notafuckingnut | [035] I turned to look but it was gone I cannot put my finger on it now

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[035] I turned to look but it was gone I cannot put my finger on it now

I hate this.

Just fucking stop, okay? Last time was fucking fine; I mean...it was a trip and a half but it was just a bunch of weird assholes. A genie without a lamp and a pink horse; that's...that's cartoons. That's fine. Just make up your fucking mind already, okay?

~~Did anybody else talk to him?~~

There were some other cool people this time around though.

[...girls. He liked them, at least.]

[PRIVATE to Castiel]

I want a TV. I'll do an extra shift in the greenhouse or whatever, I just need one. It doesn't need a bunch of extra channels, basic cable's fine.

[PRIVATE to Lua]

Did you see him?

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But...you didn't have to pretend. You could've just...

If you didn't want to, why'd you let me in? Why'd you do...any of it? I mean, I thought...

You didn't have to stab me.

[She looks at him now, wavering between a glare and something guilty.]

Richie. I had told you no before. Numerous times. I said I just wanted to be friends, but you kept twisting my words. The first day we met you thought I was going in the shower with you. I never said that. I was trying to be nice and show you around. I tried saying no, I tried being friends.

I didn't twist anything though. I didn't.

Things aren't always the way I think they are, that's all. I guess. It's not my fault I heard different.

And anyway. If you really had a problem why keep getting involved? We wouldn't have had a problem at all if you stopped talking to me.

[because apparently there's absolutely nothing wrong with blaming her too; mess only take away the hallucinations and delusions, not the ignorant ideology and pathetic excuses.]

Because I figured you'd make a better friend than an enemy. You sent off five million red flags, I didn't trust you. I thought if I kept playing nice and tried to be your friend that in the end it would be better than telling you to stay away, which you know damn well you wouldn't have anyway, and that you'd keep your evil at bay.

[Shrugs.]

Obviously, I was wrong.

...I'm not evil.

[She scratches at her temple, snorting.]

Right, you're just an Inmate for the fun of it.

[She wants to leave. She's done. Instead, she collapses onto the nearest sofa, burying her face in her hands.]

Just because I've done some bad things it doesn't make me evil.

I didn't want to hurt you. I didn't want to hurt any of 'em.

[more uncomfortable shifting. He's sorry? And if he knew how to make her not hate him he'd do something. But he doesn't.]

[Deep breaths. Deep breaths. She draws in four or five, she's lost count, still hiding behind her hands. When they fall back to her lap, her cheeks are finally wet, though she makes no crying noises. Robotic-like, Claire stands and walks towards the door. She pauses by him, shoulder to shoulder, but her eyes remain forwards. She flounders, but manages to get out, monotoned:]

I...

I forgive you.

[And she walks out.]

[...well then. He's pretty much completely stunned by that, so he just kind if stares after her, baffled.]

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