Hanna is Not a Boy's Name ~ Just a Little Bit Normal
Title: Just a Little Bit Normal
Fandom: Hanna is Not a Boy’s Name
Characters/Pairings: Conrad, Toni (slight Toni/Conrad)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Harsh language and potentially disturbing themes.
Word Count: 2,910
Disclaimer: I do not own Hanna is Not a Boy’s Name or any of the characters therein. They belong to Tessa Stone, to whom I am eternally grateful for letting me play in her sandbox.
Summary: When an altogether violent reaction puts everything in perspective for Conrad, Toni tries to convince him that his life isn’t necessarily over... just different.
Notes: Everyone needs to read Hanna is Not a Boy's Name, for it is fantastic. Go. Do it. Now. Okay, done plugging. On with the fic.
When you really broke it down, somebody had to do it.
Conrad looks at the list Hanna had provided for him one final time. Really it’s no wonder the kid’s so short, what with all the crap he stuffs into his system every day. Lucky Charms, instant macaroni and cheese, ramen noodles-- it’s amazing he’s getting any nutrients at all. Conrad suspects rickets.
Still, no one else is going to get it done. Mister Tall-Dark-and-Undead isn’t going to be fooling anyone with his green skin and stitches, and as near as Conrad could tell from the bits of conversation he’d collected, Hanna had been banned from ever setting foot inside the 24-hour supermarket after an incident with a banshee or something like that.
So naturally, the responsibility had fallen to him. Of course. As it always seemed to do.
To be fair, it isn’t as though Hanna had asked him. He pretty much volunteered of his own volition-- in all honesty, Hanna was obviously strapped for cash and he wasn’t about to just let him starve.
Sometimes, Conrad, he thinks archly to himself, you are just too damn nice.
He glances down at the end of the list and has to fight hard to keep a smile from lifting the corners of his mouth-- beneath the list of items, Hanna has written Thanks, Con! Sorry! bordered by a bunch of smiley faces. Conrad shakes his head as he makes his way over to the checkout counter. “Idiot...” he murmurs, and he may have been surprised to discover a hint of affection in that insult. Just a hint.
It’s not like he actually likes the kid or anything.
“Hey there, stranger!”
The voice rings clear as a bell in the almost-empty store, and yet Conrad’s first thought is that the woman-- whoever she is-- is addressing someone else.
“Hey, Conrad! Over here!”
He glances backward toward the source of the voice and sees a familiar shock of blue and black hair. Toni waves when she sees him looking, quickly closing the distance between them. She’s toting a basket full of food. “Fancy seeing you here,” she tells him, glancing down at the eclectic items he has in his own basket. “I thought you didn’t need to eat.”
“I don’t,” Conrad explains. “It’s not for me. It’s for Hanna. He gave me a list and just sent me off. Like I’m a damn errand boy or something.”
“Uh-huh.” Toni sounds skeptical. She takes her place behind him in line. “How is Hanna, anyway? I haven’t seen much of him lately.”
“The same. Boisterous and annoying as ever. He asks about you sometimes, though. I’ll tell him you said hello.”
Toni smiles. “Why don’t I tell him myself? You’re on your way back there, aren’t you? I should tag along-- that is, if you don’t mind.”
Conrad shrugs. “It’s a free country,” he tells her. “Thank you.” This last bit is directed at the cashier, who hands him his groceries with a sunny (if a bit faked, he thinks) smile and tells him to have a nice night.
“Good!” Toni replies. “’Cept... there’s one place I want to stop at first.”
Inwardly Conrad groans. No good deed goes unpunished, apparently. As if she’s anticipated his annoyance, Toni ducks her head. “Sorry,” she says with a smile. “We don’t have to stop if you don't want to.”
Of course she has to go and say that. Saying no to her now will only make Conrad feel like a heel. “Don’t worry about it,” he says with some effort. “We can make a stop. As long as it doesn’t take too long.”
Too. Goddamn. Nice.
The place Toni had been talking about turns out to be a small deli on the corner. To be honest it looks like it barely squeaked past the “Satisfactory” review from the Board of Health, but then again Conrad’s seen much worse-- Worth’s so-called “office”, for instance. Still, he wonders what kind of deli would still be open at eleven o’clock at night.
“Why are we here?” he asks, as if it isn’t obvious.
Toni shrugs. “I dunno, I’m hungry,” she replies. “Besides, this place makes the best cheesesteak sandwiches. You coming in?”
