Truth Be Told | ✓

| o r i |

❝Be yourself, don't take anything from anyone, and never let them take you alive.❞ - Gerard Way

| o r i |

SHE WAS doing it again, Ori noticed. The tone of relaxation Arianna had seemed to assume for a moment had given way again to the shady stiffness that seemed to imply she was uncomfortable, which made him feel uncomfortable. 

It was strange to have a girl sitting five inches away from you with such rigidity in her back, her arms held stiffly at her sides as though she were anticipating some sort of attack. Ori sank moodily back into his own seat, his gaze settling again on his ever-present ally--the blue emptiness just outside the window. On any other flight, he might have considered trying to sleep. But Arianna, with her rigid position and unblinking eyes fixed directly on the screen in front of her, was unfortunately making that ridiculously impossible. Something about her posture and her air just bestowed a deep discomfort on the entire aura of the row, and he found himself wishing she would just loosen up.

"Loosening up," after all, seemed at least second nature to the girl, judging from how obliviously she would lapse into a cheerful, easygoing mood at intervals in the conversation before quickly stiffening up again.

Was it because of something he had done, he wondered.

Maybe this was just how all Hollywood people were. But if that was so, then why did it seem as though this girl had two distinct personalities and was constantly shifting back and forth between them?

She's an actress, his mind told him. After all, it must be habitual for actors to morph into a variety of characters over the course of their career. If that was the case, and most likely it was, then of course it was perfectly natural for Arianna to act several different personalities over the course of the same conversation... wasn't it?

He found himself questioning his own logic and quickly turned back his memory to the flight where he had sat beside the woman who might have been Angelina Jolie, trying to remember her behavior. But then, all he remembered was a quiet brunette woman in a maroon sweater and black low-cut boots. She hadn't said a word, and maybe that was intentional. Most traveling actors likely try to stay anonymous when they can in order not to draw prying crowds. 

There was something just unnatural about Arianna, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

She wasn't looking at him; her arms were crossed stiffly in her lap, one leg tucked in an uncomfortable right angle over the other while her white hands turned over themselves in her lap. Her long, dark brown hair fell over the side of her face, shielding it from his view. After several tense seconds of staring, he finally detached himself and returned his gaze to the window. 

Silence came on, and suddenly he was aware of Arianna's slow breathing, seeming only inches from his ear, and the sound and distinct feel of it was so instantaneously alarming that he sharply pulled himself into an upright position and turned to face her. She detected his movement and turned back, one eyebrow raised inquisitively.

"Hey, uh..." he began, his voice quavering slightly. "I was wondering if you'd like the window seat?"

She looked confused for a moment before slowly nodding. "All right, but why?"

"Sun's too bright." He invented a spontaneous excuse, noting distinctly that the sun was nearing the level where it would dip beneath the clouds, and right now its rays were stretching directly outward, radiating off the expanse of white outside like sunshine on snow.