I'm not going to ask for something weird, ( he answers, a smile in place as he speaks. his tone is soft, even, assured — what kind of weird thing would he ask for? — even as she adds, tells him that she won't do massages. that's fine, he won't do massages either. (that is weird, wanda—.)
the cup behind him wobbles and he doesn't notice, not until it starts to slide down the arm behind him and he leans forward abruptly, hand dropping from his knee to reach behind his back to catch it. it lands, cold and a little damp, in his hand, and he pulls it round to hold between his knees. ) And I'm not going to ask you for a massage.
( despite their earlier conversation.
abruptly— ) Do you think I'm weird? ( with absolutely no indication as to what he expects the answer to be. )
( once again, her joke doesn't quite land. wanda frowns, mostly at herself, even as he smiles; is it because she's too serious? not knowing when to let go of the tension in her words so that it's absolutely clear that she's messing around? should there be a tell-tale sign of a smileโ
she cuts herself short from thinking that as he busies himself with saving the teacup from a broken fate.
her frown deepens as he asks her if she thinks he's weird. )
I was making a joke. ( admitting, reluctantly, that she's not very funny... ) You are weird, like I am weird. ( a shrug. ) โbut you're not weird like... Marcelo from the motel is. I don't actually think you are going to be creepy or anything like that.
( she finishes the sentiment quietly. did he think that she thought he would?
drawing in some air, she aims for extra credit, ) You're nice, and you can be sweet. You're a lot easier to read sometimes, even without โ you know. I can give you feedback about how you are as a roommate after a month, if you like.
(you're not weird like marcelo. he leans forward, expression fixed on her as he states, ) That's what we call a backhanded compliment. ( he might not have bothered, fully, to consider what to expect from marcelo before the door had opened that first time, but what he'd picked up from the man, the way that wanda had dealt with him — a pet — had said more than enough.
david might be many things, syd and cary and the vermillion might think of him as a certain kind of person, but he's not marcelo. he doesn't want to end the world, not on a global scale, not on an individual scale.
philly had called him nice, once upon a time; syd had called him sweet. the compliment doesn't land as it might if he didn't have the contrast of the but, but he knows (hopes, imagines) that she, wanda, doesn't mean it like that. )
—Are you saying you want to exchange report cards?
Why are you asking me questions if you're not happy with my answers?
( her expression pinches, and wanda sits up on her knees, onto the cushion that he has wedged his feet under. in this way, she grabs onto one of his knees for support, and, in that obnoxious way that siblings might play-fight in, she grapples for the tea cup that he's holding.
(the teacup hasn't done anything wrong, is innocent in all this, and yetโ) )
Not report cards. ( she said it was a joke! ) We have the star stickers, but I'm starting to think you're not going to be fair about giving me any. ( she's not very balanced, as she tries to tug off his fingers from the teacup. ) You said you'd be fair.
( there's hardly any mean streak to this whole thing, her actions and words, but david ought to remember that wanda's kind of... competitive. )
( his fingers press into the porcelain of the teacup, holding it firm despite her attempts to grasp it from him. it's not delicate enough that it's going to break, and neither of them are rough enough that they're going to drop it, so while it might slip between his grip and hers, the furthest it extends is sliding down his knees. while the both of them have, somehow, fallen into something easy in the short time they've known each other — an understanding that hinges on more than either of them have really admitted to, an ease that they've circled around but for the admissions that they're different — there's an unspoken element of expecting that neither will take it outside of undetermined boundaries.
you said you'd be fair, she says, oddly petulant, unsurprisingly competitive, and david lets go, abrupt and sudden, letting her have the lion's share of ownership over the mug.
even so and in contrast— ) Fair doesn't mean letting you win.
( david lets go, abrupt and sudden. fair doesn't mean letting you win. the laws of physics say something about the force of a pull and push situation, surely, but wanda's lived experiences unfortunately hinge heavily on getting to go through situations to learn from them. such as the experience of the force of peeling away once david lets go. between the awkwardly wedged cushion and her positioning, wanda loses her balance and tips over the side of the couch.
she's quick to put her foot down, and just about grasps onto the fabric of the couch with her free hand. her socked foot, however, slides on a section of the floor that isn't covered in carpet (this would not be an issue if she wore shoes inside). the teacup escapes her hand, howeverโ
quickly enough, it stops mid-air, surrounded in red. wanda, for her part, gave up and landed herself on the floor, onto her back, after turning to use her arm as a cushion for the short-distanced fall. one hand is raised, keeping the teacup safe, while the other one lets go of the couch cushion. the teacup, for its part, starts to slowly lower down toward her outstretched hand, until it all but lands on the tip of one of her fingers, and she can grab it properly.
