[ Oh, that's a shot to the heart right there. The smile falls from Mark's face as he practically slumps in mid-air, shoulders suddenly heavy, just hanging there. His goggles hide the totally wounded look in his eyes, but that's okay, because his head falling downward to stare past his boots at the ground more than communicates how brutal that was from her just now. It's dramatic, because he has never been hurt more than this, betrayed by the one he loves. ]
That's— [ But he can't keep the small laugh out of his voice, so he pops back up, dopey smile rising back into place. ] Okay, I walked right into that one.
[ It's okay. It's good to walk right into the stupid stuff. It's... normal? It's so low stakes it's no stakes. It feels better to pretend like that's among the worst of his problems.
He has to laugh, again, at the idea of him leading. At making a game out of his horrendous sense of direction, because again, low stakes, and low stakes feels so good right now. Like a soothing balm. Sometimes his screw-ups aren't life or death, they're just screw-ups with easily reversible consequences. Mark sways at her bump before righting himself, feeling her hand in his, and he tightens his grip. Gives her a little squeeze of appreciation. Inclines his head slightly, like a little head movement will tell her how much he loves and admires her.
And then they're off, and he matches her speed instantly, like it's the most natural thing in the world. He could go faster, pull Eve along, (get horribly lost) — but Eve's pace is the right one to go at in life, not a Viltrumite's.
He isn't watching where they're going, just watching her. ]
Oh, god. [ A small exhale of a laugh. ] I told you I just jumped off my roof, right? Like I just... did that. I really lucked out that I actually could fly then, because it took me like, days to learn how to land.
[ A beat. Flying is nice. It's so much nicer to be able to do it with someone. And as nice as it had been to be able to carry Amber, this is just... more freeing. More natural. ]
I'm sure you were so much better at it than I was starting out.
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That's— [ But he can't keep the small laugh out of his voice, so he pops back up, dopey smile rising back into place. ] Okay, I walked right into that one.
[ It's okay. It's good to walk right into the stupid stuff. It's... normal? It's so low stakes it's no stakes. It feels better to pretend like that's among the worst of his problems.
He has to laugh, again, at the idea of him leading. At making a game out of his horrendous sense of direction, because again, low stakes, and low stakes feels so good right now. Like a soothing balm. Sometimes his screw-ups aren't life or death, they're just screw-ups with easily reversible consequences. Mark sways at her bump before righting himself, feeling her hand in his, and he tightens his grip. Gives her a little squeeze of appreciation. Inclines his head slightly, like a little head movement will tell her how much he loves and admires her.
And then they're off, and he matches her speed instantly, like it's the most natural thing in the world. He could go faster, pull Eve along, (get horribly lost) — but Eve's pace is the right one to go at in life, not a Viltrumite's.
He isn't watching where they're going, just watching her. ]
Oh, god. [ A small exhale of a laugh. ] I told you I just jumped off my roof, right? Like I just... did that. I really lucked out that I actually could fly then, because it took me like, days to learn how to land.
[ A beat. Flying is nice. It's so much nicer to be able to do it with someone. And as nice as it had been to be able to carry Amber, this is just... more freeing. More natural. ]
I'm sure you were so much better at it than I was starting out.