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[She nods, in absence of anything else to say.]
Yeah.
[Why can't she just believe what Yasha says here? Why can't she find any value in her own damn self? And why, despite all of this, is she just happy that Yasha is still here with her?]
'Mm glad you're here. Just, in-- in general. I'm glad you keep coming back.
[Beau isn't the kind of person to cry-- at least, she tries not to be. But she makes sure they're linked here, scooting forward and finally just lying her forhead on Yasha's shoulder.]
Can we just sit here for a bit? I'm so fuckin' tired.
Yeah.
[Why can't she just believe what Yasha says here? Why can't she find any value in her own damn self? And why, despite all of this, is she just happy that Yasha is still here with her?]
'Mm glad you're here. Just, in-- in general. I'm glad you keep coming back.
[Beau isn't the kind of person to cry-- at least, she tries not to be. But she makes sure they're linked here, scooting forward and finally just lying her forhead on Yasha's shoulder.]
Can we just sit here for a bit? I'm so fuckin' tired.
[She can feel the other woman's eyes on her, sending lightning-bolt thrills through their hands and up her spine. Beau isn't even processing what she's looking at anymore, the view out the window melting together into a haze of green she doesn't care much about at all. It still takes time for her to have the courage to look back, the little grin on her face coming with it.]
Yeah. Me too.
[As long as she doesn't have a heart attack between now and when they get out from the lack of knowing What This Is and her abject refusal to truly review it at all.]
Yeah. Me too.
[As long as she doesn't have a heart attack between now and when they get out from the lack of knowing What This Is and her abject refusal to truly review it at all.]
Oh. Good.
(That's good, that Beau feels that way. It's good how her saying that makes Yasha feel too, if she's allowed to be selfish for a moment and enjoy a small part of this conversation. Especially when Beau scoots closer, and drops her forehead onto her shoulder, solid and warm. Yasha's breath catches.)
... Of course.
(She goes through the motion of raising an arm twice before she finally commits to it, resting her palm lightly against Beau's back and rubbing slowly, in a little circle. She'll sit here forever if it means that Beau will find a tiny bit of peace through the places they're both touching.)
(That's good, that Beau feels that way. It's good how her saying that makes Yasha feel too, if she's allowed to be selfish for a moment and enjoy a small part of this conversation. Especially when Beau scoots closer, and drops her forehead onto her shoulder, solid and warm. Yasha's breath catches.)
... Of course.
(She goes through the motion of raising an arm twice before she finally commits to it, resting her palm lightly against Beau's back and rubbing slowly, in a little circle. She'll sit here forever if it means that Beau will find a tiny bit of peace through the places they're both touching.)
[If Beau opens her eyes, really takes the time to think about the feelings she's having right now, she'd probably barf up her own heart in t minus no seconds. Therefore, she's decided to simply Not Do This, by keeping her eyes closed, face pressed into Yasha's shoulder and just thinking about breathing in and out. Emotions? Don't know her.
Beau just responds with a grunt, and then decides to stop dealing with any of it, letting herself rest and be quiet. That, in itself, is enough.]
Beau just responds with a grunt, and then decides to stop dealing with any of it, letting herself rest and be quiet. That, in itself, is enough.]
Molly doesn't want to come back.
(Hi hello, Yasha's blown in like a whirlwind, a tempest in her eyes and in the furrow of her brow. This isn't a completely fair representation of the conversation she's had with Molly but she can't find the words for his trembling hand at her cheek, or the slow blink of his wet eyelashes. Nor does she want to. But she needs Beau's help on this right now, because otherwise she thinks she's going to break something with her hands just to help with how useless she feels.)
Beau, he won't– listen to me, he won't fight it with me. I don't understand why.
(Hi hello, Yasha's blown in like a whirlwind, a tempest in her eyes and in the furrow of her brow. This isn't a completely fair representation of the conversation she's had with Molly but she can't find the words for his trembling hand at her cheek, or the slow blink of his wet eyelashes. Nor does she want to. But she needs Beau's help on this right now, because otherwise she thinks she's going to break something with her hands just to help with how useless she feels.)
Beau, he won't– listen to me, he won't fight it with me. I don't understand why.
[Beau almost immediately scowls, putting down the book she has in her hands immediately and cracking her knuckles.]
Is he being fucking stupid about it again? I told his dumb ass a million times, he's coming the fuck home and he's gonna be fine. He's fine here. What's so hard to get about that?
Is he being fucking stupid about it again? I told his dumb ass a million times, he's coming the fuck home and he's gonna be fine. He's fine here. What's so hard to get about that?
Again?
(Yasha pauses in her unhappy pacing to stare Beau down, hands clenched.) Did... he already talk to you about this?
(Her and Molly haven't been talking about it. Yasha supposes it would even be fair to say that they'd been actively avoiding the subject but... even so.)
(Yasha pauses in her unhappy pacing to stare Beau down, hands clenched.) Did... he already talk to you about this?
(Her and Molly haven't been talking about it. Yasha supposes it would even be fair to say that they'd been actively avoiding the subject but... even so.)
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