(she's fine.)
then, abruptly, a laugh from her, from the floor. )
( he doesn't expect her to fall. at most, he expects her to be thrown off balance, but only to jerk backwards before stilling; that she falls to the side, that her sock slides against the floor is startling, and he half-reaches out to grab her (pointless, really, it's barely a fall—), before there are those slowly, increasingly familiar wisps of red. the teacup gets cushioned, its fall halted, while wanda hits the floor with a muted thud and a laugh.
david sits up, leaning fractionally over the side of the sofa to look down at wanda with a grin. he doesn't try to take the teacup from her, but he does hold a hand, empty, palm open, towards her for her to take so that he can help pull her back into some form of a sitting position, rather than the vague crumple she is presently.
his mouth twitches, and he glances towards the cup. )
( wanda grabs at his offered hand with her free one, pulling herself up to sit. once she's up, she will let go of his hand, turning her back to him as she carefully, gently, places the cup down on the coffee table. at a glance, they've pretty much decimated their dinner, and what's left over are but scraps that could either be tossed out or eaten after all this time has passed.
she pushes herself to stand, bent over a bit over the table just so that she can start piling plates and silverware together, tidy up a little. wanda steals a glance back at him. )
I can clean up. I don't mind. ( definitely not a test or anything to see if he'll help her or not. wanda genuinely doesn't, as she picks up the plates laden with silverware and food scraps and utensils, and moves them over to the kitchen sink. the cassette on the stereo clicks and stops. she comes back to pick up the wine bottle and the milk carton. at leastโ one and a half cups left in the bottle, though... with a motion to david. ) Back in the fridge?
( it might not be a test but that doesn't mean that david is willing to let wanda tidy up alone. while she manages to pick up the bulk of by virtue of being closer to the table, and though the apartment's larger than it was, it's still not large — david's standing and next to her quickly enough to be able to grab the few scant items she doesn't pick up, stepping into the kitchen and running the water for the sink just as she steps back out to pick up the remainder of the wine and milk.
at her question, he hums an affirmative, opening the fridge and holding out a hand to take one and then the other. as he closes the fridge, his attention shifts to the oven and the digital display of the clock that may or may not be right. (it's at least not flashing 00:00.) )
—Do you work tomorrow?
( if she does, he assumes she'll want an early(ish) night. )
( it's definitely weird (perhaps even fascinating), that in such a short amount of time, despite their missteps, they're constantly in rhythm with each other. it's easy enough, cleaning up, and it's so specifically mundane. part of her wonders if david couldn't just snap his fingers and get everything tidied up. the extent of his abilities are a mystery to her.
david stores the the milk and wine bottle get back in the fridge, all while wanda rolls up her sleeves and picks up at a damp towel to wipe down the coffee table. )
Yeah, I open tomorrow. ( does he know what that means, mister has-never-worked-beforeโ ) But not until ten. ( wanda comes back to the sink, rinsing out the towel, likely doing this over david's arms as he seems to take particular ownership of the sink area. she stands to the side, one hand on the counter. ) Will you come pick up your card game?
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no subject
Date: 2026-04-29 06:28 pm (UTC)the cup behind him wobbles and he doesn't notice, not until it starts to slide down the arm behind him and he leans forward abruptly, hand dropping from his knee to reach behind his back to catch it. it lands, cold and a little damp, in his hand, and he pulls it round to hold between his knees. ) And I'm not going to ask you for a massage.
( despite their earlier conversation.
abruptly— ) Do you think I'm weird? ( with absolutely no indication as to what he expects the answer to be. )
no subject
Date: 2026-04-29 06:50 pm (UTC)she cuts herself short from thinking that as he busies himself with saving the teacup from a broken fate.
her frown deepens as he asks her if she thinks he's weird. )
I was making a joke. ( admitting, reluctantly, that she's not very funny... ) You are weird, like I am weird. ( a shrug. ) โbut you're not weird like... Marcelo from the motel is. I don't actually think you are going to be creepy or anything like that.
( she finishes the sentiment quietly. did he think that she thought he would?
drawing in some air, she aims for extra credit, ) You're nice, and you can be sweet. You're a lot easier to read sometimes, even without โ you know. I can give you feedback about how you are as a roommate after a month, if you like.
