okay. Let's do it.
no subject
Okay. We'll do it.
[...]
You know, you never told me what you would prefer. A boy, or a girl?
no subject
It's going to sound corny. But I don't really care - I just want it to be healthy. Hair like yours wouldn't be bad either.
no subject
[With some amusement, she adds:] As for another redhead... well, I guess we'll see soon enough.