Sweet.
He didn't make sense, walking around, asking questions about things anyone who was half worth their license should already know. But he had to know some things. She lowers her voice, "I know we're not supposed to talk about the outside world, but they must be watching. Do people like me? Lynda with a y, not Linda with an i- she got forcibly evicted cause she damaged a camera. Am I popular?" It sounded a bit desperate at the end, but it wasn't as if he didn't understand the stakes. Everyone did.
"I don't remember."
He meant no, he was trying to be nice. She shouldn't have asked. It's not as if she could do anything, anyway, not this far in the game. But she pushes on. "Oh, but does that mean I'm nothing? Some only get this far because they're insignificant. Doesn't anybody notice me?"
She watches him fumble for words for a minute. "No, you're... you're nice. You're sweet. Everyone thinks you're sweet."
She fought the urge to cry. Sweet. That was it. Just sweet. She didn't know what it was she had expected, but sweet was... It was sweet. It said that was the best it could come up with and put you off to the side in a little corner.
The smile came easily enough. It was performer's instincts. "Oh. Is that right? Is that what I am? No one's ever told me that before. Am I sweet? Really?" Say no. Say I'm more than that.
"Yeah. Dead sweet."
Dead. "Thank you."
Length: 256
Community: Library of Winds
Prompt: Sweet
Verse: At Home in any 'Verse
Rating: G
Note: Dialogue is all from the Doctor Who episode "Bad Wolf", and I did not write it.
Quote does not really have anything to do with the fic, and is mainly there because I couldn't think of anything else for the lj-cut text. It is also the work of Sir Thomas More.