Conrad shakes his head-- he hasn’t fed enough yet and the florescent lights of the deli are bound to make his already pale skin seem almost cadaverous. He’d been lucky in the supermarket. Better to play it safe from now on. “You go on ahead. I’ll just... wait here.”
“Suit yourself. I promise I won’t be long.” And with that, Toni traipses into the deli as easy as you please.
Conrad leans against the side of the building, watching the streetlights as they flicker overhead. It’s a rather nice night out, all things considered. A bit chilly, but he’s found that he doesn’t mind the cold so much anymore. One of the few good things about being dead, he supposes.
Movement inside the deli catches the corner of his eye, and he glances inside. A young man is sitting at a booth right in his line of sight, eating a pastry with one hand while absently flipping the pages of a book with the other. He seems engrossed in what he’s reading, oblivious to everything around him. More than that, though, he seems in his element, completely contented and comfortable.Conrad knows he’s staring but can’t take his eyes off of him-- only a short time before, he was that young man. A wave of what feels like a mixture of homesickness and envy passes over him, so potent that for a second he can almost feel his throat painfully tightening.
It’s not fair, a voice inside his head declares, sulky as a child.
It is at that precise moment that Toni pushes open the door, nearly catching him in the face in the process. Conrad virtually dances backwards to avoid being hit-- he’s not about to get his nose almost broken a second time, thank-you-very-much.
“Watch where you’re going, will you?!” he snaps.
She looks contrite. “Sorry. Didn’t realize you were there. What were you doing so close to the door, anyway?”
Conrad rubs the back of his neck. “N-nothing. Just people-watching.” The half-truth hangs in the air for a moment-- aside from a few people, the deli is almost completely empty.
Luckily, Toni doesn’t seem to notice, already rummaging around in her bag. She beams as she brings out an enormous sandwich nearly the size of her head. “Doesn’t this thing look awesome?” she asks him.
Conrad watches as she takes a big bite, closing her eyes in an expression of exaggerated delight as she chews. “Mm... Conrad, you’ve gotta try this.” She swallows her mouthful. “You don’t know what delicious is until you’ve had one of these. Here.” The cheesesteak is nearly in his hands before she hesitates and draws back, realizing her mistake.
“Oh. But... you can’t, can you? Sorry, I... forgot for a second.” She looks down at her sandwich, carefully avoiding his eyes-- or so it looks to him.
“It’s too bad-- this is really good.” Is that a note of disappointment in her voice? Pity? He can’t tell.
Before he has a chance to think about what he’s doing, he’s reached over and taken it from her. “Hey, are you sure that’s--” is all she can say before Conrad takes a particularly enthusiastic bite.
He realizes it’s a mistake as soon as his teeth sink into it. The smell of the cheese and the beef is overpowering, assaulting his senses and causing him to nearly gag. Every fibre of his being is screaming at him to spit it out, you idiot, but he forces his jaws to keep chewing; tries hard not to think of the tendons and nerves and pulverized flesh that are being ground to paste between his teeth.
He doesn’t understand how he manages to finally force it down, and the sense of pride he feels at having succeeded is trumped by the sinking feeling that he’s made one of the biggest mistakes of his life-- unlife, rather. He can feel the lump of meat and bread sitting heavily in his stomach like a bag of rocks. Toni’s looking at him, concern written in her eyes.
He hands back the sandwich; gives her a smile he desperately hopes is reassuring. “Mmm...” he murmurs, doing his very best to sound convincing and pretty sure he’s failing miserably at it. After all, Toni’s the actor here, not him. “That is really good.”
For all his efforts Toni doesn’t seem to buy it. She raises a skeptical eyebrow. “You sure? You’re okay?”
“Of course I’m okay!” he tells her. “I’m-- unh...” There’s a sudden squelching sound as he feels his stomach give a terrible, queasy lurch. With a desperate mumble of “’mgonnabesick--” Conrad claps a hand over his mouth and races around behind the building. After a few seconds, Toni follows him.
He isn’t difficult to find-- all she has to do is follow the nauseating choking sounds. She sees the discarded bag of groceries first, lying on its side in the parking lot. She spots Conrad a second later.
He’s leaning over with his hands braced against the wall, his body heaving as he throws up what sounds like everything he’s ever eaten back to mother’s milk. Toni sees that his glasses have slipped dangerously to the end of his nose and, taking a rather messy risk, she walks over and plucks them off his head, stepping backwards again to give him some space.