( a pause, eyes shifting back up to him. )
That's another joke, by the way.
no subject
Date: 2026-04-29 08:11 pm (UTC)david might be many things, syd and cary and the vermillion might think of him as a certain kind of person, but he's not marcelo. he doesn't want to end the world, not on a global scale, not on an individual scale.
philly had called him nice, once upon a time; syd had called him sweet. the compliment doesn't land as it might if he didn't have the contrast of the but, but he knows (hopes, imagines) that she, wanda, doesn't mean it like that. )
—Are you saying you want to exchange report cards?
no subject
Date: 2026-04-29 08:21 pm (UTC)( her expression pinches, and wanda sits up on her knees, onto the cushion that he has wedged his feet under. in this way, she grabs onto one of his knees for support, and, in that obnoxious way that siblings might play-fight in, she grapples for the tea cup that he's holding.
(the teacup hasn't done anything wrong, is innocent in all this, and yetโ) )
Not report cards. ( she said it was a joke! ) We have the star stickers, but I'm starting to think you're not going to be fair about giving me any. ( she's not very balanced, as she tries to tug off his fingers from the teacup. ) You said you'd be fair.
( there's hardly any mean streak to this whole thing, her actions and words, but david ought to remember that wanda's kind of... competitive. )
no subject
Date: 2026-04-29 08:43 pm (UTC)you said you'd be fair, she says, oddly petulant, unsurprisingly competitive, and david lets go, abrupt and sudden, letting her have the lion's share of ownership over the mug.
even so and in contrast— ) Fair doesn't mean letting you win.
no subject
Date: 2026-04-29 09:07 pm (UTC)she's quick to put her foot down, and just about grasps onto the fabric of the couch with her free hand. her socked foot, however, slides on a section of the floor that isn't covered in carpet (this would not be an issue if she wore shoes inside). the teacup escapes her hand, howeverโ
quickly enough, it stops mid-air, surrounded in red. wanda, for her part, gave up and landed herself on the floor, onto her back, after turning to use her arm as a cushion for the short-distanced fall. one hand is raised, keeping the teacup safe, while the other one lets go of the couch cushion. the teacup, for its part, starts to slowly lower down toward her outstretched hand, until it all but lands on the tip of one of her fingers, and she can grab it properly.
(she's fine.)
then, abruptly, a laugh from her, from the floor. )
no subject
Date: 2026-04-30 02:29 pm (UTC)david sits up, leaning fractionally over the side of the sofa to look down at wanda with a grin. he doesn't try to take the teacup from her, but he does hold a hand, empty, palm open, towards her for her to take so that he can help pull her back into some form of a sitting position, rather than the vague crumple she is presently.
his mouth twitches, and he glances towards the cup. )
Nice save.
no subject
Date: 2026-04-30 05:12 pm (UTC)( wanda grabs at his offered hand with her free one, pulling herself up to sit. once she's up, she will let go of his hand, turning her back to him as she carefully, gently, places the cup down on the coffee table. at a glance, they've pretty much decimated their dinner, and what's left over are but scraps that could either be tossed out or eaten after all this time has passed.
she pushes herself to stand, bent over a bit over the table just so that she can start piling plates and silverware together, tidy up a little. wanda steals a glance back at him. )
I can clean up. I don't mind. ( definitely not a test or anything to see if he'll help her or not. wanda genuinely doesn't, as she picks up the plates laden with silverware and food scraps and utensils, and moves them over to the kitchen sink. the cassette on the stereo clicks and stops. she comes back to pick up the wine bottle and the milk carton. at leastโ one and a half cups left in the bottle, though... with a motion to david. ) Back in the fridge?
( he might not want to finish it just yet. )
no subject
Date: 2026-04-30 06:34 pm (UTC)at her question, he hums an affirmative, opening the fridge and holding out a hand to take one and then the other. as he closes the fridge, his attention shifts to the oven and the digital display of the clock that may or may not be right. (it's at least not flashing 00:00.) )
—Do you work tomorrow?
( if she does, he assumes she'll want an early(ish) night. )
no subject
Date: 2026-04-30 06:55 pm (UTC)david stores the the milk and wine bottle get back in the fridge, all while wanda rolls up her sleeves and picks up at a damp towel to wipe down the coffee table. )
Yeah, I open tomorrow. ( does he know what that means, mister has-never-worked-beforeโ ) But not until ten. ( wanda comes back to the sink, rinsing out the towel, likely doing this over david's arms as he seems to take particular ownership of the sink area. she stands to the side, one hand on the counter. ) Will you come pick up your card game?