[ he looks over her after a moment, eyes searching. people don't just ask him questions like that especially not someone he's known for less than a day. he doesn't know exactly what her angle is or what she wants from him with these questions but he's not going to just up and answer her without thinking. without questioning her. ]
You don't care about me. [< she doesn't know him. ] So why do you want to know what I want? What does it matter?
[ and why did he want to tell her despite the misgivings he was voicing? ]
[ does she care? not deeply, no. she doesn't know him well enough to care about him the way he means. but daisy's not the kind of person to not care at all; she's always formed attachments to people fairly quickly, bonded with them in some way that makes caring about them and wanting to care for them easier. she'd done it when she joined shield, she'd done it with robin and the caterpillars, and... she was doing it now, with him, piece by piece. ]
You don't want anyone to care about you. [ not an answer to his question, but not untrue either (she thinks). ] People don't care about monsters, right?
[ but she doesn't think he's a monster, and she's told him as much, so perhaps that's a clue. ]
I didn't ask to hear the sound of my own voice, you know.
[ he was fine without that. fine without anyone looking out for him or in on him or doing anything resembling caring. he doesn't need it or want it or even think about it. he's tried to shut that part of himself off.
better that way. easier that way. ]
You don't need to know what I want.
[ he wasn't going to make anything easy. ]
If you're so eager to talk about wants and desires, what do you want?
you don't care what i want, he'd said, and now here he was asking her what she wanted in return. she didn't have much reason to think he particularly cared either; in fact, daisy thought it was far more likely that he'd simply use any legitimate answer as fuel to throw back in her face, something to establish his superiority as an unemotional monster in the wake of a confession.
but giving the kind of smug, unaffected answer that might throw him off his game just isn't her style, and so daisy's response is sincere. or, at least, as sincere as possible, given the situation. ]
When I met Carmen, I was living out of a van on the outskirts of San Antonio. An actual roof over my head and three meals is a pretty solid upgrade. [ but... ] Or are you asking what I want from you?
[ but he's not that surprised by the answer. carmen did talk a good game when she wanted to and she did provide. he'd been here for years now and while there had been bumps in the road and obstacles to overcome, he'd been mostly cared for. he'd been safe and secure and give a purpose and a means to provide for himself.
that was more than he'd had before. ]
But since you brought it up... [ he trails off and gestures for her to continue. she'd been awfully friendly to him when he'd given her no reason to be. so, must be something she wanted out of this besides stimulating conversation. ]
[ it's a simple question, asked as simply as possible; her head tips to the side as she shifts to turn towards him, knees pulling up to her side. if he wants to sidestep all of her questions with convenient excuses and deflections, she might as well return the favor. ]
If you don't care, and you're not offering, I don't see why it matters.
[ her fingertips toy with the hem of the cardigan, considering it for a moment. ]
[ he stares forward for a long time, saying nothing, doing nothing. there are many ways he could take this conversation and he finds himself considering those options while he's quiet, while he can feel her watching him.
in the end, he shakes his head and shoves everything else aside, all the emotional wants of his mind and the physical needs of his body. he won't let himself go down that road again. he doesn't know her.
so, he pushes himself to his feet and retrieves the keys he'd tossed aside earlier. he holds them out in front of him. ]
It doesn't matter.
[ it did. he just doesn't want to admit that. ]
Take the keys and go home.
[ it's getting harder and harder to maintain his composure and distance the longer she's here. ]
[ she eyes him for a moment, gaze glancing back and forth between the expression on his face and the keys held outright between them. there's a firmness to it, the tight set of his jaw and the slight narrow of his eyes, that doesn't quite feel natural. ]
That's okay. [ she doesn't want to drive his car. or take his cardigan home, for that matter; it gets peeled off and dropped over his outstretched hand. in its wake, the neckline of daisy's dress shifts, betraying a patch of bare skin underneath. ] I'll call an Uber or something, you can keep your car.
