[illya's more than happy to give prompto and daisy room to converse. it's a small favor, but it clears up a lot of breathing room for when prompto takes a seat on the arm of one of the couches. arms cross, expression unreadable, he struggles to find the words at first.]
[he didn't want to bring any of this up during dinner, but it weighs on him heavy.]
I don't wanna be angry at you.
[...but he kinda is. and that's how he's going to start.]
[ she's been on couchrest since damian bridal carried her home. first out of exhaustion, then out of illya's own stubborn insistence, demanding that she take it easy for at least the rest of the day before getting up and acting like everything was fine. and, at first, that had been fine. she'd gotten a desperately needed nap in for a few hours, tooled around with some of the notes she and johnny had put together, watched stupid television — anything to take her mind off the conversations she'd had with markus and strange before dinner.
about how prompto hadn't been hurt at all, not really. about how she'd gone in guns blazing out of unnecessary devotion, how she'd done exactly what she'd fought with illya about doing on her behalf for someone else. how stupid and reckless she'd been.
approaching him, daisy realizes now, was a bit much. but she doesn't begrudge herself trying to end the fight once it had gotten out of hand, and she knows if she hadn't knocked kovacs out, she would have ended up much worse off. maybe no one else realizes that his ability could be lethal, but she'd recognized the sensation too quickly to be anything but overly cautious.
but that doesn't mean she's going to grovel for forgiveness, either. ]
Then don't be.
[ it's not said to be harsh, but she's tired. physically exhausted, if not visibly injured. it's been a day. ]
[and prompto's not here to demand for an apology. what done is done, and he's quick to forgive and forget. but he has to make it clear that these kind of things aren't okay—that they scare the shit out of him, because it shouldn't be the people he cares about getting hurt.]
[his hand tightens into a fist where it lies on his lap, and prompto keeps steady.]
[ the thing is, daisy doesn't regret her choice. she recognizes it was foolish, but protecting people she cares about will never be something she regrets or overthinks.
to his question, one shoulder lifts and falls, a silent shrug as her arms wrap around her knees, chin dropping to rest there. ]
Why do you think? [ her brows arch up just slightly before settling again. ] It's not like I went there intending to knock him out.
[ that's her story, anyway. daisy's conveniently forgotten that her initial response to illya upon learning who hurt her friend was "i'm gonna kick his ass", though. she definitely went in looking for a fight. ]
[he doesn't think, for he knows why exactly. markus told him as much—but markus also told him based on what other people had told him; it was the worst game of telephone ever and prompto hated being towards the end of the line.]
Fine.
[his shoulders straighten and he looks up, breathing in before letting the words out, his hands raising and then slapping back palms down onto his thighs.]
I got into a fight with Kovacs in New Tokyo. He pushed me, but I could have let it go and just walked away, but I decided to tackle a guy about a foot taller than me. He elbowed me in the face and had me scared shitless for a whole minute, but you know what? I knocked him off his feet and thankfully the fight ended shortly afterwards cuz I was way too dizzy at that point. [it was the elbow to his face] He took a picture for me, sent it to me, and we fist bumped before going on our way. Really weird interaction if you ask me, but we didn't part in bad terms.
[prompto had burgers and beers with him a few days back]
I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but he wasn't the one who started the fight that got me a black eye and a fat lip.
[he's healed, mostly, but there's still telltale signs of those injuries]
I can pick my own fights and stand my ground. I'm not a kid.
[ she listens to him talk because she's not rude. she knows how to have a conversation without interrupting, and besides, she does actually care about what he has to say. the problem is, what he says is mildly frustrating — not because of what he'd done, but because of the way it changes everything else.
daisy sighs, a hand lifting to press at the bridge of her nose. ]
Illya made it sound like you got your ass kicked. Like Kovacs was this loose cannon and you were just his first target. [ and she cared too much about prompto to let anybody else get hurt. ] And, I mean, it wasn't exactly that hard to believe. The guy was a complete asshole when I dragged him back to the safehouse, and I was helping him.
[ but it doesn't matter, because prompto's fine. a little banged up, but fine. ]
I'm not trying to fight your battles for you. I went there to talk to him — [ don't look at her like that ] — and it just. Got out of hand.
[ she shrugs. ]
I would have been satisfied with just punching him in the face if he hadn't used his ability on me, though. He deserved to get knocked out for pulling that shit.
[he does look at her like that when she knows she's bound to get judged for an action that turned into something else entirely—or maybe the fact that it's somewhat hard to believe that talk was all she went there to do.]
[not saying anything, he gets on the couch to sit beside her and — his expression softens. he was angry, is disappointed, because he cares too much for daisy to just be okay with her deciding to go and do something reckless for his sake, or because he somehow triggered those events into unfolding.]
Daisy, I'm...
You mean a lot to me. You know that. If you forget, I'm going to remind you every time. [because he's tired of walking on eggshells around friends he never got to be fully honest with, who are now gone.] I got so scared when I heard you got into a pretty bad situation.
Even if it wasn't just because of me or for me at all, I'll still feel like it's somehow my fault.
[he grins lightly] Kovacs a right piece of work though, huh? Has no sense of moderation when it comes to fighting or picking fights.
It's not your fault. [ it's her fault. maybe a little bit illya's fault, for telling her and listening to her tell him in no uncertain terms what she was going to do and not stopping her. maybe a little bit kovacs' fault for egging her on. but it's not prompto's fault, and she won't let him shoulder any of that guilt. ] Okay, it's not.
[ swanning right past whether or not kovacs is a dick (because he is) ... ]
And I'm not mad at you. So unless you're mad at me — [ a pause, her expression softening just the slightest bit, the ever-present fear of rejection that she's gotten so good at working past rearing up just enough to be noticeable by someone who carries it too... ] — then we're okay.