Eventually Conrad’s body stops its convulsions. “Ugh...” he groans. He spits one final time and leans his head against the wall for a few seconds, obviously trying to gain back enough of his equilibrium to stand up straight. After a while he turns around to face her, squinting to bring her into focus. “Ugh,” he says again. “That, uh... that really wasn’t fun.”
“Um.” Toni bites her lip as he wipes his eyes free of tears, leaving a dark red smear across his face. “Y-you’ve got something. Right there.” She points to her own face.
He brushes his hand across where she’s indicated, bringing his fingers close to his face so he can see what he’s wiped up. His eyes widen. “...gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” he mutters. “What the fuck. What the FUCK. Why doesn’t anyone ever tell me these things? Why do I always have to figure this shit out on my own?!”
“Conrad...” Toni starts, but he rages on as if he hasn’t heard her.
“Seriously, did I kick too many puppies in a past life or something? Does the world honestly get off on seeing me miserable all the goddamn time? Is my life just one big fucking cosmic JOKE?!” His hands clench; fist themselves in his hair. “...Fuck.” He sounds as if he’s about to cry.
Something twists inside her. “Conrad.”
It suddenly occurs to him that he has an audience. He presses his lips tightly together; turns away from her. It’s clear he’s ashamed of his outburst. “Leave me alone,” he says softly. He pinches the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. “Just... go away.”
“I can’t,” Toni replies. She lets out a wry chuckle. “I still have your glasses.” She takes a step forward, his glasses held gently in her hand.
After a moment’s hesitation he reaches out and takes them from her, settling them primly back on his nose. “...Thanks,” he says, avoiding her eyes. “I--”
He utters a shocked grunt as Toni virtually jumps at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging fiercely. He stumbles backward, coming dangerously close to stepping in the gastrointestinal mess he had made only a few minutes before. “What the hell?!” Conrad shouts, his arms jutting out at an awkward angle as if she’s hot to the touch. “Get off of me! Let me go!”
“Goddammit would you just shut up and let me apologize for god’s sake?!” Toni snaps. Conrad, amazingly, does what he’s told.
A short, embarrassed silence passes between them. Toni rests her head against his chest and marvels at what she hears-- even though she knows he’s undead, it’s still surprising to hear the absence of a heartbeat. He’s cold.
“You should eat when you get back home,” she tells him. “It might make you feel better.”
“I’ll get right on it,” Conrad replies, “just as soon as you let go of me. Was there something you wanted to say to me or did you just want to drag out the discomfort a little more?”
“God, you-- don’t prompt someone to apologize! It just makes it awkward!”
There is another silence, longer this time.
“...I’m sorry,” Toni says.
Conrad lets out a cynical chuckle. “Wasn’t quite worth it, was it?”
She continues as if she hadn’t heard him. “I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have let on that I wanted you to try that sandwich. I should’ve known you wouldn’t have been able to handle it.”
An acid retort is on his tongue, but something in the tone of her voice makes him bite it back at the last second. “It... it’s not your fault,” he says, after a while. “W-What I mean is-- I didn’t do it for you. Not really. I... I just wanted to see if I could. If... well, back when I was-- before all this happened, I used to go out early in the morning, when the sun was just about to rise. It was nice around that time. Quiet. Not a lot of people up that early. I’d stop in a cafe, get a cup of coffee and maybe a bagel or something; hang out for a little bit by myself. Sometimes I’d read a book, sometimes I’d just watch the people start to make their way in. It was like my morning ritual."
His voice takes on a more wistful tone. “I... kinda miss doing that now, actually. I mean, sure I could keep going to that cafe, but... it just wouldn’t be the same. I’d really miss having that cup of coffee. I thought... I thought if I could still eat and drink things that weren’t blood, all this other crap wouldn’t seem so bad, you know? I’d feel just a little bit normal again.”
Toni’s arms tighten around him, and Conrad suddenly realizes that during his trip down memory lane his arms have settled around her shoulders of their own accord.
He lowers them to his sides; shifts awkwardly in place. “Er... okay, you apologized. So... are you going to let me go now?”
“Mm.” Toni finally releases him and steps back.
“Thanks. Just, uh... forget what I said back there, all right?” he asks her. “I didn’t really mean to spill my guts to you like that.”