[ if he doesn't want her here, she'll leave. she can find the front door just fine without much help. ]
[ it wasn't about what he wanted. it was about what was smart and this — it wasn't smart. no, what was smart was getting her out of here before he let his guard down anymore. before her words dug themselves deeper underneath his skin and he wasn't able to push them away before they took a permanent hold.
he takes the sweater back, folding it in his hands and looking up at her. ]
Whatever you want.
[ he'd leave the porch light on so she wouldn't have to wait in the dark. wasn't he just the nicest person? ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ he looks over her after a moment, eyes searching. people don't just ask him questions like that especially not someone he's known for less than a day. he doesn't know exactly what her angle is or what she wants from him with these questions but he's not going to just up and answer her without thinking. without questioning her. ]
You don't care about me. [< she doesn't know him. ] So why do you want to know what I want? What does it matter?
[ and why did he want to tell her despite the misgivings he was voicing? ]
no subject
You don't want anyone to care about you. [ not an answer to his question, but not untrue either (she thinks). ] People don't care about monsters, right?
[ but she doesn't think he's a monster, and she's told him as much, so perhaps that's a clue. ]
I didn't ask to hear the sound of my own voice, you know.
no subject
[ he was fine without that. fine without anyone looking out for him or in on him or doing anything resembling caring. he doesn't need it or want it or even think about it. he's tried to shut that part of himself off.
better that way. easier that way. ]
You don't need to know what I want.
[ he wasn't going to make anything easy. ]
If you're so eager to talk about wants and desires, what do you want?
no subject
you don't care what i want, he'd said, and now here he was asking her what she wanted in return. she didn't have much reason to think he particularly cared either; in fact, daisy thought it was far more likely that he'd simply use any legitimate answer as fuel to throw back in her face, something to establish his superiority as an unemotional monster in the wake of a confession.
but giving the kind of smug, unaffected answer that might throw him off his game just isn't her style, and so daisy's response is sincere. or, at least, as sincere as possible, given the situation. ]
When I met Carmen, I was living out of a van on the outskirts of San Antonio. An actual roof over my head and three meals is a pretty solid upgrade. [ but... ] Or are you asking what I want from you?
no subject
[ but he's not that surprised by the answer. carmen did talk a good game when she wanted to and she did provide. he'd been here for years now and while there had been bumps in the road and obstacles to overcome, he'd been mostly cared for. he'd been safe and secure and give a purpose and a means to provide for himself.
that was more than he'd had before. ]
But since you brought it up... [ he trails off and gestures for her to continue. she'd been awfully friendly to him when he'd given her no reason to be. so, must be something she wanted out of this besides stimulating conversation. ]
no subject
[ it's a simple question, asked as simply as possible; her head tips to the side as she shifts to turn towards him, knees pulling up to her side. if he wants to sidestep all of her questions with convenient excuses and deflections, she might as well return the favor. ]
If you don't care, and you're not offering, I don't see why it matters.
[ her fingertips toy with the hem of the cardigan, considering it for a moment. ]
no subject
in the end, he shakes his head and shoves everything else aside, all the emotional wants of his mind and the physical needs of his body. he won't let himself go down that road again. he doesn't know her.
so, he pushes himself to his feet and retrieves the keys he'd tossed aside earlier. he holds them out in front of him. ]
It doesn't matter.
[ it did. he just doesn't want to admit that. ]
Take the keys and go home.
[ it's getting harder and harder to maintain his composure and distance the longer she's here. ]
no subject
That's okay. [ she doesn't want to drive his car. or take his cardigan home, for that matter; it gets peeled off and dropped over his outstretched hand. in its wake, the neckline of daisy's dress shifts, betraying a patch of bare skin underneath. ] I'll call an Uber or something, you can keep your car.
[ if he doesn't want her here, she'll leave. she can find the front door just fine without much help. ]
no subject
he takes the sweater back, folding it in his hands and looking up at her. ]
Whatever you want.
[ he'd leave the porch light on so she wouldn't have to wait in the dark. wasn't he just the nicest person? ]
I'll see you around.