Derp Tales (aka. In which Galatea tries to provide counceling for the stubborn)
Who: Roy Mustang (ignite_the_sky) and Galatea visionblessing
When: A day. Sometime after the Broadcast mind event.
Where: Galatea's shiny new office/room in the Patrol HQ
Format: Paragraph (feel free to change cos I'm not picky)
What: Galatea's getting her first counseling visit! Too bad it has to come in the form of someone who's kept himself carefully tucked away behind ( Read more... )
When: A day. Sometime after the Broadcast mind event.
Where: Galatea's shiny new office/room in the Patrol HQ
Format: Paragraph (feel free to change cos I'm not picky)
What: Galatea's getting her first counseling visit! Too bad it has to come in the form of someone who's kept himself carefully tucked away behind ( Read more... )
"...I don't know. I'm not really mad at her, because she deserves to be happy, but..." But what? Why did she have to choose him? Why did those three words have to come into the picture? Why had they been said at all? Was it true? Was it just to make her feel wanted? Had she misheard it? Had it been misunderstood? Did she actually feel anything for him or was it something else entirely?
But... why did she have to be drawn to him and not him? Those words held the power to take her away from him, to tear down everything the two of them had, to rob him of the only sure, constant thing in his life.
And he didn't want that.
The majority of his life had been a sea of fighting, blood, death, gunpowder, and smoke. Nothing lasted, nothing stayed -not family, not friends. Nothing... except Riza. She kept him moving forward when he wanted to turn back. She gave him a sense of self, a touchstone to who he really was beyond the military, the women, the information network, the alchemy. She was one of his best friends. She was the one person he could be himself around without fear of-- no, that wasn't entirely true. He was still somewhat on guard with her because there were some things he wouldn't -couldn't- let her know.
"...but..."
His voice faltered and he curled up into himself. It wasn't often that he slipped like this, but he also never bothered to pick himself apart an analyze himself before. By the time he finally caved and finished his sentence, his voice was not much more than a shaky mumble buried in the circle of his arms.
"...but I want to be the reason for it."
That was perfectly logical, right? After all, they were friends, so of course he'd want to be the one to make her happy!
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Her head tilted. "The reason for her happiness. Does that mean that you want to be the individual that she has romantic feelings for, as well?" It could simply be possessiveness, on his part, of course. He might not have romantic investment in her, although an emotional dependence was still entirely possible. Probably, even, based on what he had said.
For a brief moment, Galatea was relieved that her position in the church and as a member of the Organisation has spared her this manner of aggravation. Life was tumultuous enough without such aspects being added in past one's control.
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...except his Lieutenant.
But that was wrong, wasn't it? She was his subordinate, his best friend and practically family. She was nothing like the girls he dated. She kept to herself, she wasn't flashy or very bubbly in personality, she always had to point out his faults and flaws, she spoke her mind even when it wasn't really asked for.
She had a mind to speak of. She was intelligent, capable, and understanding. She was quick to let him know when there was a flaw in his reasoning. She supported him despite his obvious faults. She was attractive, both inside and out. And even though he had a tendency to chase after the flighty, giggly type, she remained his ideal.
He'd told her she was unattainable because nobody bothered to try when they'd be shot right back down, but in truth, that was why he hadn't tried -because how was he supposed to phrase it to make it sound like he wasn't doing it to mock her? He went for the girls who were her polar opposite, and yet for some reason, what he wanted... was her. But he couldn't have her. She wasn't his to keep.
"Is that wrong?," he asked quietly, glancing up at her over his arms. That couldn't possibly be what she was referring to though, right?
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She took her time explaining things. It was favourable to her, to think things over carefully, to deliver news gradually and clearly to avoid miscommunication. Such seemed an especially valuable decision, especially in scenarios of this type. Prompting him with possibilities, however, was likely to achieve little. In what she had come to understand, listing could lead to confusion, incorrect association, grasping at something not fitting simply because it seemed an acceptable option that had been laid before them.
"The question being, then, what would your reasons for wishing to be the object of her affections be? What would it achieve for you, if you will." Simply having her at his beck and call, for example; that was a reason she would label wrong, most likely.
It was surreal to think she was having this conversation. When exactly had this become her life?
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It was hard for him to believe he'd just told her that, but there it was. He couldn't even say that it made him feel better to get it off his chest, because it didn't -it just made him feel inadequate because he couldn't tell her without worrying that she'd think he wasn't serious. She'd seen the women he dated, she knew his reputation, she knew him.
He averted his gaze, unsure of if she could see him or not, but not wanting to take any chances. "How do you tell someone something like that and expect them to believe you when they know that not only have you pretty much been with everybody and their sister, but you change girls like most people change socks?"
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"It has been said that actions speak louder than words," she finally replied, after a long silence. "Words may mean little at first, if they come out of the blue. Showing her the shift in your behaviour and attitude would likely be a strong initial step, to give validity to whatever words you may choose to vocalise at a later point." Anyone could simply say something, after all; to act genuinely was something rather more difficult.
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She'd never believe it if he did, if he tried to turn himself around and settle down. He wasn't as much of a tramp as he made himself out to be -especially after the encounter with Lust beneath the Lab that left him scarred- but he'd dated enough women to populate a small town. For him to suddenly turn around and drop his attention to just one might come off as a bit suspicious.
"I'm doomed."
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She closed her eyes, leaned back in her chair and allowed one leg to cross over the other. "The fear of failure can be curbed by telling yourself that you did not fail, but rather did not make the effort. However," and her tone was cool now, "it is most assuredly not winning, either."
Cowardly, she rather thought. Humans were so vulnerable to emotions. (And so were warriors, as well, but in an entirely different sense.)
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He sighed. This was harder than he'd thought it would be, and he didn't know where to even begin to fix himself and his own habits. It didn't help that it would require he get introspective on himself when he had no experience with that -he preferred to keep everything inside and tucked away to the point of near inseparability between what was real and what was carefully fabricated.
"No, it's not... but is it better to keep something like that locked away so that they don't have to be hurt by it and things can go on as they always have, or to risk everything on a sentiment that may never be returned?"
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"Is it better to live with the doubt of what might have been, or know with certainty that you took whatever steps you could without guaranteeing yourself a circumstance where the outcome is not satisfactory?" Of course, it was a hypocritical note for her to make. She had not been open with the priests of Rabona until her hand was forced, but that was a tactical decision for survival rather than such an emotional rationale. "These aren't questions where you can look to others for the answers. Receiving advice from others will simply leave you with greater regret, should something go awry, and disallow you the chance to accredit yourself with your victory should you succeed."
Doubtless, he was already aware, but some things were easier to accept when spoken.
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"But even by taking whatever steps allowed to me, should the outcome be unsatisfactory, that doubt would still be present only in the opposite direction. Instead of "what might have been", it would be "what could I have avoided". I understand that it's ultimately my decision to make, but when I'm not certain of what it is that I'm choosing, or why I'm choosing it, that decision is made all the more difficult."
He fell silent for a long moment, wrestling with the words on the tip of his tongue that he wanted so badly to avoid saying. By giving them voice, he was acknowledging something he wasn't even sure of -both in whether or not he was and to what extent should he be.
"...how does one tell if whether they merely love someone or they're in love with someone?"
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