Toni shrugs. “Hey, don’t worry about it. What are friends for? I’ll lend an ear any time you need it.” She snickers. “Besides, I just saw you spill your guts all over the deli parking lot, pretty much. I think we’ve passed beyond the boundaries of casual acquaintances at this point.”
Though he’s sure he doesn’t have nearly enough blood in him to blush, Conrad suddenly feels heat travel up his face. “Ahahaha. Uh, yeah.”
She dismisses the subject with a wave of her hand. “Don’t worry about it, I said. Feeling better?”
Conrad nods. “Yeah. A little. Anyway, I should get back. I still need to deliver stuff to Hanna.” He crosses over to where the shopping bag is lying, checking to make sure that everything is still there.
“Let's go, then,” she tells him.
He shakes his head, the bag held lightly in one hand. “You don’t really have to come with me, you know. It’d be out of your way.”
“It’s okay,” she replies. “I want to.”
Conrad shrugs. “Fine. Whatever.” He’s not sure why she’s looking at him like that. “What?”
Toni gives him a wide, warm smile. “You’re actually a really sweet guy deep down, aren’t you?”
“W-what?” He looks genuinely surprised. “What on earth brought that on?”
“It just occurred to me-- going grocery shopping for a guy who supposedly annoys the crap out of you?”
Conrad clears his throat. “Yeah, well... he’s helped me with getting my food before. I figured I owed him. I mean, the last thing I want to be is indebted to the little pest.”
“Sure, whatever,” Toni replies. “I think it’s sweet.” Her eyes sparkle mischievously. “Now you just have to work on those other issues you have.”
“I beg your pardon,” Conrad says. “What issues would those be?”
“You mean besides the one where you act like you’ve been shot every time someone so much as brushes past you?” There is a sardonic grin on her face now, a “what-am-I-going-to-do-with-you” grin. “No offense, Connie, but you really need to learn to hug it out.”
“I think I’ll manage, thank you,” Conrad replies stiffly. “And don’t call me ‘Connie’.”
A chuckle and a light cuff on the shoulder is his only reward. He finds that he doesn’t really mind.
In fact, as he’s walking side by side with a werewolf on their way to an apartment shared by a taciturn zombie and an overly-energetic mage, he somehow feels just a little bit more normal.
Fandom: Hanna is Not a Boy’s Name
Characters/Pairings: Conrad, Toni (slight Toni/Conrad)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Harsh language and potentially disturbing themes.
Word Count: 2,910
Disclaimer: I do not own Hanna is Not a Boy’s Name or any of the characters therein. They belong to Tessa Stone, to whom I am eternally grateful for letting me play in her sandbox.
Summary: When an altogether violent reaction puts everything in perspective for Conrad, Toni tries to convince him that his life isn’t necessarily over... just different.
Notes: Everyone needs to read Hanna is Not a Boy's Name, for it is fantastic. Go. Do it. Now. Okay, done plugging. On with the fic.
When you really broke it down, somebody had to do it.
Conrad looks at the list Hanna had provided for him one final time. Really it’s no wonder the kid’s so short, what with all the crap he stuffs into his system every day. Lucky Charms, instant macaroni and cheese, ramen noodles-- it’s amazing he’s getting any nutrients at all. Conrad suspects rickets.
Still, no one else is going to get it done. Mister Tall-Dark-and-Undead isn’t going to be fooling anyone with his green skin and stitches, and as near as Conrad could tell from the bits of conversation he’d collected, Hanna had been banned from ever setting foot inside the 24-hour supermarket after an incident with a banshee or something like that.
So naturally, the responsibility had fallen to him. Of course. As it always seemed to do.
To be fair, it isn’t as though Hanna had asked him. He pretty much volunteered of his own volition-- in all honesty, Hanna was obviously strapped for cash and he wasn’t about to just let him starve.
Sometimes, Conrad, he thinks archly to himself, you are just too damn nice.
He glances down at the end of the list and has to fight hard to keep a smile from lifting the corners of his mouth-- beneath the list of items, Hanna has written Thanks, Con! Sorry! bordered by a bunch of smiley faces. Conrad shakes his head as he makes his way over to the checkout counter. “Idiot...” he murmurs, and he may have been surprised to discover a hint of affection in that insult. Just a hint.
It’s not like he actually likes the kid or anything.
“Hey there, stranger!”