[that's all prompto needs to hear before his worries over their situation dissipate. all he wants are for his friends to be safe, and for none of them to be in pain. in a world where he's been cut off from the bonds he has with his best friend, with his brothers—he doesn't want to lose anything else, selfish as it may be.]
We're okay.
[he's thankfully wearing a sweater, for he's carefully reaching over to pull daisy into a hug. she's hurt—he knows—so he's being soft and gentle about it.]
[but he's quick to give her her space back, too, but his body language is much more open now, more willing to let her in than the initial moments of befuddled frustrations and nervous circling around the situation at hand.]
I know you got Illya to do your bidding, but if you need anything, let me know. I'll grab you the last serving of shaved ice with whipped cream and strawberries from the Mida shop without hesitating.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
AK post-dinner
[he didn't want to bring any of this up during dinner, but it weighs on him heavy.]
I don't wanna be angry at you.
[...but he kinda is. and that's how he's going to start.]
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about how prompto hadn't been hurt at all, not really. about how she'd gone in guns blazing out of unnecessary devotion, how she'd done exactly what she'd fought with illya about doing on her behalf for someone else. how stupid and reckless she'd been.
approaching him, daisy realizes now, was a bit much. but she doesn't begrudge herself trying to end the fight once it had gotten out of hand, and she knows if she hadn't knocked kovacs out, she would have ended up much worse off. maybe no one else realizes that his ability could be lethal, but she'd recognized the sensation too quickly to be anything but overly cautious.
but that doesn't mean she's going to grovel for forgiveness, either. ]
Then don't be.
[ it's not said to be harsh, but she's tired. physically exhausted, if not visibly injured. it's been a day. ]
no subject
[and prompto's not here to demand for an apology. what done is done, and he's quick to forgive and forget. but he has to make it clear that these kind of things aren't okay—that they scare the shit out of him, because it shouldn't be the people he cares about getting hurt.]
[his hand tightens into a fist where it lies on his lap, and prompto keeps steady.]
Why did you seek Kovacs out?
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to his question, one shoulder lifts and falls, a silent shrug as her arms wrap around her knees, chin dropping to rest there. ]
Why do you think? [ her brows arch up just slightly before settling again. ] It's not like I went there intending to knock him out.
[ that's her story, anyway. daisy's conveniently forgotten that her initial response to illya upon learning who hurt her friend was "i'm gonna kick his ass", though. she definitely went in looking for a fight. ]
no subject
Fine.
[his shoulders straighten and he looks up, breathing in before letting the words out, his hands raising and then slapping back palms down onto his thighs.]
I got into a fight with Kovacs in New Tokyo. He pushed me, but I could have let it go and just walked away, but I decided to tackle a guy about a foot taller than me. He elbowed me in the face and had me scared shitless for a whole minute, but you know what? I knocked him off his feet and thankfully the fight ended shortly afterwards cuz I was way too dizzy at that point. [it was the elbow to his face] He took a picture for me, sent it to me, and we fist bumped before going on our way. Really weird interaction if you ask me, but we didn't part in bad terms.
[prompto had burgers and beers with him a few days back]
I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but he wasn't the one who started the fight that got me a black eye and a fat lip.
[he's healed, mostly, but there's still telltale signs of those injuries]
I can pick my own fights and stand my ground. I'm not a kid.
no subject
daisy sighs, a hand lifting to press at the bridge of her nose. ]
Illya made it sound like you got your ass kicked. Like Kovacs was this loose cannon and you were just his first target. [ and she cared too much about prompto to let anybody else get hurt. ] And, I mean, it wasn't exactly that hard to believe. The guy was a complete asshole when I dragged him back to the safehouse, and I was helping him.
[ but it doesn't matter, because prompto's fine. a little banged up, but fine. ]
I'm not trying to fight your battles for you. I went there to talk to him — [ don't look at her like that ] — and it just. Got out of hand.
[ she shrugs. ]
I would have been satisfied with just punching him in the face if he hadn't used his ability on me, though. He deserved to get knocked out for pulling that shit.
no subject
[not saying anything, he gets on the couch to sit beside her and — his expression softens. he was angry, is disappointed, because he cares too much for daisy to just be okay with her deciding to go and do something reckless for his sake, or because he somehow triggered those events into unfolding.]
Daisy, I'm...
You mean a lot to me. You know that. If you forget, I'm going to remind you every time. [because he's tired of walking on eggshells around friends he never got to be fully honest with, who are now gone.] I got so scared when I heard you got into a pretty bad situation.
Even if it wasn't just because of me or for me at all, I'll still feel like it's somehow my fault.
[he grins lightly] Kovacs a right piece of work though, huh? Has no sense of moderation when it comes to fighting or picking fights.
[...]
—I want us to be okay.
no subject
[ swanning right past whether or not kovacs is a dick (because he is) ... ]
And I'm not mad at you. So unless you're mad at me — [ a pause, her expression softening just the slightest bit, the ever-present fear of rejection that she's gotten so good at working past rearing up just enough to be noticeable by someone who carries it too... ] — then we're okay.
[ that's all there is to it. ]
So. Are we okay?
no subject
We're okay.
[he's thankfully wearing a sweater, for he's carefully reaching over to pull daisy into a hug. she's hurt—he knows—so he's being soft and gentle about it.]
[but he's quick to give her her space back, too, but his body language is much more open now, more willing to let her in than the initial moments of befuddled frustrations and nervous circling around the situation at hand.]
I know you got Illya to do your bidding, but if you need anything, let me know. I'll grab you the last serving of shaved ice with whipped cream and strawberries from the Mida shop without hesitating.