Eleanor didn't have class today, so there were all sorts of things she could be doing. Shopping, in town, or reading a book, or visiting with her friends
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Joker stopped by her door and knocked on it. "Hey there. Sooo... are you avoiding me? I think at this point it's safe to say you're avoiding me. That's not really a good idea, for either of us."
"I've been busy," Eleanor lied. "Besides, I could accuse you of avoiding me. You know where my room is just like I know where yours is. You haven't wanted to talk, either."
"You've been running away," Joker countered. "I didn't know whether or not to give you space. And... I'm worried. Look, seriously, let's not even deal with my hand right now, okay? This weekend was rough."
"Yes, it was," Eleanor said. "And I was bloody selfish about it. I dragged you lot into Hell, and then I threw myself at you to feel better about it, and I bloody broke you. What exactly am I supposed to say now!?"
"How about you stop feeling guilty about it?" Joker suggested. "You didn't force us into doing anything, you certainly didn't throw yourself at me, and c'mon, credit where credit's due, my hand was both of us. ...Anyway, what you could say is 'I'm feeling like shit, I need company, and hey, you're a person that I like. Let's hang out.' How does that sound?"
"I don't think I'm very good company right now," Eleanor said. "I do feel like shit, and you are a person that I like. How are you feeling? Not your hand, I mean -- all of it."
"Oh, you know me," Joker answered with a shrug. "I'm bottling. Trying to cope by avoiding thinking about it. Trying to convince myself that what happened to Rapture couldn't happen anywhere else. Sooooo... I'm not feeling too great. And I'm pretty sure you're feeling worse."
"Why does everyone assume that?" Eleanor asked. "I'd say on balance I'm doing better. I knew what to expect. I forgot how ugly it was, but I'm not so bloody ... disillusioned."
She hadn't just lost her faith in humanity. She'd never had much to start.
"You shouldn't bottle," she said, in a display of utter hypocrisy. "What do you need?"
"What do I need?" Joker asked. "I've got no idea. But I'm pretty sure that some quality time with you'll help."
He paused to think a moment. "On a completely different subject, did you know that sometimes soldiers come out of a battle emotionally scarred, and that things that only vaguely resemble the situation they were in can bring back all the memories and feelings of that moment? Sometimes it's so bad that they can't live normal lives anymore. Fuck only knows what would happen to them if they actually went back into battle."
"They'd probably sob all over their best friend, drink whiskey, break their boyfriend's hand, and then hide in their room waiting for it to go away," Eleanor said.
She patted the space on the bed in front of her. In case he wanted to sit down. Here. With her. That might be nice.
"Yeah, that sounds like the sort of thing they'd do," Joker said softly. He sat down, set his bag on the floor, and curled into her tentatively. "Funny you happen to mention whiskey, by the way. In class today, the teachers were teaching us how to mix drinks, and I've got two bottles in my bag."
"Why were you drinking in class?" she asked, before remembering, "Oh, it's your crazy teacher day, isn't it?"
One of them. He was also taking class from Navaan, possibly on Thursday.
"I am sorry, you know," she said, leaning over to rest her head against his chest instinctively. "About your hand. You said I shouldn't apologize but I am."
"I'm telling you, you really need to take a class with them," Joker insisted. "It's not an experience you'll forget." He began stroking her hair, softly. "Seriously, do not apologize for my hand. I have never seen a girl cum that hard. It was the hottest thing I've ever experienced."
Joker stopped by her door and knocked on it. "Hey there. Sooo... are you avoiding me? I think at this point it's safe to say you're avoiding me. That's not really a good idea, for either of us."
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Yes. That was totally a valid suggestion.
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She hadn't just lost her faith in humanity. She'd never had much to start.
"You shouldn't bottle," she said, in a display of utter hypocrisy. "What do you need?"
Reply
He paused to think a moment. "On a completely different subject, did you know that sometimes soldiers come out of a battle emotionally scarred, and that things that only vaguely resemble the situation they were in can bring back all the memories and feelings of that moment? Sometimes it's so bad that they can't live normal lives anymore. Fuck only knows what would happen to them if they actually went back into battle."
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She patted the space on the bed in front of her. In case he wanted to sit down. Here. With her. That might be nice.
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One of them. He was also taking class from Navaan, possibly on Thursday.
"I am sorry, you know," she said, leaning over to rest her head against his chest instinctively. "About your hand. You said I shouldn't apologize but I am."
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