The voice rings clear as a bell in the almost-empty store, and yet Conrad’s first thought is that the woman-- whoever she is-- is addressing someone else.
“Hey, Conrad! Over here!”
He glances backward toward the source of the voice and sees a familiar shock of blue and black hair. Toni waves when she sees him looking, quickly closing the distance between them. She’s toting a basket full of food. “Fancy seeing you here,” she tells him, glancing down at the eclectic items he has in his own basket. “I thought you didn’t need to eat.”
“I don’t,” Conrad explains. “It’s not for me. It’s for Hanna. He gave me a list and just sent me off. Like I’m a damn errand boy or something.”
“Uh-huh.” Toni sounds skeptical. She takes her place behind him in line. “How is Hanna, anyway? I haven’t seen much of him lately.”
“The same. Boisterous and annoying as ever. He asks about you sometimes, though. I’ll tell him you said hello.”
Toni smiles. “Why don’t I tell him myself? You’re on your way back there, aren’t you? I should tag along-- that is, if you don’t mind.”
Conrad shrugs. “It’s a free country,” he tells her. “Thank you.” This last bit is directed at the cashier, who hands him his groceries with a sunny (if a bit faked, he thinks) smile and tells him to have a nice night.
“Good!” Toni replies. “’Cept... there’s one place I want to stop at first.”
Inwardly Conrad groans. No good deed goes unpunished, apparently. As if she’s anticipated his annoyance, Toni ducks her head. “Sorry,” she says with a smile. “We don’t have to stop if you don't want to.”
Of course she has to go and say that. Saying no to her now will only make Conrad feel like a heel. “Don’t worry about it,” he says with some effort. “We can make a stop. As long as it doesn’t take too long.”
Too. Goddamn. Nice.
The place Toni had been talking about turns out to be a small deli on the corner. To be honest it looks like it barely squeaked past the “Satisfactory” review from the Board of Health, but then again Conrad’s seen much worse-- Worth’s so-called “office”, for instance. Still, he wonders what kind of deli would still be open at eleven o’clock at night.
“Why are we here?” he asks, as if it isn’t obvious.
Toni shrugs. “I dunno, I’m hungry,” she replies. “Besides, this place makes the best cheesesteak sandwiches. You coming in?”
Conrad shakes his head-- he hasn’t fed enough yet and the florescent lights of the deli are bound to make his already pale skin seem almost cadaverous. He’d been lucky in the supermarket. Better to play it safe from now on. “You go on ahead. I’ll just... wait here.”
“Suit yourself. I promise I won’t be long.” And with that, Toni traipses into the deli as easy as you please.
Conrad leans against the side of the building, watching the streetlights as they flicker overhead. It’s a rather nice night out, all things considered. A bit chilly, but he’s found that he doesn’t mind the cold so much anymore. One of the few good things about being dead, he supposes.
Movement inside the deli catches the corner of his eye, and he glances inside. A young man is sitting at a booth right in his line of sight, eating a pastry with one hand while absently flipping the pages of a book with the other. He seems engrossed in what he’s reading, oblivious to everything around him. More than that, though, he seems in his element, completely contented and comfortable.Conrad knows he’s staring but can’t take his eyes off of him-- only a short time before, he was that young man. A wave of what feels like a mixture of homesickness and envy passes over him, so potent that for a second he can almost feel his throat painfully tightening.
It’s not fair, a voice inside his head declares, sulky as a child.
It is at that precise moment that Toni pushes open the door, nearly catching him in the face in the process. Conrad virtually dances backwards to avoid being hit-- he’s not about to get his nose almost broken a second time, thank-you-very-much.
“Watch where you’re going, will you?!” he snaps.
She looks contrite. “Sorry. Didn’t realize you were there. What were you doing so close to the door, anyway?”
Conrad rubs the back of his neck. “N-nothing. Just people-watching.” The half-truth hangs in the air for a moment-- aside from a few people, the deli is almost completely empty.
Luckily, Toni doesn’t seem to notice, already rummaging around in her bag. She beams as she brings out an enormous sandwich nearly the size of her head. “Doesn’t this thing look awesome?” she asks him.
Conrad watches as she takes a big bite, closing her eyes in an expression of exaggerated delight as she chews. “Mm... Conrad, you’ve gotta try this.” She swallows her mouthful. “You don’t know what delicious is until you’ve had one of these. Here.” The cheesesteak is nearly in his hands before she hesitates and draws back, realizing her mistake.
