(no subject)

[feytality]

Thread continuations ✔
Overflow ✔
Spiritual shenanigans ✔
Open post for anyone ✔

(This post can be used for game continuations or one-on-one meetings! It can also be used as a general 'call me out' post for Maya. Please specify in the title if it's an ingame thread or not, and if not, which canon point/RP version you'd like! Feel free to write a scenario for the latter, or let me know what kind of thread you're looking for and I'll set up a scenario for you)

Comments

[feytality]

[She's starting to pick up on his little muted gesture, little by little, and him being embarrassed by the flowers was probably the first thing she noticed. He reacts when she brings it up again too, so it's still a sore subject, apparently.]

[If Maya were the type to vocalize those feelings out loud on her own, they'd be having a different conversation. But alas, she's more likely to make a joke out of her own fears and pains or hide them entirely and put on a smile for the sake of the people around her. She's starting to count Giovanni as one of those people -- someone she wants to be strong for, to try to coax him out of his shell a little more.]

[Still, while she was teasing, she's pretty surprised by the answer she hears. At best, she'd considered herself to be a minor annoyance in his eyes, but apparently she did leave some kind of mark. Her eyes widen initially, at the admission --- she's clearly shocked by the answer, and she stares openly at him for a second or two. Her natural instinct, following, is to laugh or make some kind of joke to bypass the emotion, and she uses all of her self-restraint to hold back, because she gets the feeling he wouldn't take it well if she laughed at him, even if it's good-natured]

Weeeellll.......

Lucky for you, I'm sticking around, huh?

[It looks like she did make up her mind after all.] You won't get rid of me that easily, Giovanni.

[She dropped the "mister"....]

[ofobedience]

[A small and unknown commonality between them then (at least, unknown to him), the propensity to hide truer, deeper emotions behind a carefully constructed facade that one, in the end, comes to expect and believes to be a true part of one's personality. His facade may be quite different, all cold smiles and impassivity, but it's a facade nonetheless, just one he's been wearing for so long that he no longer knows just where it ends and where he really begins.

No matter. He waits out her moment of wide-eyed silence, a further dose of self-consciousness already beginning to sink in before she breaks the growing stillness with her words. No mister this time, no, and he does notice it. Prefers it.

He smiles, small and sharp yes, but perhaps there's something visibly genuine lurking around its hard edges.]

What luck, indeed.

[His tone is a little wry, yes, but the truth is there's more than a small measure of relief in him on hearing her admission.]