The conversation almost made her laugh in a sense, it indeed was ludicrous how the two even got along- if that was the words for it. Truthfully, Lani couldn’t even figure it out herself when the two of them even came to be in the first place, whatever came to be meant anyway. Were they friends, or some mutation of it she hadn’t any idea. All she knew was that she cared about him in some round about way that she really couldn’t say- even though she’s said it and meant it even with the stress of the moment or constant upset. She feels his grip loosen, the circles increasing on her hand and she knows he calmed down just a bit to get his predictable apologies out of the way so she could feel bad for him- he always worries.
He was always so confusing, contradicting himself and then making things more confusing than it was- sometimes she wanted it to stop. “What are you talking about? You’re the one in my-” she couldn’t finish the sentence because he wasn’t talking about that. She paused completely, running the questions through her head for a moment- she’s clueless. “Why are you?”
It’d be too easy to head south on the I asked you first route, but he’s in no mood to start worthless banter. He needs his questions asked, to get this burden off of his chest –– he needs to know that enough of her is genuine. She puts him through hell, and half of it is solely his interpretation.
“Because I –– just am. I care. I don’t know. Are we friends, Lani? Just answer the question. The first one.” His eyes are wide, perplexed, flickering incessantly. He stares at her as if he’s supposed to find the answer in her deadpanned expression. “Just try not to be complicated for one second, Lani. Please.”