“Oh. But... you can’t, can you? Sorry, I... forgot for a second.” She looks down at her sandwich, carefully avoiding his eyes-- or so it looks to him.
“It’s too bad-- this is really good.” Is that a note of disappointment in her voice? Pity? He can’t tell.
Before he has a chance to think about what he’s doing, he’s reached over and taken it from her. “Hey, are you sure that’s--” is all she can say before Conrad takes a particularly enthusiastic bite.
He realizes it’s a mistake as soon as his teeth sink into it. The smell of the cheese and the beef is overpowering, assaulting his senses and causing him to nearly gag. Every fibre of his being is screaming at him to spit it out, you idiot, but he forces his jaws to keep chewing; tries hard not to think of the tendons and nerves and pulverized flesh that are being ground to paste between his teeth.
He doesn’t understand how he manages to finally force it down, and the sense of pride he feels at having succeeded is trumped by the sinking feeling that he’s made one of the biggest mistakes of his life-- unlife, rather. He can feel the lump of meat and bread sitting heavily in his stomach like a bag of rocks. Toni’s looking at him, concern written in her eyes.
He hands back the sandwich; gives her a smile he desperately hopes is reassuring. “Mmm...” he murmurs, doing his very best to sound convincing and pretty sure he’s failing miserably at it. After all, Toni’s the actor here, not him. “That is really good.”
For all his efforts Toni doesn’t seem to buy it. She raises a skeptical eyebrow. “You sure? You’re okay?”
“Of course I’m okay!” he tells her. “I’m-- unh...” There’s a sudden squelching sound as he feels his stomach give a terrible, queasy lurch. With a desperate mumble of “’mgonnabesick--” Conrad claps a hand over his mouth and races around behind the building. After a few seconds, Toni follows him.
He isn’t difficult to find-- all she has to do is follow the nauseating choking sounds. She sees the discarded bag of groceries first, lying on its side in the parking lot. She spots Conrad a second later.
He’s leaning over with his hands braced against the wall, his body heaving as he throws up what sounds like everything he’s ever eaten back to mother’s milk. Toni sees that his glasses have slipped dangerously to the end of his nose and, taking a rather messy risk, she walks over and plucks them off his head, stepping backwards again to give him some space.
Eventually Conrad’s body stops its convulsions. “Ugh...” he groans. He spits one final time and leans his head against the wall for a few seconds, obviously trying to gain back enough of his equilibrium to stand up straight. After a while he turns around to face her, squinting to bring her into focus. “Ugh,” he says again. “That, uh... that really wasn’t fun.”
“Um.” Toni bites her lip as he wipes his eyes free of tears, leaving a dark red smear across his face. “Y-you’ve got something. Right there.” She points to her own face.
He brushes his hand across where she’s indicated, bringing his fingers close to his face so he can see what he’s wiped up. His eyes widen. “...gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” he mutters. “What the fuck. What the FUCK. Why doesn’t anyone ever tell me these things? Why do I always have to figure this shit out on my own?!”
“Conrad...” Toni starts, but he rages on as if he hasn’t heard her.
“Seriously, did I kick too many puppies in a past life or something? Does the world honestly get off on seeing me miserable all the goddamn time? Is my life just one big fucking cosmic JOKE?!” His hands clench; fist themselves in his hair. “...Fuck.” He sounds as if he’s about to cry.
Something twists inside her. “Conrad.”
It suddenly occurs to him that he has an audience. He presses his lips tightly together; turns away from her. It’s clear he’s ashamed of his outburst. “Leave me alone,” he says softly. He pinches the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. “Just... go away.”
“I can’t,” Toni replies. She lets out a wry chuckle. “I still have your glasses.” She takes a step forward, his glasses held gently in her hand.
After a moment’s hesitation he reaches out and takes them from her, settling them primly back on his nose. “...Thanks,” he says, avoiding her eyes. “I--”
He utters a shocked grunt as Toni virtually jumps at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging fiercely. He stumbles backward, coming dangerously close to stepping in the gastrointestinal mess he had made only a few minutes before. “What the hell?!” Conrad shouts, his arms jutting out at an awkward angle as if she’s hot to the touch. “Get off of me! Let me go!”
“Goddammit would you just shut up and let me apologize for god’s sake?!” Toni snaps. Conrad, amazingly, does what he’s told.
