Farisia Rising

Heidre

Reggie was having another staring contest with Max when the knock came.

This time, he was expecting it.

"Yeah," was all he said.

Eva bumped open the door and worked her way in.

"Please tell me you didn't get in too much trouble for that," she seemed genuinely worried. There was no passive-aggressive insulting or cutting up.

She saw him sitting on his cot, his unconcerned expression, his unconcerned posture, and she sighed with relief. "I'll take that as a no."

"You get to leave tomorrow," he replied.

"What?"

"We had an agreement."

"You threatened them?"

"That's the definition of agreement."

"No it's not."

"That's my definition."

"How do you know they won't just kill me?" a shadow of fear crossed her face. "I'm guessing they're not too happy about it. And you won't be around to see."

"Yes I will. I'm walking you back to the vagrant camp. If I'm not back by noon, it's curtains for both of us, though. So we'd better be fast."

"I....thank you," she was knocked near-speechless. Then a thought occurred. A horrible, intrusive thought. "You're still eligible for the surgery, right?"

"Yep," he flicked his eyes back over to Max. "I'm so amazing they don't wanna drop me."

There was silence for about three minutes. Eva hung by the wall, unable to speak. Quite possibly she was afraid to. So many emotions were mobbing her at once, there was a good chance she would burst into tears.

"You're not insulting me today," he mused, cutting her thoughts short. "It's weird."

"I can insult you, if you want," she tightened her self-embrace. "Though my heart won't be in it. Not anymore. I...I can't believe you did that for me."

He was distracted, glaring at Max. "I need a nickname."

"Yes, because remembering fifty aliases isn't hard enough," she mustered her spunk, if only half-mindedly. "Max is the nickname for Maxwell."

"Maybe I need a nickname for Max."

"Okay, Maxi-Pad," before she could even deliberate, she'd said it.

A strange smile grappled with his lips, until finally he let it win.

She giggled. "It wasn't even funny."

"No, it wasn't." He stood up to let her have the cot, as per their agreement. And she slowly drew in, reluctant to situate herself.

He couldn't help but notice she still seemed worried. "You good?"

"I'm just a little spooked, that's all," she dismissed. "I can't even tell anymore, if the danger is real or if I'm just, yanno, traumatized, paranoid... Nothing's been the same since the pressure attack. I feel like I'm losing my mind. And then I see myself, standing here with you, and all I see is proof. I mean—no offense, I...that sounded way worse than I meant it..."

"I could lay in front of you, like a barrier," he offered. "I'm a light sleeper, and I only sleep like three hours a night anyway. So if anyone reaches over me, I'm awake."

She mulled it over for maybe a minute, before at last agreeing.

She let him ease in next to her. He turned onto his side, facing away, so she wouldn't be uncomfortable.