A short, embarrassed silence passes between them. Toni rests her head against his chest and marvels at what she hears-- even though she knows he’s undead, it’s still surprising to hear the absence of a heartbeat. He’s cold.
“You should eat when you get back home,” she tells him. “It might make you feel better.”
“I’ll get right on it,” Conrad replies, “just as soon as you let go of me. Was there something you wanted to say to me or did you just want to drag out the discomfort a little more?”
“God, you-- don’t prompt someone to apologize! It just makes it awkward!”
There is another silence, longer this time.
“...I’m sorry,” Toni says.
Conrad lets out a cynical chuckle. “Wasn’t quite worth it, was it?”
She continues as if she hadn’t heard him. “I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have let on that I wanted you to try that sandwich. I should’ve known you wouldn’t have been able to handle it.”
An acid retort is on his tongue, but something in the tone of her voice makes him bite it back at the last second. “It... it’s not your fault,” he says, after a while. “W-What I mean is-- I didn’t do it for you. Not really. I... I just wanted to see if I could. If... well, back when I was-- before all this happened, I used to go out early in the morning, when the sun was just about to rise. It was nice around that time. Quiet. Not a lot of people up that early. I’d stop in a cafe, get a cup of coffee and maybe a bagel or something; hang out for a little bit by myself. Sometimes I’d read a book, sometimes I’d just watch the people start to make their way in. It was like my morning ritual."
His voice takes on a more wistful tone. “I... kinda miss doing that now, actually. I mean, sure I could keep going to that cafe, but... it just wouldn’t be the same. I’d really miss having that cup of coffee. I thought... I thought if I could still eat and drink things that weren’t blood, all this other crap wouldn’t seem so bad, you know? I’d feel just a little bit normal again.”
Toni’s arms tighten around him, and Conrad suddenly realizes that during his trip down memory lane his arms have settled around her shoulders of their own accord.
He lowers them to his sides; shifts awkwardly in place. “Er... okay, you apologized. So... are you going to let me go now?”
“Mm.” Toni finally releases him and steps back.
“Thanks. Just, uh... forget what I said back there, all right?” he asks her. “I didn’t really mean to spill my guts to you like that.”
Toni shrugs. “Hey, don’t worry about it. What are friends for? I’ll lend an ear any time you need it.” She snickers. “Besides, I just saw you spill your guts all over the deli parking lot, pretty much. I think we’ve passed beyond the boundaries of casual acquaintances at this point.”
Though he’s sure he doesn’t have nearly enough blood in him to blush, Conrad suddenly feels heat travel up his face. “Ahahaha. Uh, yeah.”
She dismisses the subject with a wave of her hand. “Don’t worry about it, I said. Feeling better?”
Conrad nods. “Yeah. A little. Anyway, I should get back. I still need to deliver stuff to Hanna.” He crosses over to where the shopping bag is lying, checking to make sure that everything is still there.
“Let's go, then,” she tells him.
He shakes his head, the bag held lightly in one hand. “You don’t really have to come with me, you know. It’d be out of your way.”
“It’s okay,” she replies. “I want to.”
Conrad shrugs. “Fine. Whatever.” He’s not sure why she’s looking at him like that. “What?”
Toni gives him a wide, warm smile. “You’re actually a really sweet guy deep down, aren’t you?”
“W-what?” He looks genuinely surprised. “What on earth brought that on?”
“It just occurred to me-- going grocery shopping for a guy who supposedly annoys the crap out of you?”
Conrad clears his throat. “Yeah, well... he’s helped me with getting my food before. I figured I owed him. I mean, the last thing I want to be is indebted to the little pest.”
“Sure, whatever,” Toni replies. “I think it’s sweet.” Her eyes sparkle mischievously. “Now you just have to work on those other issues you have.”
“I beg your pardon,” Conrad says. “What issues would those be?”
“You mean besides the one where you act like you’ve been shot every time someone so much as brushes past you?” There is a sardonic grin on her face now, a “what-am-I-going-to-do-with-you” grin. “No offense, Connie, but you really need to learn to hug it out.”
“I think I’ll manage, thank you,” Conrad replies stiffly. “And don’t call me ‘Connie’.”
A chuckle and a light cuff on the shoulder is his only reward. He finds that he doesn’t really mind.
In fact, as he’s walking side by side with a werewolf on their way to an apartment shared by a taciturn zombie and an overly-energetic mage, he somehow feels just a little bit more normal.